Friday, August 17, 2012

The Return

I spent three months in Florida, finishing my education, and re-evaluating my life. I have some more work to do yet on both counts, but I have returned to the midwest and to my Voluptuous and Simple life. I have often said to friends and family with whom I have reunited, that all I want to do is to "can some tomatoes, make love to my husband, and wear an apron" thus far the apron is working out well.

Life is hard. Voluptuous, simplistic, or otherwise. To quote Maeve: "If you want to find out what happens next in my story, I'll give you fair warning: the next part is tough. But if you persist, you may recognize your own story of times too hard to bear that seemed as though they would never end. You may find the hidden gifts of those times. You will know that I know all about it. And I won't give you any crap. I wont' say things to you likd god-or goddess-never gives us more than we can bear. I won't lie. Sometimes life is just too much. When you want to lie down and die, I won't judge you. I'll sit and howl with you. Just remember: I am still here, I am telling you this story. And it's not over."

Bless you Magdalene by any name.

No my story is not over. My previous way of being, however, is. My way of being in love, my way of being in community, my way of working, and my way of relating to women is irrevocably changed. It remains to be seen exactly how.

I am so not Voluptuous right now, and nothing is simple. But simplicity is my refuge. Scrubbing cucumbers and making pickles, simmering the milk for yogurt, making cheese, mashing potatoes, and even washing the dishes is filling me with pride and purpose, as silly as that sounds.

I started this path longing to go back to basics, and to find the balance between a simpler time and the modern things that bring me joy (such as a latte and a great magazine) and so this is where I return.

Re-Turn: to turn again. Turn toward hope, turn toward things that are whole, and wholesome. I have buried myself in service to others, it is a perfect and socially acceptable place in which to disapper, so few really noticed, not even me. I have not only let myself go, I don't remember what it was like to be put together and present.

With the coming cold weather, all of nature turns inward in order to survive, those who find no safe place to return go mad or die. Like the rabbits on my German side of the family, I retreat and return to my warren and hope to find sanctuary.