All posts by Terra

A Soul Coach and Creator, inspired by the greater good for all.
feasts, resilience

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Today I said the words “Maybe I won’t be a Chef anymore”.

I’ve never said that before. What struck me even more than the words themselves was that I was comfortable with them. I wasn’t experiencing the same sensations I was getting when I tried to picture going back to the kitchen, planning an event, building a recipe. The thought of doing these once innate skills suddenly brought on feelings of dread, anxiety, tension and stress. But none of that happened when I made that comment.

This is my career, my passion. A lifelong joy, dedication and decades of hard work. Then suddenly it’s not. It was gone quickly after the death of my husband. I’ve slowly been putting myself into work, but I’m not getting the same gratification from it. Food doesn’t really look good or taste good or inspire me. It’s important to do the job right, make my customers happy, never let them down; but what I get in return is not what it used to be. And that sucks. It’s really messing with my head.

And then I made that comment to my therapist. And it felt ok, it was ok. There are several theories as to why my grief has created this barrier for my return to work. Is it because work was an escape and I no longer need an escape? Is it because I have already decided I can’t go back to my “old’ life and that was part of it? Or maybe it is just the universe keeping me on a new path. I have long known I don’t have the hands for many  more years in production; but suddenly I don’t have the head or the heart.

That became clear when I took the bandages off after trigger finger surgery. Because I was losing his insurance, I had to expedite the surgery planned for later in the year to shortly after his passing. The visible wound finally “healed” but I was not able to do what I used to. That’s when I realized it wasn’t just the hand. Without the head you can’t run a kitchen, it’s a multi-tasking skill of planning and timing; I’m functioning on a single task mindset. Without the heart the food falls flat, it has no passion or character; there is a difference, you really can taste the love.

Then, there is the issue of my muted taste buds. I have not had a properly functioning palate in months and let me tell you, it is a cruel hell on earth for a Chef to lose their taste. I believe it is a situational manifestation of my current situation…. and not permanent. Fingers crossed.

When I take a step back and realize I presently can’t taste food well, am not physically able to cook well, don’t “feel” like doing it and don’t see myself doing it; then maybe I have to acknowledge there’s a reason for that. Maybe, if I allow myself to make that a possibility, then new opportunities will open themselves up to me. I don’t feel like I have to walk away from everything I’ve created, I just know I can’t go back to what it was.

Recreating myself, my career, my business, my family, my future, my home, my habits… will take time. It’s all in transition and interwoven with grief and trauma. I’m just kind of a mess right now, even while getting the best care and love anyone could ask for. It seems to me the wisest things I can do for myself is to let it happen with an open mind, an open heart and honesty. And get good sleep.

Whatever I end up doing it’s just part of my new life. I don’t need to understand the hows and whys to see the signs telling me that what is coming is better than anything before; with effort, patience and time I will reap the good stuff.

Kind of like Artichokes and Abalone.

raves, resilience

Short Trip, Long Ride

A big day in many ways.

Ultimately I let go of Zippi-T (my sweet little Mazda) and his memory loaded truck to bring home my new car, for the road ahead.

The journey there however was not easy. I had two cars to trade in so I drove the truck and a friend took my car. Moments after pulling out of the driveway it hit me. Hard. A massive guttural sobbing surge.

I had this overwhelming sensation of the warmth of his hands on his steering wheel. So I said bring it on and put on the music I knew would take me through.

Fucking A it was a gnarly 45 minutes. It was an unexpected hardcore goodbye. I was breathless. It was a fitting tribute considering the headbanging metal beasts Jason and the truck were… together.

I made a pit stop for a needed hug from my sister-in-law and pulled my shit together; then headed to the dealership a few blocks away. They were expecting me and welcomed me with warm cocoa and calm. I was able to proceed with the task and I’m sure he would have been proud of my negotiations.

keys to an old life
I’m glad to have the cars gone, now I have a new ride for a new journey
(and lower insurance payments).
I’m grateful for the weeping, it’s just what I had to do. I’m starting to grasp the fact that it’s gonna keep happening.
Get ready indeed, I’m exhausted.

