New Roads to Travel, New Bridges to Cross

Greetings from Tilghman, Maryland!     After two days of driving, (and surviving Hurricane Sandy) we are settling in to our new “home”.    Well, home for the next six months.    Pebbles and Bam Bam I think will enjoy it here – lots of windows and a big yard for viewing birds and other wildlife.

Finding this house was pure serendipity.    As I was contemplating the situation with my parents, and the desire to be geographically closer to them I took out a map and drew a 250 mile radius around the town where they live.    From there I looked at what locations were near large bodies of water.   The Chesapeake Bay area stood out.   So I jumped on Craig’s List and BOOM found this house.   Perhaps not the most scientific way to make a decision, but it accomplished the goal.

Below:    A reminder that life is in constant motion.

 

Moving to Maine last year was all about “reconnecting with life”.    This move is all about getting that experience (as well as what preceded it), down “on paper”.    I’ve made a contract with myself, and I have a few people lined up to help hold me accountable.   I’ll be writing, three hours a day, six days a week.  Yes, there will be time built-in for exploring, hiking, photography, and continued reflection, but this “new road” is all about capturing my own experience and insights.   Hopefully, it will help others going through similar experiences.   My philosophy is even if it helps only one other person, then it will have been time well spent.

I never would have imagined my life as it is now, nor would have I chosen to take this path.   But that’s the thing about life, just when you think you have your journey all mapped out – roads get closed, bridges collapse and burn, detours appear.    Then you have to take new roads and cross unfamiliar (and sometimes frightening) bridges.       But the key is to not look too far ahead, for when you do you start to anticipate, make assumptions, plan and imagine (both good and bad things).   And when you do that, you miss what is right in front of you.     I’ll never throw away my maps for they DO come in handy.   But I’m learning to cross one bridge at a time, and to not allow my mind to wander too far ahead down whatever road I’m on.

Below:  Knapps Narrows Bridge, from the mainland to Tilghman Island, my new base of operations.

Everything Changes – Part II

This will be my last post from Maine.

WHAT WAS

In November of 2011 I embarked on a journey of “rediscovery”.   I knew that I needed to make a change.   For me that change meant moving to a place I had loved to visit for the previous 20 + years – Mount Desert Island and Acadia National Park.    My hope was that in moving here, I would blast myself out of the rut of malaise and depression I had fallen into; and that I would find again some joy in living.     My plan was to live here for a year and then re-evaluate .  One year later, I find myself feeling much better emotionally and in better physical shape thanks to 800 miles of hiking.    I’ve learned many things during this year, but here a few key ones:

• Time does not always “heal all wounds”; sometimes you need to implement drastic change in order to feel better.
• I create my own suffering with my desires (which in my case was wanting husband alive and my old life).
• Nature and living near a large body of water (for me), hold tremendous healing power.  Hiking in all  weather and all conditions (even when I didn’t FEEL like it), always paid off by providing insights, taking me out of a funk, giving me ideas for writing, or just making me feel good about myself by getting outside and doing something.
• I am not the same person that I was before my husband died. Living here has taught me to accept that fact, recognize what changes have occurred within myself, and understand how to integrate them with “my old self”, while moving forward.

WHAT IS

So what is next for this “Acadian Soul”?    Due to a decline in my father’s health and my mother’s role as caregiver I feel it is important for me to be geographically closer to them.   So to that end I have rented a cottage near the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland.    This will enable me to visit my parents on a regular basis, but still keep me living by the water in a quiet, secluded place well suited to writing, walking, and continued healing.

This blog will continue, although perhaps with fewer posts as my focus will shift to writing a book of essays about loss, learning from loss, and reconnection with life.     My lease on the cottage is for six months.   What happens then?   I don’t know, but I DO know I will approach it with a sense of adventure!    I hope you will continue to join me on that path and I thank you for reading this blog and supporting me each step of the way!!