Help Wanted

My timid little blog has been sitting idle. One month has stretched to two and now three have passed without a single completed effort on my part. Oh sure, inspiration knicks me in the ear, but it is too easily pushed aside for other, more practiced and practical actions. Dogs and horses and house and sewing machines have more command over my motivation than the keyboard. Plus, Gordy is traveling less, home more, which means I have him to talk to, to be my sounding board: Less angst equals less writing. It was time to admit it — this “writing thing” was just a phase. Close it down. Posting pictures on Instagram and Facebook would have to be enough expression of whatever it is needing my expressing.

Still, I have hung in this indefinite space of inaction, not because I think my blog is that important, but because I wasn’t sure I was ready for another good-bye, not after Andante. Her death, or rather, the loss of her life in my world, has made me fragile and vulnerable to the smallest sea change. Best not to self-inflict more loss. Best to hold onto what I have, just in case.

Just in case….of what?

I spoke with someone extraordinary yesterday, unexpectedly, and it brought that answer into sharp focus: I am still searching. I am still trying to find Jubilee, which is to say I am on the hunt for those experiences that enable life’s light to shine into my broken heart. I want more feelings of emotional resonance, not just with animals (which I always seek), but with humans (which is infinitely more complicated). This blog was me, dropping a hook into the currents of human attention, hoping to fish out a connection, not based on a shared interest in amusing animal pictures (though I lean on them heavily), but on a exchange of emotional resonance — the rare, but precious, thoughtful disclosure made by someone I hardly knew in response to something I’d written that says “I have walked this path”.

I don’t know how to get there from here, not exactly, but my thought is this: I will write it as a question. I will write it begging for your response, your thoughts, your kind and intimate revelations of how that question walked through you. I will hope that you are as brave as I am foolish; that you will respond and we can “talk” and that a beautiful collective wisdom will raise up on these pages. I need you. Are you there?

Writing about what sings to me from a life made full with animals.

18 thoughts on “Help Wanted

  1. I’m here, and your unique outlook on life is interesting to me. Keep going, I will keep reading. It’s always interesting to me as an intense reader to see how people’s thought processes work. I like the pictures, sure…but what you say and the depth of your feelings are what draw me to read your written word.

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  2. Lisa – thank you for your honesty and questions/concerns shared in your posts – In my opinion we all look out of our “own windows” and walk our own paths, but God is always there – right beside us – to ask and trust in – love to Kim too! Kitter Stanley

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    • Thank you, Kitter, good to hear from you. The older I get, the more aware I am of the persistence of our “own windows”. I think that is why I started writing — to be brave enough to say “this is what I see.” God walks beside me on four feet. 🙂 ❤

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  3. One hour after you posted this, I found it! Another serendipity! I just wrote your name on my list of people that “got me”…..or as much as anyone can…as I start a new venture in my life. At 75 I have left home, moved to the City with my dog and taken up residency near the U of M in an apartment which can be construed as “student housing”. I’m the oldest “Student” here…..with my little white dog, Ruby! It’s a mixture of sailing the sea and walking the plank….freedom and terror…walking hand and hand! Or as the play I saw yesterday, A Walk in the Woods….whatever metaphor speaks to each of us as we traverse this Life. It was a surrender to my Higher Self, Holy Spirit…a giant Nudge from the Universe….the “whatever” that demanded I address the concerns of my Soul! I wasn’t the only one moving on….my best friend took the journey to the other side of the veil. I thought my heart would burst as I held her hand and we said goodby. I told her, “You are the Master to my Rumi”…..excruciating loss! The gift? I had no idea I could love so deeply!
    I’m here…..on the search for that deep love…..our Spirit connection.! ps Call me!

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    • Oh, Pat, we must talk! What profound change! You are a seeker and seekers are given the gift of having an ever-expanding Universe respond to their queries. You would never be one to say “there, I’ve arrived”! I am so sorry for your loss and hopeful that her crossing over gives you even greater connectedness to the other side.

