I have found myself in a myriad of emotions this week. Anger, elation, melancholy, and apathy. I started the week the way it normally starts….work. It seems that somedays, everything there….every person can push every button I have and summon up such a rage inside me, that each time it rises, is the worst I have felt. Then there is the melancholy that comes sometimes with just dealing with everyday issues….bills coming due, little past remembrances that can creep in. Apathy….now I will admit, I do not feel this very often. I am normally a raging heap of emotions….a large rubberband ball of raw emotion….but this week, I was to the point that I disconnected so quickly (and it was quite evident, by the way) that people asked if I was still in this large gelatinous form I call a body. Of course, there is my favorite of all these emotions…..elation. The uncontained euphoria of hearing that my partner had come through his ear surgery beautifully and that the surgeon was optimistic that he would regain most of his hearing.
Now, this week was submersed in the details of the ear surgery. There was the anticipation of the positive results, but there was also the dread that the hearing would not improve and that total deafness in that ear would be the end result. We talked….a lot. We talked about possibilities and fears and we made promises and laughed about how silly we were being too.
All of this emotion surrounding one of the five senses made my brain go into overdrive. What would I be without one of those senses? Where would I have to make adjustments? How good of a listener am I, really?
Today was the first full day after the surgery. I spent the rest of yesterday worrying about whether he would bend over wrong….strain….move the wrong way….do something that would destroy the positive results forever. He was drugged up and feeling pretty good, so he really didn’t give a rip. I constantly asked him, “What does it sound like? How does it feel?” Questions and Loritabs don’t really mix well. I was told to stop and let him sleep.
This morning, I woke up tired. I tossed and turned all night long listening for any signs of pain or discomfort. Of course, at an especially early hour, I hear whines coming from the kennel at the foot of the bed. The dogs want to be fed and walked. Bella was content with eating, pooping and then going right back to sleep. Friz on the other hand expected more. It was a comfortable temperature out, the sun was shining. He was pulling me with all the force a chihuahua could muster toward the pond.
Friz and I settled in beside the old oak tree. I closed my eyes and for the first time in a long time…..I just listened. I could hear my breath coming in shorter bursts at first because of the exertion of the walk. Then I listened as it lengthened….became softer, easier, calmer. I listened to Friz’ panting. Heavy at first….then gently relaxing. I could hear him twisting his body to fit my lap….could hear his breathing become heavier and then dissolve into soft snores.
I heard a familiar sound approaching us from the wooded area behind us. It was a soft padding catching the leaves that were left from fall and winter and the taller grasses as it came closer. I could hear a loud purr roar forth from an old fae cat that hadn’t seen us in what seemed like ages. I listened as he cuddled into Friz and the sound of a small motorboat was roaring forth from his insides. I heard so many sounds around me that I would typically ignore just because it didn’t directly effect me. There were sounds that made my imagination dance. I just knew I could hear the fae playing hide and seek around me…..the flit of wings and tiny little giggles.
My brain raced into technicolor visions of creatures that I have longed to see and look eyeball to eyeball with. Every splash I heard in the pond water was not just that boring old bullfrog that I have seen time and again….but a beautiful mermaid or merman splashing about. That breeze that I could hear swooshing around my ears was the aftermath of a low-flying dragon. Oh the joy that was stirred up in me…..just from listening harder than I have ever listened before.
As I sat there with visions and sounds rushing around me, I quieted my spirit enough to whisper, “Lord and Lady, take this time, in my silence to teach me.” I listened harder. If my ears could have bled from the strain of listening, this would be that time. What was I waiting to hear? A thunder clap? The roar of a hurricane? A tidal wave? It must be something that is going to be huge….ginormous….something fantastical! The longer I sat there, though, the quieter it seemed to get. The wind had become still. The splashing had stopped. My spirit, however, did quicken. I felt an excitement…a wonderful stirring. And then, it was like I heard a whisper. It was a whisper that seemed to echo with the divine masculine and the divine feminine. “In your stillness, in your silence, you are learning. You are learning of the kisses and caresses of the wind. You are learning of the laughter of the water. You are learning of the joy and warmth of fire through the sun….but most importantly, you are learning to hear the heartbeat of mother earth. It is in your connection with each of these elements that you learn from and connect deeper to the Lord and Lady. Our spirit becomes a part of your spirit. You know us as well as you know yourself.”
I breathed in deeply. It was almost as if I was taking in my first breath. Not only did my hearing seem sharper…..but every sense seemed more alive and hyper-sensitive. I inhaled deep and caught a faint scent of jasmine penetrate my nostils. I shifted my weight and it was as if every grassblade underneath me became evident….nature’s carpet. It was almost as if I could taste the wind on my tongue. Finally as I opened my eyes, I could see everything glowing in the light of the sunshine.
The one thing I have learned about myself over the years is that I can be a little thick…not the brightest crayon in the box. Nature has found a way to show me the things I miss from time to time. I have often told my friends that Friz is one of those dogs that ‘doesn’t have the sense to come in out of the rain.’ Now I am beginning to think that I was the one all along with no sense. When I watch that little dog in a rainstorm, he turns his little nose into the air and sniffs just as hard and fast as he can sniff. He doesn’t stop to worry about the fact that he is getting wet. He is living for that moment….that second…and with that moment comes all the smells that rain brings out.
Today we had a rainstorm. Of course, Friz had to go out at that exact moment. The only difference was that this time, I was standing right there beside him…nose raised in the air, sniffing as hard and fast as I could. It smelled fresh….it smelled new…..just like another new beginning.