Countryside Calmness

 A year has passed since we left the Connecticut seaside and planted new roots in the countryside of central PA. What a year it has been! Five months Michael and I shared living space with my mom who was most generous while our house was under construction. Not every moment was easy and without conflict, but we learned, with much grace, that love and flexibility were the keys for a smooth transition.  

Winter, spring, and now summer have presented a new, calm rhythm and flow as we center ourselves in the green, lush farmlands, mountains, and open space of Boiling Springs, PA.  The not so long ago hustle and bustle of the CT shoreline is now being replaced with a more laid back pace. Lovely impromptu visits with friends and neighbors are easily welcomed, and Michael and I realize the timing of our move seems "perfect" for this next season of our lives. However, the friendships we grew and nurtured in CT remain ever close in our hearts.

Our new community in which we reside is full of friendly neighbors who are eager to chat and gather at a moment's notice.  Mike and I are learning the ins and outs of grilling homemade pizzas with our outside pizza grill so that we can offer some fun yummy treats with everyone (that is when we don't burn them)! Sharing time with life long friends is extra special in every possible way. Living much closer to family (almost everyone) bestows a great blessing upon our lives.  

Unfortunately, adapting to the unpredictable weather and storm patterns as well as the central PA heat and humidity has not been easy on my migraine body.  People are kindly inquiring if I "feel better" living here, but this is not the case.  I am grateful for my new headache specialist who is wonderful, but we have work to do yet.  More climbing my Matterhorn for sure!

I will remain an active migraine advocate while living here offering HOPE to others through education and my own personal experience. I am honored to do so as my own healing journey continues. 

"Harvesting healing is always a continuing journey because it springs up from deep within a soul. We must set an intention of moving forward no matter what and accepting the day for what it brings. It means accepting the good with the bad and the indifferent. It means looking at our precious chronic illness through the lens of a strong warrior because we can do hard things."

                                                  Lisa Aleo

                                                   Climbing My Matterhorn, My story of                                                                           meningitis, migraine, and miracles

Spring Awakening

Since we have recently entered the anticipated season of spring, I found a lovely poem by my favorite author, John O'Donohue, from his book "To Bless the Space Between Us:A Book of Blessings."

"Within the grip of winter, it is almost impossible to imagine the spring. The gray perished landscape is shorn of color. Only bleakness meets the eye; everything seems severe and edged. Winter is the oldest season; it has some quality of the absolute. Yet beneath the surface of winter, the miracle of spring is already in preparation; the cold is relenting; seeds are wakening up. Colors are beginning to imagine how they will return. Then, imperceptibly, somewhere one bud opens and the symphony of renewal is no longer reversible. From the black heart of winter a miraculous, breathing plentitude of color emerges.

The beauty of nature insists on taking its time. Everything is prepared. Nothing is rushed. The rhythm of emergence is a gradual slow beat always inching its way forward; change remains faithful to itself until the new unfolds in the full confidence of true arrival. Because nothing is abrupt, the beginning of spring nearly always catches us unaware. It is there before we see it; and then we can look nowhere without seeing it."

For me, the longer days of light, warmer temperatures, the assurance of blossoms and new growth, and the varied songs of the birds, give me joy and confidence that the rhythm of nature becomes awake inside my soul. 

What is your favorite sign of spring?

My pretty tulips and pansies from our garden in East Lyme, CT.  They make me smile.

Some beauty from Boiling Springs, Pa.

May we remember to be good stewards of the generous bounty of God's creation.

Lenten nuggets

As Henri Nouwen once wrote, "O Lord, make this Lenten season different from the other ones. Let me find you again. Amen."   Upon reflection----

L---eaning into fully knowing God's deep Love for me

E---xamining my own brokenness and exploring ways to heal that brokenness

N---ever forgetting the power of patience and purposeful waiting to see God's will in         my life

T---hanking God for His everlasting mercy and forgiveness which is never failing

I have decided to share little nuggets of my faith journey this Lenten season. They will be brief and simple compared to some of my previous ones when it seemed like I remained in one big loooooong and complicated Good Friday.  Many of those deep struggles I share in my book. 

This Lenten season may I have the courage and strength to help others walk their unique path of difficulty and questioning by offering my presence in whatever small way I am capable. 

If you would like to share your thoughts, please do so either on my blog directly or as a private message on FB or IG.  Joining with you would be my honor. Let me know how I can pray for you.

May we continue to reach for the light just like these pretty crocuses. 

New year. New home. New beginnings.

 Hello my friends! I have not forgotten my faithful followers! As you may know, the past few months have been delightfully chaotic.  Michael and I moved  from CT to PA in July, and it is crazy to realize we are in February of a new year. Part of the building process seemed long and drawn out, but overall, we crossed the finish line! Hooray!

I thought about blogging many times, but when I tried to sit down and collect my thoughts, I could not stay on task. I did not posses the bandwith to focus. While I write everyday in my journal, those thoughts have remained private for now. My yearning to reach out once again has been tugging at me for some time, so I knew I had to jump back in the saddle soon.

Michael and I are settling into our new lovely place and making it a home. It is our hope it will convey an atmosphere of peace, comfort, and welcome. We invite  friends to stop and say hello, and we would be happy to show you this beautiful area of mountains and farmlands.  

Moving has not been complete without the nuisance of meddling Mr. Migraine. In my fantasy dreams I hoped I could lose him in CT, but of course, my daily reality proves differently. I cannot seem to escape his tenacity of finding me wherever I go. Ugh. I am managing his unwanted presence with the help of medications, rest, yoga and another good headache specialist for which I am grateful. 

I am excited to have my very own professional office space in which to write and continue my migraine advocacy work.  My memoir was written mostly from my bed or the couch in CT, but my "next" book shall come to life in a more proper setting, I hope. 

"New" can feel scary and uncomfortable at times, and I have certainly experienced those feelings over the years to some degree. However, my perspective of new is currently uplifting, fresh, and rewarding. I am settling in quite easily as the familiarity of my surroundings brings joy. 

Sending warm wishes from central PA.

Little did I know when I was in high school this Allenberry sign would be a foreshadowing of my future many years to come. It is truly funny how life turns out. The 1980 picture was taken from my high school yearbook when I was a sophomore.   Yes, I am dating myself...

 

Our Appalachian style home welcomes you.