When musing with another gardener a few years ago, this gardener mentioned his concept of “Go Day,” that spring day when suddenly the afterburners get ignited in the garden and it is time for us gardeners to well….go Go GO!
At that time, it seemed an apt description for how our seasons turn abruptly from wintry conditions to full tilt spring and in response, there is suddenly a list a mile long of urgent jobs to do in the gardens.
Lately however, it is hard to figure out which day is “Go Day.” Already this spring we have had some excellent candidates for “Go Day.” On these glorious mornings when I thought it was Go Day, I joyfully plunged my hands in the dirt to plant early crops like peas and beets. I approached the removal of the Rose suckers with enthusiasm, maybe too much as I then had an evening of pulling tiny rose thorns from my fingers. But still it was bliss.
However, these early Go Day candidates fell short of the mark. Instead of heralding warmer days, each of these 70 degree humdingers were followed by a string of glowering days of bitter cold punctuated by snowstorms.
Which brings us to our storm on Thursday night which dumped a good five inches of heavy snow on the farm.
An old timer I ran into ( this person being almost a peer of mine as I have now been here 40 plus years myself), said, “Well this IS Northern New England after all, and this is just the way spring is.” I admired his philosophical point of view. However I haven’t changed all that much since my blog last week about my lack of patience in the garden. So for me, I went from savoring the weeding to resentfully watching snow fall. And now lingering cold has left me wistfully indoors looking at the five inches of snow on the ground that has stuck around for four days instead of agreeably melting right away as most spring snow does.
I’ve tried to go with this flow and do inside spring chores like tucking away winter clothes. Only, I still need the sweaters. Even the heavy ones.
So here I sit, wearing my favorite Irish sweater AND a winter coat while feeding the wood stove. There is nothing quite like filling the woodbox in April. Bikes and other accoutrements of spring block the way to the woodpile and I trip and crash, clutching what I keep hoping is my last load of logs to haul into the house for the season.
As I crash dash to and fro the woodpile, I try not to look to the Arbor Garden. I don’t really want to see the fate of the Daffodils. I am certain the glory of last weeks’ display is toast. When the snow does melt, I hope I will be able to pick bunches of broken Daffodils to fill the office with spring cheer. But who knows? This snow has smushed everything for a long time.
Shrubs and trees encircling the Arbor Garden and all our perennial beds were budded out. Some even had young leaves. This means many limbs are drooping from snow caught in the young foliage. This kind of storm often means we have to cut back shrubs because they don’t pop back into their vertical positions again. Nothing like starting the season by butchering the Flowering shrubs.
Okay, I had to go get more wood so I took a gander at the damage. It’s still a little early to tell but the fate of the Daffodils looks bleak. Other plants like the Hellebores, also known as Winter Rose, seem like they may well rise up and resuming their business of blooming. Time will tell.
I can also hear the drip of melting snow so perhaps in a day or two I will be out there again in a snowless garden tackling things like the crab grass. It would be great if I loved crab grass because nothing stops its roll. Not snow or ice or cold. But I prefer Flowers. That’s my story and I am sticking to it. Loving Flowers means more tears than loving crab grass, but it means more joy too. The Daffodils and I still have the beauty of last week before the agony of the storm. I hope they feel it was worth it. I do.
I know the dust hasn’t settled yet. Astrologer Pam Gregory describes life on Earth right now as living in a demolition zone. So yes, maybe clarity is not available yet as the air is still full of demolition dust. However, some things I believed were true feel incredibly MORE true after this last year. One belief underscored and highlighted for me is that we need each other.
Another thing I have certainly noticed is that issues I thought were done and dusted have come up again for another round of healing. Today I thought I would specifically write about Inner Child work. We brought our Inner Child combination Flower Essence out decades ago. I worked with this Essence a lot then and did much healing around the experiences of my inner child in her challenging childhood. This year with so many things going in different directions than planned and with so much change, little Molly has been in need of a lot of love, reassurance and Inner Child too.
