When was the last time you laid in the grass and watched the clouds float by? Or sat quietly by your window just to watch the birds or the trees? When was the last time you recognized the miracle of your (hopefully) growing houseplant? Silly, I know, but how great is nature when you really think about it? It’s everywhere! It provides us with the air we breathe, the food we eat, and the serenity we need if we let it. Sometimes the best act of self love is simply letting nature to do its thing and allowing its grace to bring us peace and healing in its own way. Stargazing does that for me and (*bonus*) it doesn’t cost me a penny.
For those of you who may struggle experiencing nature firsthand, this video is a very suitable substitute. Enjoy!
Have you ever had one of those friends you could go weeks, months, or years without seeing or talking to, but when you’re reunited it’s like time never happened? That was Sam.
Samantha and I grew up together, from Girl Scouts, through young adulthood and beyond, she was there for me. She introduced me to my love of the Dr. Mario video game, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and late night movies (even though she always fell asleep before the end). She taught me that it was okay to like country music, watch NASCAR, and stand up for what you believe in despite what others may think of you (to a middle school girl trying to fit in, this was crazy talk!).
We spent countless nights laughing until our faces hurt trying to navigate our lives the best we could. In our minds, we had forever to explore the world and live our dreams for the future together as friends.
I trusted and admired her with my whole being. Through the bullies and joys, heartbreaks and triumphs, we were there for each other, always. I could always count on her.
I couldn’t hold back my excitement (or tears) when Sam married the love of her life in the sweetest backyard ceremony. I saw the mutual love and respect they had for each other as they gazed into each other’s eyes that day. They didn’t need it all, they just needed each other and that was enough. Sam’s husband and his children loved her the way she deserved to be loved, and gave her the greatest gift: becoming a wife and mother. I’ll never be able to put into words what that meant to me and how thankful I was, especially now.
In the early morning hours of March 22, 2020, Sam passed away peacefully in her sleep. When I got the call, it felt like my heart was ripped from my chest. The phone slipped from my hand and I wept, uncontrollably. I begged for it not to be true as I tried to understand this new reality. I felt completely and utterly alone. Like she knew, my sweet pup let me cry into her fur until I couldn’t anymore. I wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to one of the truest friends I’d ever know. But then again, who really is?
Sam was such a sweet, beautiful soul. She was caring, grounded, loyal, strong, smart, spunky, loving, outgoing, charismatic, trustworthy, honest, and so much more. She knew how to make me laugh with her personality and wit. Her baking was out of this world (I don’t think I’ll ever have a gluten-free cupcake as good as hers). Her smile lit up rooms and warmed the hearts of those she met. She always put others before herself and loved openly and unconditionally, and I was lucky enough to call her my friend.
Right now, I’m not afforded the physical comfort of being surrounded by those who loved Sam (thanks COVID-19). Because of this, I felt that the universe was not only forcing me to say goodbye too soon, but to also process such tragedy on my own. It took me some time to realize that although I felt alone, I was never mourning alone. My mourning heart becomes closer to others as we relish over the memories, photos, and conversations we not only shared with Sam, but with each other now as we remember her spirit.
People can be so wonderfully supportive when hearts are heavy and minds are weary.
I truly believe that Sam is closer to each of us now than ever before. I believe this because I can feel her beating in my chest when I need to be brave, and in the text messages and phone calls offering a safe space to expel the drowning emotions that come with loss.
My heart, thoughts, and prayers are with Sam’s family; her parents, brother and sister-in-law, her husband and step-children, her grandmother, the numerous aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and her animals that she loved so much. They all mean so much to me, and I won’t ever truly understand what they are going through. Sam left emptiness in her wake, and I hope that, as her mother stated, “we can draw on [her] strength to help us learn to carry on” without her. Thank you, all, for letting me have Sam in my world. It will never be the same, but it is better because she was in it.
Thank you, Sam, for being my friend. I wish I could hug you one more time. Until I see you again, I’m loving you always.
The shared family barn is also home to a dozen or so fretful laying hens and a vocal rooster. They are free-range, so they confidently come and go wherever they please, including Gordon’s stall.
Usually, I’m annoyed when I find chickens in or around Gordon’s stall. They somehow always find themselves underfoot, and find really inconvenient places to defecate. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has slipped or has deep-cleaned water buckets because of something similar.
But today, as I chased a hen out of Gordon’s stall, I noticed that she left a different kind of gift.
Pardon the terrible barn lighting, but it was too good not to share!
Nestled in the corner of Gordon’s stall, on a thick bed of wood shavings, sat a smooth, perfect, egg. I picked up the egg and studied it; I was a bit in shock and awe. This hen was brave enough to lay an egg in a stall shared with an animal 1,000 times its size, and I was fortunate enough to find the egg before it was destroyed. As silly as it sounds, I felt like I needed to take a moment to acknowledge and thank the hen for this small but significant offering. I felt that this small gift, even if given unknowingly, was a peace offering, peace between my sometimes trying relationship with the chickens, but also peace in my own mind that everything is going to be fine. I will get through the unknown the world is facing.
At first, I visualized breathing space as the places where I take my biggest breaths, filling my lungs with fresh air and peace. Nature, bodies of water, and wide open spaces with endless skies have always given me relief and a sense of freedom. I crave being surrounded by the beauty of nature, and the space to take it all in.
According to Merriam-Webster, breathing space is defined as, “some time in which to recover, get organized, or get going.” It is also be referred to as breathing room or breathing spell.
According to Cambridge Dictionary, breathing space is defined as, “a period of rest in order to increase strength or give you more time to think about what to do next.”
Now, breathing space, to me, is taking pause; intentionally taking space to reset mentally, physically, and emotionally. I’m taking my personal breathing space to rediscover myself and what’s important to me, and realign my life to complement my values.
It wasn’t until I was laid off that I realized how badly I needed space to breathe.
I knew I wanted the title of this blog to be meaningful, but I was struggling to see the whole picture. I don’t feel like I found this phrase by chance. Was it fate? Is the universe telling me that this blog is really what I need right now? I can’t wait to find out.
personal breathing space 