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  4. I’m so here! The too short time I spent with you was such a grace filled, eye opening and realizing that we are all walking on a rocky, painful path at times. The past 20 months for me have been so very difficult. But what i am finding out is this. I am always grateful, even when it was hard to see in the midst of this. I feel empowered and hopeful..,, now ready for what comes next. Too many of my friends and family are having health struggles and other such potholes of life. So together we walk this path, grateful for new experiences, spending time with others and the beauty of nature, animals and being. Music is my worship and how I experience much of my day. So for today, “I get by with a little help from my friends”. Please keep writing your words are a balm and you are a treasure. My sewing machine is calling. A few more days til I am home. I look forward to putting together the pieces. 😍

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    • Jan! I love you and your wise words so much! I am so glad for your feelings of hopefulness and empowerment — life will certainly respond! A thing we surely have in common is how we find regeneration in the creation of things of beauty, be it music or fabric. I am grateful for the detailed work of Kate’s quilt right now. It is such a wonderful connection to our shared time together. Hugs. ❤

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  5. Lisa, day by day, step by step we progress in this thing called life. I recently mentioned to one of my children that sometimes things happen to us that are meant for someone else and we are just walking on the same road. Feel, embrace, acknowledge all that comes your way and believe that the reason may be unknown to us, but it is still meant for us…possibly to discover at a later date! Keep smiling!

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      • Jo, lol! It is such a great sentiment — take what comes and let the reasons go; otherwise, we grind to a halt (or at least I do). Cancer did that to me, for sure. I am so grateful for all the ties that bind me, that make me get up in the morning — there is always a reason to keep smiling! ❤

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  6. Just when you think you should leave an area of your life behind seems to be the time to add a little bit more umph to that area and see what happens. I’ve missed seeing your blog posts but I think I knew why you were focusing on some other more crucial stuff. Don’t you think sometimes we need to spruce up other areas to see what the big picture looks like? I wish my words were as elegant as yours then I think you would know more of what I am thinking.

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    • I think I wrote myself into a corner — of my own doing. It was feeling pedantic; I was becoming bored with myself. Then Andante happened and I couldn’t write up to the level of that experience. So I thought I should just stop. You are right though: The part about giving it a little bit more and then truly, genuinely letting what happens, happen. Horse taught you that, right? Jean, some day, you and I must meet — truly meet. Come to Florida in the winter. Spend time with the horses. Talk. Share space. You are one amazing person. ❤

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  7. I’ve been waiting for you to write.

    About Andante. I know nothing of her story except her injury and her death. I wanted to learn about your time together and made the hopeful assumption that you would write the story. But instead your writing took me here:

    Today in a lovely conversation with my brother and my sister-n-law we talked about how loss is a teacher. How It lays bare something that wasn’t there before, how loss can open a door you didn’t know needed opening. Three months after my dad died, I adopted my first senior Wheaten (while vacationing in Australia, looking at a Melissa Nelson FB post with early morning tea having had no idea that I even wanted to do that). Nine months after my dad died I let go of two life-long friendships. Loss gave me permission I didn’t know I needed or wanted. I already had two dogs, why did I need a third one who was given up because she was incontinent, everyone said. I had known these two women since I was 18. They are good people, our families all knew each other. How could I let go of these friendships, everyone said with their eyes and faces but not words. I craved what I couldn’t articulate: real connections, real conversations, real self-examination and real sharing. It is rare. But without it, I’d rather walk alone. Heightened awareness is a burden and a blessing.

    From the first post I read on this blog, I loved your writing style. In fact, I was wowed. It feels effortless (is any writing effortless?). And it’s gentle. I like gentle. I think I am better at describing writing I don’t like, but you are helping me figuring out what I do like. Thank you.

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    • Jeanne, I love you so much! Thank you for sharing this and for reminding me of something important: the extent to which relationships with animals are a valid source or substitute for what you so well described: “real connections, real conversations, real self-examination and real sharing”. I, too, would rather walk alone otherwise. Your heart’s ability to know this — to open you up to a tender animal soul, when it made the least sense –that instinct rings true to me. Life is full of loss, even moreso, the more you love. I am going to write about Andante. I am almost there. Hugs.

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