A Little Heaven on Earth...

Peace in stillness. I’m sitting here, on the river, smoking a cigarette…a cigarette I’m trying to convince myself I need to quit. I started the day feeling refreshed and ready to go, but a 14 hour shift later and I’m craving some tranquility. Stars are hanging over me and the Sun River is flowing at it’s own languid pace. It’s 1:30 in the morning and I think even the Canadian geese are sleeping until I hear a lazy honk. It’s finally starting to feel like summer after an isolating frigid spring…not because of the erratic Montana temperatures but because of the COVID restrictions. Lost in thought until a blast from a nearby train…realizing all is right in my world.

I couldn’t imagine feeling this peace two years ago. I knew nature was my happy place, and I clung desperately to it, a habit I never want to undo. The moon’s glow brings me peace I can’t find anywhere else.

I still have so many questions about where I should steer this ship of my life in the future. Holistic healing has been the only gentle, resounding affirmation that feels right, but I have no idea of how to go about it.

My shift at the jail today…the yelling and screaming of H block. So much mental and emotional anguish manifested in physical anxiety. Doing my best to exude calming, healing vibes yet feeling myself absorbing the negative energy. Clocking out and thinking of needing a drink or a dozen to calm my nerves. Three glasses of wine later, all I want is to be barefoot in the grass…so I make my way to the river, feeling the grass underneath my bare feet and the nervous hum beneath my skin dissipating into the ground, my anxiety draining away.

Feeling happy…I finally received the clothes I ordered last March while I was home sick with a cold, right when we went into lockdown. It was just a virus because we had run out of PPE and I had to take care of a patient with a cough with no mask. Luckily it wasn’t COVID, but I wasn’t able to work because of the fever. My loving stepmom left my front door with bags and bags of groceries. I can’t help but think of that weird, weird St Patrick’s Day where we couldn’t celebrate in crowds and instead the Dropkick Murphy’s held a free online concert and the world watched together anyway. My thoughts are running in lazy circles as I relax, feeling grateful for bands that care more for their fans than getting paid and stepmoms who still choose to love you even when you’ve tested them through hell and back because you’re so sure she’ll probably leave too. Grateful for clothes that fit right and match my gypsy wandering soul.

Relishing this life I’m creating for myself. Realizing tonight that after 20 years of driving I’m finally becoming comfortable with driving on the highway…I’ve always been the passenger, a boyfriend or husband at the wheel. Learning this life of being single as I go, and realizing being single means I can make my apartment any way I want. If I want white string lights up in my living room and bedroom, I buy them and make it happen. So what if they look like they belong in a dorm room. This place is my own, my sanctuary…mine. Something I’ve never experienced before.

Looking up, these sweet stars are there as always, guiding me home. The same stars that gave me hope three years ago, and twenty years ago…as I looked out the back window of my parents’ car, driving down Main Street in Shelby, praying for a best friend, and being so thankful to have this prayer met a few months later when I met a beautiful soul named Cori my first day at a brand new school. Some stars might come and go, but many are still here and this is the same moon Galileo and my ancestors looked up at…a gentle reminder that I will come and go, and to make the best of this life as I live it.

I realize my next tattoo will be Amor Supra Omnia—Latin for “Love Above All”. That I choose my spirituality to be one of love, of myself and everyone else I meet. That I won’t, as a prison nurse, judge anyone based on their past, even if it means they’re convicted criminals of heinous crimes. I don’t know their past or what horrors they’ve lived through. I just pray I can be a beacon of light and give hope to everyone I encounter. To spread positivity in a world so full of negative energy.

God, use me. Show me my next steps. Where do you want me to go from here? I know I’m where I’m meant to be for the present, but if there is something I should be doing to prepare for the future, light my way. Until then, I’ll rest in stillness and gratitude.

I haven’t been this joyful and peaceful until now. So I’ll just rest and be thankful until I wake up at 3am with an instinctive knowing of what I need to do next, or some other sign that conveys to my soul that yes, this is the way.

A sweet hymn from my middle school Lutheran confirmation class (that I went with because my sweet friend Cori was going) floats through my memory. ….With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living vessel for you…prepare me to be sanctuary pure and holy, tried and true…..Use me, guide me, show me.

Reading Paulo Coelho’s book, The Witch of Portobello. Underlining so many passages that speak to my soul. I recognize her wandering, searching spirit. Realizing we don’t understand the effects we have on others as we try to make our own way through the world. Yet by following our own path, we inspire others to do the same. So thankful for Paulo Coelho.

How liberating to decide to defy labels…political, religious, societal, and most painfully, familial. To turn inward and resolve to only follow what truly resonates for my soul. One of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but one of the most liberating. A life lived based on everyone else’s terms but my own is a life feebly lived. We’re meant for so much more. Following my own inner truth and moral compass, showing my loved ones through actions instead of words that I will be all right, that I am all right as I set out on my own path…

I want to keep exploring, keep learning, keep sharing.