While I have worked to make peace with what I went through as a child, this doesn’t mean that little Molly within me isn’t still affected by what happened. She still has a strong tendency to drive current situations from the framework of childhood events. She needs my grownup perspective and the reminder, among other things, that no matter what is going on, she is safe and won’t be abandoned.
Abandonment is a big issue with my inner child for a number of reasons. One reason is that when I was four, my little sister who was mentally challenged disappeared from our home forever to rarely be mentioned again. While to the adults this was no doubt a heart wrenching decision in an era when people thought it best to do this and then not talk about it ever again, to me it was a terrifying existential threat that if I wasn’t perfectly behaved I too would be sent away forever.
To prevent being sent away, I took on the roles in my family of origin of cheerleader, ever present sunshine, hardest worker ever, model student, and an overall well behaved, cheerful and polite child who was never a bother to anyone. I tried to take care of everything by myself. If you’ve been reading this blog for a long time, you may remember that when I broke my left arm as an adult, the first thing the orthopedic surgeon said to me was that I had broken this arm as a child, and it had not been set. Little Molly had “taken care” of a broken arm all by herself.
I am spending more time thanking little Molly for how her efforts in childhood and throughout my life have made such a difference. I don’t think I would have survived my childhood without her indomitable spirit. Little Molly was also key to creating Green Hope Farm and everything we’ve done here. She hauled six thousand loads of compost and made over a thousand Flower Essences for us. She got us out in the world to share what we we’re doing here. She can and did move mountains.
This pandemic year has no doubt been stressful to all our inner children. Nothing like being in an out of control situation to remind us of when we were children with little control over our daily life circumstances. When I found myself without staff for a number of months, little Molly kicked into high gear and got all the work done. Just like she always had. When I needed to work from dawn ’til way past dusk, she kept going. She was heroic but also trapped within the rules of engagement from a childhood in which she had no choice but do it all by herself. While adult Molly is aware of the constant support of Divinity, little Molly remembers a childhood in which the stand ins for Divinity ie my parents were either not there or there in a negative way. Stress can trigger adult Molly into going back into little Molly patterns of feeling abandoned to do it all alone.
Among other things this year has been about helping a more integrated self let go more deeply of this, “I have to do everything all by myself” mindset. Together we have let go of many of the roles that little Molly thought we had to fill. By necessity, little Molly had no sense of balance and now I, adult Molly, am working to help her have that. It’s time for more rest and play.
So how did this need for a better balance of work and play become so clear? Last summer as I struggled to fill the shoes of many missing staff Goddesses, I got very sick with a kidney infection. As the months flowed on, and the infection lingered, I found myself needing more staff than ever. We were busier than ever, and I just couldn’t keep the pace of old. Mercifully events (no doubt orchestrated by Divinity) conspired to help me let go of the roles I had played in the daily operations of the office for three decades.
For example, wonderful summer staff Goddess Anna, a college student on break, found herself spending her sophomore year in college in our office instead of at school. With Anna there and the return of our other staff as childcare and schooling got sorted out, I was needed less in the office.
Another part of it was that even with masks on, we couldn’t socially distance with me in the office along with all the other returning staff. At first this meant I did my jobs at night or on the weekends but then the amazing staff Goddesses, Vicki, Jen, Sam, Anna and Lizzie stepped up more and more, and I began to let go of this night work.
Slowly with lurches and stumbles I let go of what my role had been for so long and went into a place that felt like a bit of a void to little Molly. How was she safe if she wasn’t working 24/7? To adult Molly it felt right to let go of daily operations and focus on the gardens and making the Flower Essences as my work. In fact, I began to wonder more and more how on earth I had done all that I had been doing because the gardens and the Essences filled my days. Then I would remember, “Oh right, little Molly did it.”
