I am so blessed to live where the road is red, like terracotta clay and there are friendly folks most every where I go. This has made my journey to wellness and recovery colorful and alive. Greeting nature with my eyes wide open has served to mend my wounds and light the way to better and better days. It is over a year now that my health has taken an upswing and my days have been filled with the challenge of seeing the glass half full.

I am inspired by a new country side and made the move to my new home without much disruption. I have had time to lovingly place my special collection of stones, shells and pictures around in my new place. I have touches of memories in my dwelling place that make my heart beat with joy. Many of the things I treasure have been packed away since I lived with my sister and space was limited. It is over a year since I lived with my partner and then grieved her death. She and I collected many of the treasures that filled our home with nature and love. I am blessed to move to the next phase of recovery in my own space. I don’t cry at her passing too much but rather celebrate the beauty of nature that filled our home.

I also celebrate my connection with so many folks in the blogging world.  I am committed to restoring those connections. The friendships with each of you are a significant part of my recovery. I feel less isolated and sense a bond that is grounded in compassion and healing rather than an illness. My mind is clear and I am at peace. I wish for each of you a similar sense of wellness.

I have found a part time job and feel good about this step in my journey to wellness. I have not been active at all and I miss you all very much. It may be a while longer as I will be moving closer to my job and to live by myself.  I have had over  a year of living with my sister and now I am ready to step out on my own.

I will continue to live in the country and draw  inspiration for my writings from nature. I will enjoy returning to the sharing process and have daily contact with you all.

I will be down and back on line on the weekend and will  connect with you at that  time.  I wish each of you well and look forward to getting back to my routine with you. Peace and more so….

My dear friends, I am having problems with my site and connecting with your sites. I can read your posts but can’t make comments. In addition I am interviewing for a part time job tommorow. It is a managemnt of a rental proerties and I might be moving to that location (still in the country).

Any way alot going on in my head( all good ) but I need some time to focus and do one thing at a time. I will continue to read your posts but may not be able to give comments.  I will get the problem with my site corrected at some point in the next few days or a week. Please hang in there with me.  Peace

It is beyond warm and on the uphill side of blistering hot! I have enjoyed writing stories about the creatures in my homeland and the world around me. I know it has been awhile since I have written a story to you my  friends.  One reason is the heat itself. An old image of the south is that folks are slow and backwoods lazy. Lazy we are not but slow we are in the summer because it is such an uncomfortable hot that the only way to feel ok is to sit real still.

But then there is my sister who,when she has nothing better to do, she likes to pull weeds. She sits as still as she can and pulls weeds. It is a time for her to clear her mind and relax.

But then there was yesterday. We have all been very lucky to escape encounters with snakes, that is until yesterday. My sister was weeding in the garden and she felt a sharp pain in her finger. She removed her gardening gloves and noticed it was an odd shape puncture. Then she saw the culprit a small snake that was grey with black and copper marks on it. We rushed her to the hospital(10 miles away) .  She was hospitalized for observation and was fine today. We searched for the variety of snake and found it was a Western Pygmy Rattlesnake. They are not as poisonous as a large Rattlesnake but they did cause her considerable  pain and all of us a creepy feeling about our snake population. There is no such thing as a snake all alone.  We captured this one to let the doctor know what kind it was that had bitten her but that is just one among no telling how many?

We also found that one of the snakes had shed its skin  which means they are more sensitive and more likely to strike. In a spiritual sense snake represents transformation, especially when it is the season of shedding. I can also give statement to the power of snake and its reputation for “freaking” this family and all the friends in town who heard the story and embellished  the it as it went along. The only thing good about a snake bite is the story you can tell and the wide range of reactions inspired by the story.

Hummingbird and Peopledogs

Occasionally I write stories using childhood themes. One such story is about my partner whose nickname was Hummingbird. Some of you know she died last summer. My Daddy gave me the nickname of Pete who is the narrator of this story. I had a creature friend when I was a child and she was a Horny Toad. They are lizard like creatures who are now nearly extinct but were plentiful in the 1950’s. I hope you enjoy this story.

