We have returned home to Youngsville. We, in this case, is our youngest daughter, Steph, her soulful traveling friend, Becca, and Chaga, Becca’s friendly dog.
Our days and nights have been spent together- talking, crying, cooking, sharing stories about Weston and the trio’s stories from the road. For me, having Chaga here is a blessing. I miss having a dog to play and cuddle with.
Becca, Steph and Weston spent the last few months in Central America, but they also spent the last six years working on farms and exploring the world together. They were a tribe, dependent on one another for companionship, protection and developing their unique skills as travelers and farmers.
They are an inspiration for our adventures.
Back in Sullivan, Beth and I have returned to our school work, so we are very glad that Becca and Chaga are here keeping Steph company when we are off teaching.
As I write this, Beth is streaming the first of two yoga classes. I have a therapy session later this morning and we teach a mindfulness program at a middle school this afternoon. Fortunately, we have a moderate schedule the rest of this week that includes being supported by our tribe.
The young ladies are in town washing and drying all of our bedding and clothes because Beth discovered a few bites on her skin and is worried we may have gotten bed bugs in Guatemala or Miami. She has a few friends who have had bed bugs, so she has elected to take a conservative approach and scorch the hell out of any critters who might have hitched a ride to Sullivan. So be it.
Despite our busy schedule, I have many responsibilities to accomplish that I am not going to do right now. Instead, I’m allowing space for us to be present to this moment, to experience the grief that’s here rather than snap completely back into normalcy. This is a choice – to value relationships and feelings as much or more than keeping up with every piece of business that comes my way. As a man in our culture, it continues to be a challenge to swim upstream instead of go with the current that values busyness.
I believe that grieving Weston’s death and Steph’s loss and staying in the pain is an opportunity to rediscover and thaw out older traumas in my body. When we are children, we suppress our emotions in order to survive. But as we age, the need to suppress can be replaced by a choice to become more present to difficult feelings. This is my work – to allow and accept today’s reality and understand how it relates to older, buried wounds.
No, I don’t think we have bed bugs, but I don’t really know. No, I don’t know for sure that putting aside my “to dos” and engaging with grief is the best decision. There’s a lot of things I don’t know.
However, I am choosing to try my best to not pick a fight with God’s plan for us. I’m going to breathe and take one day at a time even if that includes fumigating our home.
So far, it’s working – our family, friends, colleagues and clients have all supported our journey. We are sad, but we are grateful. I am alive.
So be it.