This shift felt really good to adult me. I felt great excitement as the younger generations here began to express their visions and insights into how to do things and where to go next. Our first collaborative project within this new framework was the Path of Light trio which was a wonderful co-creation coming out of what the younger generation saw as what you all were asking for linked into how the Angels and Elementals here wanted to answer that request.
Little Molly was more in a panic. Was this safe? Was she doing enough? What was she if she let go of the work habits of 60 years? The Angels would talk to little Molly all day reassuring her and helping her let go. As you may recall, I broke both my arms into dozens of pieces when I needed to let go of my family of origin so letting go of my baby GHF in the way I had always held her was very big for little Molly and for big Molly too.
This is where other people came in. The staff Goddesses have been so loving about my letting go process. We’ve laughed as well as cried which is saying something during a pandemic! Additionally, I looked to a wise healer I have worked with at pivotal times over the years, and she was so helpful to me. It’s been so deeply healing to let go and get her healing help and her wise perspective on the process I am going through. Among a lot of other things, she was the one who called me back to working with little Molly through this transition. This has helped little Molly to feel safe, loved and appreciated. Little Molly has begun to know it is enough to just enjoy life with adult Molly.
I asked this healer, Kathy Skolem for permission to mention
her here. I also asked her for a description
of her work and this is what she said.
“Kathy is an
intuitive whose knowledge of anatomy and physiology and a deep understanding of
the body mind connection offers a foundational approach to the many facets of
healing. With 29 years in practice and her studies, Kathy brings her skills as
a sensitive together with science. She is a facilitator and a teacher,
empowering her clients to grow from those life experiences that have taken away
their joy, inner peace, and their sense of well being, offering the opportunity
for them to bring balance and flow back into their lives.
Kathy has worked in the field of energy studies for 29 years. She
is a certified Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapist, Somatic Experiencing
Practitioner, an APP Polarity Therapist, has taken an apprenticeship class in
Plant Spirit Healing with Pam Montgomery, is a graduate of the Robert T Jaffe
School of Energy Mastery, and served as an assistant staff member at the School
of Conscious Healing in Sedona, Arizona. She has taught classes in the
mind/body connection and creative visualization She has continued her studies
with the online courses in neurobiology from the National Institute for the
Clinical Application of Behavioral Medicine. Her educational journey started
with a Reiki and a national certification in massage therapy.”
These are the things I would like to add. I’ve worked with Kathy for 25 years. She was an amazing healer from the first. All she has studied since then has deepened her gifts. She loves Flower Essences and also has a deep connection with plant medicine. She worked at the farm in the early years and was key to the co-creation of the incomparable Alignment Garden Essence. She has so much fairy energy and really gets me laughing. She works with animals as well as people and has extensive experience with horses. I have had some very memorable healing sessions with her that helped me incredibly. The work we have done lately has been layered with work on healing my physical vehicle from what it has been through of late and also this key work of setting little Molly free to know it is enough for her to just be with me. Kathy does great work on the phone. Call her at 802-356-2262 for a phone session.
Spring comes slowly here. Days of spitting snow flurries and chill winds predominate. This makes the moments of sun and warm feel very precious. My heart sings when the pussy willows arrive or an early spring Flower rises up through nearly frozen ground.
The stop and start quality of Spring serves me, much as I don’t like it. When we have a rare string of moderate Spring days, I get a little carried away, wanting to pull up every last clump of crab grass in acres of flower beds. I act as if all garden tasks must be addressed on the first day the earth is thawed. Fortunately the fluctuations in the weather mean I can usually do only a bit of weeding then I must wait for another thaw (and rest, which is usually always needed).
I can’t prune all the fruit trees at once either because, most days it’s bitter cold up in the their branches. Arctic wind on the ground only feels worse when ten feet off the ground. I must prune one tree at a time when the conditions are kind and I can hold the clippers without my mittened hands freezing. This slow pace is fine for the trees. It’s just me that is impatient. Right now I have one tree left, a Paula Red apple down where the new beehives settled in last summer. The tree is perfectly content to wait for the next warmish moment.