Next to Horny Toad, my next best creature friends are Peopledogs. I learned the importance of having precious Peopledogs as life companions from my dear friend Hummingbird. We would dance with the fireflies under breath taking Northern Lights. Hummer and I were friends for many years. We traveled to see islands and volcanoes and back again. She sang from dawn to dusk and the other creatures smiled when she was around. She was one swell kind of a Hummer who filled my days with delight. She sang and I whistled lovely music that filled the air. We sat on the shore of big waters with our Peopledogs at our side and they knew that we loved them best of the other creatures.

Hummer would tell stories from her childhood and how in the back yard of her house she would have fancy tea parties and invite many guests. But her most important guest were here friends Peopledogs. She would serve the sweetest tea and the yummiest cookies and her guests never left hungry. After serving them tea Hummer let them use her swing and she pushed them high in the sky while singing them a beautiful tune. Just before the darkness would come and the fireflies filled her back yard, the party would end. The neighborhood guests would leave and she took Peopledog into her bedroom. Hummer and Peopledog laughed and laughed about the fun they had at the party.

On many occasions Hummer shared with me that Peopledogs have heartstrings that mend the wounds of little children. They speak up for little ones when there are only tears streaming down their face. When children are shy or quiet or have their feelings hurt they need Peopledogs in the worst kind of way. Hummer had let me know that the Creator had made Peopledogs of this sort just to help with children in some kind of hurt.

When I was a little tomboy my Peopledog was Tipi and he was my very first real and true creature friend. Without Tipi I wouldn’t have found Horny Toad and without Hummer I would never have learned about the importance of keeping a Peopledog with me for all my life. To this day I have always had a Peopledog by my side

As life went on my friend hummingbird flew full force into the blustery wind and crossed over to the other side. Before she left she helped me learn many life lessons and most of the mysteries about Peopledogs. Today as a grown up and when it is dusk I listen real close and in between the sounds of crickets I hear the buzzing and humming melody of my friend Hummingbird. I tuck my Peopledog  PeteyFaye close to my side and whistle until the moon is in sight. Goodnight sweet Hummer, well done and more so…and will be.

I just returned from a brief vacation with a friend. We went to Missouri for her to purchase a Recreational Vehicle. It was a relaxing and pleasant trip with much laughter and sharing stories from our past. The trip was only three days long but we had so much fun that it seemed like several days. The comfort of being with a friend who also laughs a lot is just what I need. We appreciated the beautiful country side of hills and lushes green and we laughed at each others corny jokes.

What was important about this trip was that I was just a friend. I was not a friend with bipolar who was moody or irritable. Nor was I overly sensitive when my friend would poke fun at me when I couldn’t find the words I needed in a conversation. It was simply two friends spending time together. We have known each other long enough to have a level of trust to share feelings and life stories

We spent the bigger part of two evenings and into the night telling life stories. At one point my friend asked if I talked with friends during some of the difficult times in the past. I had to admit that I did not share my daily troubles with anyone in the past. It was even more difficult to share my feelings and thoughts. I don’t know that I knew how to share my emotions and thoughts in years past. It was almost as though I was being choked by some aspect of bipolar. Expressing my feelings and thoughts was out of the question. Many of the folks that I knew did not know I had bipolar. My co-workers were unaware that I had bipolar. For the bigger part of my life I did not have a therapist. All in all I was primarily alone and could not express my experience with the illness bipolar.

My friend is a therapist and a wonderful listener. I still find it difficult to talk about the more painful experiences of my life. I shared what seemed an outline of my life story but didn’t land on any one particular story. I am fairly sure that I will share more in time. What is it about this illness that it can rob us of so many of the ordinary yet important aspects of life? Sharing with a friend and building a history with each other by telling past history is so important in building a connection. I don’t think I need to answer this question. I think I need to enjoy the relationship with my friend and let it be a healing part of my journey to wellness.  

 There is something compelling about wild flowers. They dot the roadside and some of the fields with simplistic beauty. Many of the species of wildflowers at some point in the season become weeds. Depending on where they are found some folks may make every effort to kill them or mow them down.

