Years ago, I heard a woman speak at a horticulture conference who said, “You will never see a flower in a war zone.”  I never forgot that.  It’s a sentiment I liken to my life…

The war is behind me.  New growth has sprouted, and I am re-building what was worth saving…me. I am still mostly budding I think, but some aspects are in bloom.  There’s a drought of sorts, but what I need always comes.  And though beautiful and worth it, I know that blooms are relatively short-lived.  Sooner or later, the flower will fade and turn to seed to continue its legacy.  Both sad and breathtaking at the same time.  Just like life, huh?

I understand too the work that goes into creating the flower we can see with our eyes from a tiny seed undergoing a different process in complete darkness. 

A seed…mere potential without the proper conditions.

A lotus seed would simply be itself for a few hundred years if it were buried in potting soil.  It would wait and wait and wait (outliving us all) until the right conditions presented themselves…mud, water, an abrasive surface working on the shell. 

The environment must be suitable and the timing right. 

Through an almost unbearable journey, my shell has cracked under conditions that turned out to be perfect for me.  Something has germinated, and I just keep reaching for the light.

Rooted in darkness.  Reaching for light.

I let the petals unfold as they wish.

If another war should come, I’ll be ready and I’ll keep reaching. These roots run deep, so I’ll be ok no matter what.  It’s the only thing I know with certainty.

I treat myself much like my own little garden…

In the summertime, it flourishes!  I have planters with different flowers and small trees.  My tiny vegetable bed produces nourishment for our family of 3 (my daughter and I, and Harry the Guinea Pig). Flowering vines reach for the sky using trellises for support.  The birds stop by for a bath and a bite.  The bunnies and squirrels come too most days.  The maintenance required, minimal…watering, weeding, deadheading.

Naturally, the upkeep varies according to the season…

In the fall I plant bulbs, trusting that a colorful canvas will show come spring.  I cut back what has died down and create vibrant planters that can withstand the cooler temperatures.  I harvest the last bits of veggies.  I let the cold come.

There’s less to do in wintertime, but that doesn’t mean things aren’t happening beneath the surface.  The birds still come by for their daily meals.  Sometimes Henry comes too, leaving feathers and drops of blood in the snow from his breakfast.

The arrival of spring is exciting as new energy awakens what has been sleeping.  I freshen up the planters and the beds, prune what needs it, throw down some fertilizer, and consider what I may do differently to create a space I love even more.

I as a garden, much the same…grow, thrive, relax, sleep…repeat. 

My sobriety (me), my child, my people, my business…my priorities. Maintenance, continual. 

Every day I consciously do things that keep me on the right path.  After years of failures, I’ve come to embody a life that feels true to me…

I wake up in the morning and sit quietly with a cup of coffee.  It’s the most sacred time of my day.  I read a couple different daily meditations and sit with them (I’ll meditate again before bed).  I check my horoscope too.  Astrology, my guilty pleasure…Leo sun, Pisces moon, Libra rising.  You? 

I don’t jump on social media right away and I don’t watch the news anymore.  I watch little TV generally.  I find that these affect me negatively.  Sometimes if I need a laugh or some inspiration, I’ll turn on some comedy or music or a person I admire (Eckhart Tolle, Marianne Williamson, Jordan Peterson, etc.). 

After a bit, I go into my daughter’s room and say, “Good morning, Harry!” To which I receive a little squeak that makes me smile.  I open the blinds.  My daughter says this is her least favorite thing I do.  A blessing.  I sit on the side of her bed, and she turns her back to me for scratching…a longstanding part of our routine.  I try to remember that one of these days may be the last day she wants me to do things like that, so I take it all in.

I often look at her in awe…a part of me…and a part of me sometimes wonders if anyone ever saw me the way I see her.  Pretty quickly now I remember St. Francis’ prayer and accept that maybe I’m here to see others instead.

I’ve made some mistakes as a mother that I wish I hadn’t.  But all in all, I understand that by healing me, I heal her too.  I can apologize sincerely when in the wrong and correct myself.  I can be there as an example of a woman of dignity.  Present all seasons without making it harder.  A day at a time, I keep the chains broken. A gift.

My work, I love.  I would do it for free (don’t tell anyone though).  I’ve seen women brought to tears at the sight of flowers I’ve put together for them.  I once had a customer with dementia who every time we met, was like the first time.  Her caregiver told me she never went outside anymore, but after planting some colorful blooms, she danced out the door and started singing (I wish I could remember the song). Being surrounded by beauty touches something in us.  It matters.   

I do the things I need to do to stay sober (found here) and I do something each day to address every aspect of my being…mental, emotional, physical, spiritual.       

Not that you can tell from reading this memoir, but I’m a super private person.  My circle is small.  I’m not afraid to cut out people or things to protect my peace.  I’m not afraid to open the circle anymore either. I’m content with my singlehood and if I never fall in love again, it’s ok.  I’ve had the love story I’ve both dreamt of and feared (and plenty more excitement in that arena).  At the same time, I aim to remain open to love in all forms.