If I lived in Bermuda perhaps it would be the heat of summer that would stop my garden roll and get me to rest. Here it is the extremes of weather that are my built in braking system. Like today. I went out and weeded the asparagus then sifted a load of compost then put a fresh layer of this lovely rich soil on the whole bed. A stiff wind encouraged me to conclude that was enough.
This year of constraint has been like a northern new England Spring. My tendency to push has been reined in. What I would really like right now is the freedom to do A LOT of everything I want to do in a sea of possibilities. I guess we all want that. But life has other plans for us right now. I don’t know why, and I don’t know for how long. But like northern New England Springs, I am trying to accept the tempo of this time and enjoy the windows of sunlight and warmth. In other words, I’m trying to be more patient, more able to go with the flow, less likely to push the river.
Some days go better than others! How about for you?
A dear one going through great travail spoke to me of her hopelessness and helplessness in the face of heavy hits that keep on coming. A list of what she has dealt with in the last year reads like the book of Job. With her signature honesty she noted that she feels so bereft that she doesn’t ask for Divine help anymore: this dark passage has made it hard for her to feel help is there.
Events continue to take a blow torch to my sense that I know what anyone should do in any situation. If I see things one way, something immediately happens to have me see it the opposite way. With this beloved, I didn’t know what I would do if faced with the extremity of her situation, and I certainly didn’t know if I would feel the presence of Divinity in her circumstance. Yet……after a bit, I encouraged her to ask for Divine help whether she believes it is there or not.
After I spoke, I felt perhaps it had been wrong to pony up this suggestion. I don’t know what it’s like to walk in her shoes, and I certainly understand why she would neither feel the pulse of Divinity or have any interest in looking for it.
After we ended our conversation, I stumbled on this Hafiz line.
“It is not known where the real abode of the Divine Beloved is, only this much is clear, I hear the sound of bells from the traveling caravans.”
This reminded me I’m grateful when others share encouragement and their experience of Divinity. These are “the sound of bells from the traveling caravans.” They keep me going and lift me up when I flounder. So maybe it is okay when I ring the bells on my camel.
Which leads me to explain why I rang this bell for this beloved and why I ring it for you so frequently on the topic of asking for Divine help. Perhaps this is a bell that you do not need to hear. Perhaps it will support you. In either case, I salute you on this shared journey. I hope your camel is not too grumpy and that your ride is not too bumpy.
But back to the topic of asking for Divine help. Young children’s energy systems are dialed in to the vibrational changes occurring on the planet. The children are equipped to make the vibrational leap with less bother than us older folks. They have come in with energetic circuit boards that work for the incoming energies. This gives them an ability to assimilate this energy with relative ease. This ease stands in contrast to the work required for us older folk to adapt our energy systems to the incoming light and the new earth grid of light energy.
For us older folks, this shift is a project. Not a crushing one, but nonetheless an arduous one. The grace in our collective situation is that Divinity is not asking us to do it alone. We receive constant support.
So if everyone needs help and everyone is getting Divine help, why does it improve things to ask Divinity and a team of Divine helpers for detailed help? When we ask for specific help, the help can be more specific.
These Divine helpers see our energy system clearly and know what each of us need to make the leap, but they can’t know exactly how the shift is playing itself out in our bodies. A trainer knows how to get us in shape for a marathon, but us explaining how each step of the training is going vastly improves the training strategy and our progress. So it is with this vibrational shift.
In previous blogs (including one on May 10th, 2020 called Welcoming the Light- Possible ways to Proceed and Flower Essences to Help and also one on March 4th, 2021 called Path of Light Trio) I described a specific way I ask for help. In brief, I call in Divinity and the Angels, Elementals and Ascended Masters that I work with. I welcome those helping me that I do not know. Then I ask for help to release from my mental, emotional, etheric and physical body what I need to release. I ask for help to welcome the higher vibrations into my energy system, knowing the release has made room for more light. Then I sit or lie still for about an hour.
