Presence, Security

Maybe the Fertile Void Was Fertile After All

December 21, 2024

Power tools helped me move out of the “fertile void” this year.

I wrote about the “fertile void” a few times this year, because frankly that was the kind of year it was. The idea of the “fertile void” was first used in Gestalt therapy, and it describes times in our lives that are marked by major transitions, emptiness, confusion, or feelings of being lost and untethered. The flip side of the void, therapists say, is that all that angst can work for our good, because it leads us to new possibilities and helps us grow.

It is not a comfortable place, the void. But as this year draws to a close, I think that my void is lessening and that the light is returning, which is a nice realization, especially since today is the Winter Solstice. Starting tomorrow, there will be a little more light each day until summer. Soon, it won’t be dark before 5:00 pm anymore, and I’ll be able to walk at the park after work. There will be more time to be outside, to tame the blackberries, to tend the shrubs and trees. Time outside keeps me grounded (literally and figuratively, I guess), and is a vital part of my mental health. I don’t think I can ever get too much of it.

There are a few ways that the void has been diminishing for me lately. I never imagined at the beginning of the year that I would move my massage practice away from Mercy Center, where I worked for more than twelve years, but the space I found in a local chiropractor’s office right up the street from the Center has been a gift. I’ve continued to work with my own clients (including many of my favorite quilters) and with chiropractic patients too. More business has been good!

I completed a rough draft of my book, “Ordinary Holy: Searching for Grace in the Everyday.” It took years! Somehow, I slogged through to the end. I ordered rough copies from a self-publishing company and should receive them soon. After a final edit, it will be ready for the outside world.

I figured out ways to take care of my yard by myself. In past years, I relied on a local landscape contractor, but because of financial constraints, I needed to do more of the work myself. I bought a weedeater and used it. I bought new clippers and used them, too. Most recently, I purchased a small chainsaw. A chainsaw! It won’t take down trees, but it will cut branches and do odd jobs. Yes, I will be careful. A few of my friends have  expressed concern that I could get into trouble with a chainsaw, but I assured them that I would buy and use appropriate safety gear. Power tools are emPOWERing me!

Most importantly? Friendships blossomed this year, largely because of some of the difficult times that I went through. The difficult times, the void? They brought me someplace new, someplace where I am growing, someplace with new light.

The void is making it possible.

I still am not a fan of it, but I am hoping that the next time everything seems like it is falling apart, when I am plunged back down into uncertainty, that I will remember these months, and trust that I am still being held and that there is a good plan at work. It’s not my plan, because I never would have worked things out this way. But I think it may turn out to be better than anything I would have dreamed on my own, better than anything I could have imagined.

Presence, Security

Rainy Day Rest

December 14, 2024

This is what the weather looked like today at the resort where my daughter is working this winter. A blustery day!

Sometimes, it is a gift to have a major storm blow through on a weekend, especially if you can stay home and don’t have to be out in it. That was today for me.

There was wind, strong enough to blow the trashcan down the street and the last of the Japanese maple leaves to the ground. A few trees out the window still wear autumn colors, but those will be gone soon. In other words, it was a good day to stay inside.

The firewood stored by the woodstove was running low, and Biscuit needed a walk. We would have to venture out at some point. I asked my phone if there would be a better time to head out, since it was raining hard. It told me that it would stop raining between 11:00 and 1:00 pm. This apparently was an AI malfunction, because the rain never stopped, and the radar showed another mass of rainclouds heading our way.

It didn’t snow here, but it was close to blizzard conditions just a few miles up the hill. I am still without an AWD car. My nephew would have brought up the manual transmission, stick shift Subaru Forester that I wrote about in my last blog post, but since we only had rain here, we decided to wait. Nobody wants to be on the road in weather like this if it can be helped.

Here is the thing about driving in rainy/snowy/inclement weather: I am not a fan. Also, I am apparently one of the most cautious drivers on the road when rain is falling in buckets. I do not trust my car as much as other people evidently trust theirs. It’s been a great car (notwithstanding the new issue with the dreaded check engine light), but it’s old, and while the tires are good, it was raining hard and water was pooling on the road. Basically every other car on the freeway whipped past me, possibly going the same speed that they normally do in clear weather (at least that’s how it seemed). That didn’t feel safe to me.

While driving in the rain this week, I had a sudden realization. I’ve tried to ski over the years, but never liked it much. I always felt on the verge of losing control, which meant that I basically snowplowed as much as possible. I did everything I could to check my speed, to stay in control. Maybe people who love skiing don’t mind that out of control feeling? Or maybe they’ve done it long enough that they know their limits?

I think I drive like I downhill ski: I try to stay in control. I do the driving equivalent of snowplowing, which means I slow down, and when I slow down to what feels like a safe speed, cars pass me. On the slopes, I always felt a little embarrassed at my skiing speed. On the road, I don’t mind as much. I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said, “Go ahead and pass me. I’ll see you at the next light.” All of us hopefully make it to where we are going safely. I might be a few minutes behind the speedsters, but my stress is surely less.

Thankfully, I did not have to drive anywhere today. It was a day to go out to rescue the trashcan that blew down the street, and to bring in more firewood, and to take the dog for a walk. But after that? It was an inside, daytime pajama day. It was a day to be thankful for the rain. It was a day of rest.