I have to give a big shoutout to Honda of Marysville for making the process as seamless and supportive as possible. They were informed, prepared, flexible and considerate. It was just as it was supposed to be. The ride home was smooth.

After all that, when I settled in for the evening, I wrote this;

Four-Wheel Farewell

He held my hands

I could feel his warmth

we gripped the steering wheel together.

A final ride,

a long goodbye,

I have been forsaken.

Wheels roll on

like years now gone

leading me on a new journey.

The song fueled tears

leave me gasping

and breathless.

 I’m Cruising down the road

feeling reckless;

because you’re here

with me.

Again.

Wheels roll on

like years now gone

leading me on a new journey.

The ride is over,

the end is here,

there is no more road to travel.

For us.

From here on out

I’ve got to work it out

in my own way.

Wheels roll on

like years now gone

leading me on a new journey.

Because of you,

I’m being true to me.

Maybe for the first time.

Goodbye my love.

We’re free.

rants, resilience

Countdown

A cashier said to me “It’ll just be a second” and I nearly lost my cool. Who am I kidding, I wasn’t cool at all. I was in the midst of my first panic attack. Ever. At the drug store counter, just days after my husband took his own life. I barely got a word out as my system was going into overdrive; inside my head I was screaming at her “don’t fucking tell me to wait a second… a second can change everything!”

Jason’s life was gone in a second.

My whole world was upside down in a second.

But, it took billions of seconds to get to that point.

Which one really made the difference?

Was it the second he decided as teenager to cope by sneaking into someones stash and self-medicating his woes for the first time?

Perhaps it was the second he decided he wasn’t worth the effort to try another way to feel better.

Or the second he decided if it was good enough for his dad, death was good enough for him.

He decided to leave millions of seconds before he actually lived his last one on earth.

He was tired of counting them, so he took time in his own hands.

Now, I can only love him for all of mine.

#fucksuicide #fuckdepression #fuckaddiction

he loved the water

 

resilience

Unsettled

Image

Looking at the pictures
from yesterday’s graveside
I realize that even the soil
hasn’t settled
from the turmoil of burying Jason.
Time is too quick or too slow;
either way
not nearly enough has passed.
I’m certain I am more complex than dirt.

 Jason and Terra
resilience

Breakthrough

A few days ago I made a decision.
If I am choosing to be a new me
then I’m going to be
someone who doesn’t mind
exercise
or housekeeping.
Why not.
This morning I found myself
walking through the house
trying to find the clean laundry basket
to put on a shirt.
Turns out I already put the clothes away.
I’ll consider that progress.

breakthrough

resilience, respite

In the Moment

Today was a good day.

There I said it.

Out loud.

And it’s ok.

Mind you, the bar is low…

I slept well.

I had great coffee and friends to talk to, a delicious pumpkin muffin and a pretty pedicure.

I bought a soda from a cafe…
by myself …
and did not get increased heartrate, shortness of breath, anxious creepers or a soft voice.

Actually, I had a voice today, with some volume.

I’m off the meds and coming back down to earth.

I have to give it up to the universe and the people around me; both near and far. All of you. I’m merely tuning into the right channel. The music and energy of last night has lifted my day.

The compassion and skill that Dr. Katy K. has shown me has made all the difference in the world. I went to her office for wellness and she delivered. Naturally.

Maybe I’ll have another good one tomorrow!

Zen Cat

 

 

activist girl

Steady, Aim, Fire

The last time I watched the news Jason and I were watching the hurricane over Florida. So saying I’m out of the loop is an understatement. I will say not being in the loop is a pleasant thing. I understand the benefits of keeping your head in the sand. But you can’t stay there.

The immediate angst and stress that overcomes me with any of the BS is too much. Everyday, but especially now. But the winds blow information and I have some ideas of the tragedies of late.