While this process once seemed like an optional tool to use whenever I remembered it, I now use it daily. Decades ago we had latitude about our time frame for spiritual growth and the pace of our spiritual shift to light bodies. Now we must give our undivided attention to this energetic work. Our planet is on the move and so must we be.
To support this process, I’m also using the Path of Light trio. I’ve mixed the trio into one bottle, and when I begin and finish this energy session, I spritz the mix over and around myself.
The first in the trio, Clear the Path specifically helps us with the vital work of dumping lower vibrations that are no longer compatible with the rising frequency of the planet. These heavy vibrations need to be released if we are going to be able to stay in sync with our planet’s rising vibration.
I ask outloud to deepen the clarity of my requests. Recently I read about a spiritual seeker who was also chief counsel for a multinational company. When pressed with a major problem that he did not know how to resolve, he would crawl under his desk during meetings to ask Divinity for help outloud. This is how important he felt asking outloud was.
I also try to be very detailed. Yes, our cries of, “Help me!” will be answered, but in this conversation with spirit, all the clarity we bring means much more focused and effective support. I also include a request to release what my Divine helpers know I need to release. This way I also receive the support they know I need from their overview of me and my situation.
The process to clear the path takes on unexpected twists and turns. I look to events in my daily life, especially the ones tripping me up, to see what I need to release in order to make way for higher vibrations. I have begun to think everything needs to go but my connection to Divinity. I hold onto this much as a child holds onto its mother’s skirt.
Topics for release crop up like gophers. So many gophers! As issues surface, they seem obvious in retrospect but I don’t see them coming. All these shifts may be necessary but they are disorienting. Time is strange and things we once enjoyed feel alien and uncomfortable. I’m finding myself a bit unsteady on my feet, like a toddler learning to walk after mastering the art of the crawl. I don’t want to go back to crawling but the upright thing feels surreal.
Here’s a little example. I have always thought of myself as fairly adept at the social ramble. My family of origin stressed what I think of as “cocktail party manners,” and I was good at them. This past weekend about a dozen people converged at the crossroads in front of the farm. As I caught up with all these neighbors I found myself completely overwhelmed by this “crowd.” I fumbled my way through the many conversations that sprang up, aware that a comfortable crowd for me has become me and my dog. Was this all a result of covid isolation or have I become an introvert? I don’t really know. This caravan journey is so very dusty. No wonder we need bells ringing!
This dust swirling within and without informs what we ask to release next. In this case I needed to surrender my sense of myself as socially skilled and any rising shame that this isn’t me right now. In this time of metamorphosis all we can do is surrender to what is then surrender again and again all with the support of the vast group of spiritual guides here to help us do it.
These guides are like a crew of expert climbers taking us up El Capitan for the first time. I don’t know about you, but I am going to ask them for their advice then take it. I am going to be specific about what I don’t understand about the climb and how it is affecting me and I am also going to integrate their guidance as much as possible. As I mentioned previously, one piece of advice I get daily is to drink more water. This cleanse process is moving lifetimes of low vibrations out of our mental emotional, physical and etheric bodies and hydration makes the release vastly easier on our systems.
As our release makes energetic space within us, spirit will also help us Welcome the Light. We are not separate from this incoming light but our many illusions of separation clog the flow of this light. As we release, this Flower Essence and the team of Divine support help us let our light predominate in our energy systems.
We are toddlers in our new light bodies on our new earth so Walk in Light helps us steady ourselves as we keep going.
In my toddler state, in any state really, bells ringing across the caravan really help me, so I thank you for all your love.
We’ve lived on this hill for almost four decades. It has given us a breathtaking view every day. It has brought us the gift of so much beauty. There are so many things to love about living on the crest of this hill. But when all is said and done, the biggest character on the hill is True Road.
