Time to Grow Back

Photo by Nicholas Posante of Finger Picking Farms

A hail storm blew through last week. A couple of days later I saw pictures of the storm damage inflicted on a local farm: kohlrabi stems broken, cabbage starts shredded, lettuces demolished. 


Someone asked the farmer if there was anything they could do, and his reply was, "Thanks, but they just need time to grow back." I know the feeling.


The past month has felt like an emotional hail storm. It began with relatives visiting and peppering me with slights and criticisms. Then my children were on spring break and I didn't feel like I was making their break memorable. To top it off, I had a paper to complete in order to graduate that I had been putting off for a year, and a very sick baby that wanted to nurse constantly and clung to me like a monkey. As a result of my mounting stress levels, there was relational collateral damage, and a dermatitis flare up that has stubbornly gotten worse. 


I am tempted to say that I deal with stress poorly, but looking at the situation objectively I am choosing to give myself the benefit of the doubt. In fact, I think I deal with stress exceptionally well; it's just that sometimes I hold myself and others to such high standards that no one gets a break. 


I am a mom of five children. I cook healthy meals daily, keep track of extracurricular activities, chauffeur them to practices and their friends' houses. I nurse a 17 month old, often throughout the night, and before this past year I was a full time graduate student, teaching two college classes each semester. During my teaching/student time I was pregnant, gave birth, and continued teaching with a brief break during the winter holidays. I know how to deal with stress, but I struggle with knowing exactly how much I can handle. The truth is, I often take on far more than I can manage, and I don't know how (or am not humble enough) to ask for help (or take it when it is offered).  


Writing this last academic paper was like crawling over the finish line of a marathon with a baby attached to my breast... literally. I was so exhausted, stressed out, and anxious every cell in my body was vibrating with adrenaline. 


Before this last month, I had been feeling pretty high on life. I felt like I was balancing my mothering responsibilities with my artistic passions, and my spiritual and physical needs fairly well... and then the emotional hail storm pummeled my ass. 


I thought that when I turned in this last paper I would feel free and be able to go back to the rhythm I had before the epinephrine started pumping like a bass drum through my veins, but that was not the case. For the past week and a half I have been reeling in an adrenaline hangover. My hands and arms have been itching and I have been more tired than usual. All I want to do is lie around, but with five children, one of which is a demanding toddler, that desire is unrealistic. However, that does not mean I can not give myself the opportunity to heal. 


Like the greens on the farm that had been shredded by hail, I need time to grow back... and I am... little by little, day by day, I feel the gentle pulsing rhythm of my days returning. I went to yoga last week. I took some time to paint, but I don't feel quite ready to go there right now. I am beginning to write for enjoyment and release again. I am beginning to play with my children again. I think I will go for a walk in the woods soon and listen to the wisdom of the trees. 


It just takes time... and patience and gentleness. I love myself enough to be patient and compassionate with this renewal process. I will soak in the sunshine of joy, and allow the gentle rain of my own compassion to nourish the cells of my consciousness. I will create boundaries to protect the fragile new starts generating within. I will give myself time to heal. I am growing back.


Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson 


Life is growth. If we stop growing, technically and spiritually, we are as good as dead. ~Morihei Ueshiba 


'Healing,' Papa would tell me, 'is not a science, but the intuitive art of wooing nature.' ~W. H. Auden


Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it. ~Tori Amos