The number of times I’ve hit my knees from crying in the last decade is nothing compared to the number of times I hit my knees in thanks for all I do have. 

My sincerest wish is to make this life a work of art and to reach my potential before I go.

I take care of me, and I am free…free from the bondage of “myself.”  It’s all I ever wanted that I didn’t know I wanted.

Finally, my skin fits.

My biggest fear, writing and sharing my words, faced.  My next biggest fear, what people would say…

• “You’re so brave.”
• “You’re a piece of shit.” 
• “Thank you for being so vulnerable.” 
• “You don’t care about addicts at all.” 
• “You’re a sage, Sam.” 
• “This is taboo.” 
• “You’re such a good writer.” 
• “Why don’t you write about something harder?”

Also faced.  I don’t know what’s true, but I found that the only people upset with me for speaking the truth are the ones living a lie. 

I began writing this years ago attempting to figure out life and my love story, and once I started to, how could I not share it?  How could I experience all these things and keep them to myself?  Deep down, this was something bigger than “me” that I had to do. The fulfillment that’s come from contributing something potentially useful, beyond words. Turning nightmares into dreams…pure alchemy.

I’ve learned that evil is not a person.  It’s a thing that comes through unconsciousness.  This is why awareness and presence are so important. Temptation can get and destroy any one of us at any time if we’re not prepared.

“If you don’t stand for something you’ll fall for anything,” St. Francis.

To know my pain fully was to know joy fully.  The pain was the prison.  Joy, the truth…the freedom. 

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done.  There’s something out there that’s bigger and better than “us” and it does not exclude anybody.

To the people who have read any of my words, thank you.  Knowing you’re out there has helped me expand in ways I wouldn’t have otherwise.

There are many talented writers on this platform, but I’ve crossed paths with 3 specific ones that have impacted me in significant ways.  Maybe you would like them too.  In no particular order:

This one gripped me from Chapter 1. The writing is raw and palpable, bringing tears to my eyes on numerous occasions. I can’t wait to see what comes next and where her journey takes her: Darker Matter: A Memoir.

Next, a woman who also began as a result of a love story (with many parallels to my own). I have been swept away by her lovely way with words since we found each other, and I too am so glad to know that someone across the ocean understands: Cairo-Shaped.

Finally, a wise man with a heart wide open. He has helped me greatly from afar by sharing his experience and wisdom. His insight I’ve thought about at length many times. I’ve been so grateful for the support and guidance: Healing Your Heart From Within.

Also, keep a lookout for my dear friend, jkruzinski11’s Blog, who I first met in the 6th grade when she told me an inappropriate joke about Madonna. From our parents thinking we were bad influences on each other to growing in the light together. I love you, Jessie. You are one of the most impressive people I know. You have so much to offer the world.

And to another writer friend who made me feel seen through one deeply thoughtful comment, “I feel like I’m reading an open soul, like a medical school might use a donated cadaver…” Thank you so much for that. I re-read that multiple times along the way and it helped me to remember why I started. By the way, if anyone knows of a United Kingdom company that will offer a skilled worker visa, please reach out. Let’s help make her dreams come true!

Special shoutouts: My cherished little brother and MOST amazing sister (minus the ‘in law’), Sam; my dear new friend, Melissa; Thank you each for the BIG support! My dad and his wife (thanks for giving this a chance even though you weren’t sure about it). Love you all so much!!

My heavenly team…Betsy, Granddad, John, Rena, my dear cousin and uncle…I felt you. Thank you. Love you all. Bets, I know you’re proud. What would lost 19-year-old me have done without you? From poetry drenched in depression and shame, to this. Thank you for helping me. I needed you. You were perfect for me. Forever in debt.

I try to use my piece of the puzzle in ways that feel meaningful…sharing my art through flowers and words.  And if that has moved you in some way, I would love to hear.  To anyone who has told me already, thank you (truly).

I have become the person I say I am (both light and dark, shooting for progress).  Also true, my life is a lot better when I follow my own advice 😊 

“I choose peace, but this tea and incense can turn into Colt 45 and Newports if NEED be…OK?” Erykah Badu. Same, Erykah. Same.

I know now that I can face anything.  I don’t need to run.  I don’t need distractions.  I’m right here.  I’m facing life wholeheartedly.  A miracle.  I find myself longing mostly to dwell in solitude, in peace.  I live for the deeply felt, subtle moments when I can taste the limitlessness of life.  It’s always available, but only right here, only right now. 

I know I’m not the only one, and I’m thankful.

I hold onto hope and play like a child. I look to the light with a deep knowing that this is a gift.  All of it.

And, I’m going to die eventually, so how serious can anything be really?

Dearest reader, there is only one last thing left for me to do.  There is someone to whom I owe a letter…

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