Under an arch of magnificent maples, True Road tears up our hill at what seems an impossibly steep angle. True Road is a dirt road as well as steep one. This combination in northern New England makes it a flamboyant, quirky, and opinionated presence figuring large in our lives.
New neighbors just arriving on our road look befuddled when I mention the drama of the road. Within a few months, they nod with knowing grimaces. The road with its special hill speaks to one and all who live on it.
The extreme steepness means that during winter weather, all seveneight nine months of it, there is a need to proceed with caution down the hill. On any morning of precipitation such as snow, sleet, icy rain or freezing rain, people going to work line their vehicles up at the top of the hill, right where the farm sits. They get out of their cars to peer over the hill to watch how the journey down the hill is going for the car ahead. Sometimes, despite the best intentions, things do not go well, and this mass of people comes in handy when many willing hands are needed to help someone out of a ditch.
At other times of day when there is no crowd, we are the default source for willing hands. Being situated at the top of the hill, we are the first place people come for help when they find themselves off the road. They may have gone too fast down the hill or the hill has simply had its say despite cautious driving. The hill is a mystery. It has its own ideas. Even the mightiest cannot outwit the hill. Even the town plow flipped over on its side while braking down our hill.
We have a few recklessimpulsiveoverconfident confident drivers on the hill who are registered frequent ditchers. When there is a knock on the door on a snowy night, it’s almost always one of these two. What can I say? They like drama.
Then there is mud season on True Road. During the weeks of mud season, the road unlocks and the texture of the road goes from hard pack to soupy gloop. At night, if temperatures drop, it locks up again, freezing the ruts created during the soupy gloop stages.
How do these ruts begin? How does any rut begin? I don’t think anyone sets off to create a rut, but somehow they happen. The more cars and trucks that traverse the road, the deeper the ruts. Sometimes the old saying about digging to China comes to mind. How can these ruts get so deep?
As the ruts deepen they pull cars hard in different and unexpected directions. There is nothing quite like a rut ride on True Road. One of my children had a friend who wanted to design roller coasters. Numerous visits to the farm laid rest to this dream. Who needs roller coasters when they have this hill?
This morning for example, Jim set off to school in the truck. He called when he got to school to report on the amusement park ride that had sprung up overnight on the hill. He suggest a route down the hill through the ruts: I think it was right, hard right, then hard left, then right. On my first (and definitely only) trip down the hill today, the ruts were nearly impassable even with Jim’s guidance. Coming back from my errand, I parked the car at a neighbors and hiked the hill. This was its own drama as several cars came bumping down the hill while I walked up. As their cars lurched like pinballs unexpectedly pulling right and left, I dove for a steep bank to get out of the way.
As the day warms, the ruts will get worse and the ride more extreme. There will be a pack of sensible drivers who will park their cars with me at the bottom of the hill and there will be a few fearless ones with cars stuck halfway up the hill in a particularly gargantuan rut. We’ll need the town grader to save us before the road is smooth and safe again. As we wait our turn in a town full of problematic dirt roads, we’ll have at least a day or two to share notes and cluck over the car that will have to be towed away in order for the town grader to smooth the ruts.
Bonding is a strange and unexpected gift of the hill. New England with its bitterendlesstiresome cheeky winters may keep us too long in our separate homes as has this darn virus, but the hill keeps us connected. We share a common difficulty and enjoy each other’s grit and determination to navigate this challenge. We help each other up and down the hill (especially us Sheehans at the top of the hill) and we tell tales of mishaps and glorious moments of victory.
Maybe we will look back on this time of the virus like that. Maybe we will find increased empathy as we share what it has been like for each of us. Maybe we will savor each others grit and determination in the face of something that moved us unexpectedly all over the place in ruts that were not of our creation. Maybe this will bring us closer to each other. I hope so.
As a community of Flowers, Angels, Nature Spirits, Dogs, Cats and even some People, Green Hope Farm can be a funny place……and I love telling you all about it!