I can identify with wildflowers. In the brighter and more colorful part of my season the blooms can be inspiring and even creative. Just as the wildflower I have cycles that determine how I am viewed and how I view my own behavior. There seems to be a period directly before I develop hypo manic behaviors in which my right brain kicks into gear and the natural part of me is creative and can occasionally create beautiful images.   Like wildflowers, I may then turn into a weed. It may require that I take medication to keep the weeds from overtaking me.

Some folks in our culture strive for neatly displayed annual and perennial flowers and they work hard to eradicate weeds. They forget the simplest of the blooms of the wildflower and dismiss the season of beautiful flowers. The weeds are pulled out and toxins are used to kill the plant. In a similar manner our culture is not welcoming of the hypo manic behaviors and they may even be apprehensive that we will get out of control and overtake their orderly and neatly organized life. These same folks may support the use of harmful medications to keep life orderly, ordinary and safe for them.

As I have my morning coffee on the back porch and take in the sounds just after dawn I marvel at the sounds and what an early morning symphony of nature it can be. It is by no means quiet, as birds are chirping and crickets rubbing their legs together. There are the roosters announcing that another day is beginning. But of all of these it is the mocking bird that is most enchanting to me. Before they begin to exchange sounds with me they make a metallic sound, somewhat like “ boingggg! boinnnggg!” and at other times sound like an annoying cell phone. It is my understanding that these are male mockingbirds who are trying to attract a mate with these peculiar sounds. They are also trying to copy other birds and are sometimes annoying with their mocking over and over again.

I may have mentioned before that as part of my manic self I love to make noises and match nature sounds. But the exchange with the mocking bird does not come from one of my polarities. It is one of the more enjoyable and healthy things I do on most mornings. I actually love to do bird calls of all kinds. Mocking bird has a special place for me in all bird sounds. Perhaps it is because I get a response back from the creatures and I feel that I am not alone and have made a connection. I do hope I am not confusing the male mocking birds by mocking back at them. Maybe one of you knows and could let me know? But then maybe I like to keep my own interpretation of my experience with mocking birds. They seem as happy with me as I am with them. And despite their reputation of having a song named for them and even a movie, they fill my world with a simple bonding, each morning, on my back porch.

It is HOT! Do you hear me I said HOT! Standing outside without shade is a mistake if you don’t want a big time sun burn. This is typical of the 4^th of July in Oklahoma. I intend to celebrate today by visiting a friend who has a pool. I love to swim and it sounds like a special day for all of us.

I hope each of you has a happy holiday and will have a safe time around fireworks. I tend to watch them from a distance, I’m a little bit spooked by firecrackers. When I was young I preferred those snakes that you put on the sidewalk. They were not as exciting as firecrackers but they didn’t hurt my ears. I was sensitive to noises, and I still am.

This is just a quick post to let you know I am here. I hope all is well in your life today!

What can be said about the experience of hypomanic and manic behavior, the result of rapid cycling emotions and insights. Judgment is out the window and the swirl of the wind and trees can be toppled and life as I know it can be upside down. I suppose it varies to a great extent, from one person to another, what the behavior is when in this polarity. For those of us with clearly diagnosed episodes of mania, there are enough mistakes and disruptions in behavior to bury us. I choose to keep close the specifics of the damage done to myself ,family and friends. It is a dreaded part of my illness but I choose to forgive myself and express it with some distance so that I might continue with my healing. This poem is dedicated to each of us who has struggled with this part of bipolar.

The Tree Lives in Me

A glorious stand of trees grows to meet the sky. A single tree with leaves brilliant green in the shadows. I have come to realize the tree lives in me!The branches are alive in body,mind and spirit. Heart strings embrace harmony; wisdom,peace and love. In small sways and the tiny twigs, the song is strong.

In the forefront, burnt umber leaves of grief, withering. Yet, I am Cherokee and I live in the tree. We are all related, kindred spirits growing strong.Branches crackling with heavy pain; The breeze echoes the moaning, whaling, and weeping.

Yet, centered high in the treetop we see, Glorious green leaves of transformation. My imperfections and human blunders are carried away with the breeze. Transformation from humiliation to humility and from shame to self-forgiveness. I am the tree of self discovery.

And more so and will be….Blessed be the tree.