I find myself connecting with the tether of grief that stretches across the country and its too much. I can’t help but think how those people will deal with life now.

Do they have a chance to figure it out or if they don’t go to work tomorrow will they lose their job, their home, their health? I could have, if not for the kindness of friends and strangers. It’s something I haven’t thought before and it weighs heavy in my mind.

But… I have something to say about the #nra once again defending any act to protect a “right” to be armed and this mystery shooter.

You cannot use logic to solve the illogical. You cannot use reason to answer the unreasonable. You simply cannot fathom the unfathomable. From suicide to terrorism; you can never know the inner workings of another human if they don’t want you to and if in order to understand you have to enter those dark places, don’t. Many don’t survive those dark places. Knowing everything isn’t everything.

What you CAN do is recognize that the nra is an organization that thrives on you believing your weapons are at risk. What you CAN do is understand the policies are what they are because the people who support this organization are voted in time and again because they lobby under fear of losing your guns. Those politicians push through the legislation written by the NRA because they all have something to gain by it. Follow the money folks.

If the NRA cared about gun rights, they would make sure people used them safely. They would make sure those people that damaged the industries name and intent paid for their crimes against humanity. They would protest murder of innocent victims and shame the action. Instead, there’s been a boost in sales because people are worried their guns will be taken away.

The ONLY thing you can do is educate your circle of influence to vote these lobbying agencies and fear mongering corporate funded politicians OUT. STOP VOTING SOLELY ON PARTY, there’s too much corruption.

Congress is currently focusing on removing rights from women (because they care about the sanctity of life) while letting millions starve in Puerto Rico (because they owe money?). That is the agenda of the day I believe.

They defend THIS ONE right, arms, beyond all others; one that historically destroys, yet they take away five others that can heal. Let’s be real, it’s been more than 5 this year.

Despite all that is going on, they are insisting that ANOTHER massacre of citizens by a white American terrorist does not warrant a sensible discussion on safe gun legislation. If he was ethnic it would be about keeping those people out. Right? Does that seem reasonable to you? Are they representing YOUR priorities?

You’re fighting the wrong people. Congress wont do anything. These politicians are dying on the vine. Let them wither, replace them wisely. If there’s one thing we’ve learned this year, it’s that we don’t need our leaders to make changes that WE as a nation want. WE have enough power to force actions through other means. Generally monetary.

Cancel your membership with the NRA. Write your gun manufacturers to force it. Walmart changed the nation with its influence, for good and bad. Put the pressure on the industry. Vote for safe gun use and national sales tracking of arms AND AMMO. Just because someone has no record and no history doesn’t mean anything. And just because they do, doesn’t either. There’s another way.

Personally, I think guns are not worth much without the bullets. Want to fire that gun? Sorry bullets are under lock and key, we’ll need information and money to give you one. ONE. I remember the shooting lesson if you can’t do it in one shot you’re not doing it right. Need 500 bullets? I disagree. Sorry, you don’t.

Justice must be served; those that did it, defend it and legislate ways for it happen again must be stopped. Im just so furious these people who call themselves leaders continue to put our citizens in grave harm. ALL OF US. I hope you are too.

Let’s do something about it, even if it’s just talk. But not today, I’m wiped out now.

Justice

resilience

Pause

“Get back to normal” is something I hear.
I understand what they mean.
My normal was not like most though.
My normal, I could only hope, was not yours.
Not that it was all bad, because nothing can be.
It’s that I don’t think it was normal;
in any way other than to say there is no normal,
so in that sense, sure,
it’s normal.
But I don’t want to go back to it.
Being outside of it is the light at the end of a long dark tunnel.
Finding a new normal is the way of the day.
Not cloaked in darkness any longer,
the darkness was not mine.
Right now my normal is a breath of air,
a kiss of wind,
a drop of rain,
a hug from a friend,
a paw in my lap.
This is where I will be for awhile,
I am in no rush to get anywhere else.

rebel