I called this tree the Fortitude Oak, because it stretched out over the roadside pullout in such a way as to suggest vast power and inner knowing.
It's good that I drew it when I did, for now it is only a memory when I drive past. It was a casualty of the fire that came through the canyon, weakening it so that it broke in the winds over the winter. Now, the drawing is the expression of what the tree meant to me.
This tree reminds me of times when standing firm was the only option.
As I learned what it was to be a mother and a pioneer, growing food, living with only the most basic necessities, a lot of my former ideas about life faded away, and I lived from one day to the next, with most days following a rhythm that went like this:
Wake up, light a fire, look after the children. Make food, get them dressed, find out what else they need.
Milk the goats, feed the chickens, gather the eggs. Go out into the garden and plant, weed, water, or whatever else was needed. Maybe cut firewood, maybe not. Lunchtime. Make food. Clean the house. Do the laundry, start making dinner. If there is time, do something creative like make clothing.
The family shows up, and instead of saying "Hi Mom!" they ask, "What's for dinner?" Can't blame them for that, they were hungry.
Have dinner, clear the table. Talk about what needs to be done next, or answer to some concern of a family member.
Wash up, get ready for bed. Repeat.
Time for creative activities was almost nonexistent at first. Who I was, as a person, never came up! It was enough to just keep things going.
Gradually I learned to find moments, bits and pieces of time, when I could make something, or write something. Poems sometimes appeared in my mind, and I would scramble to write them down before they disappeared.
Every once in a while I could write out a few pages of something that I felt I needed to express, even though nobody was reading it. I kept my faith in my heart, and listened to the voices of nature telling me to keep going.
As this life continued, year after year, I got better at managing my time. Things started to open up as the kids didn't need me quite so much. They were getting more independent, and although I was still important to them, it was clear that life was going to keep on shifting. Little by little, things were getting a bit easier. It was slow going!
Just when I was saying "Does this go on forever?" I found that it was almost over. Larger chunks of time were appearing, and the needs of my family changed.
I became able to start small businesses. First it was selling eggs and small crafts; then selling cheese, and somewhat larger crafts, then honey was added to the list. Bit by bit, I became more able to reclaim my identity as a person and not just a service provider.
I got into fashion expression, making lovely items that I was very proud to present to the world. My idea of what I could do with my life grew.
It became possible to find new avenues of expression, and I got back into writing. Eventually, I wrote my book "Prevail" and found a sense of mission, as I realized my experiences had value beyond my own life, and found ways to express that realization, that they could be useful to others in making their own lives better.
The journey for meaning and creative expression continues now, as I am able to offer support for writers. I am so grateful for the light that I guarded and kept within me, and for the way that it is growing now. I cherish every bit of what I learned along the way, no matter how I learned it.
Do you want to find more time for your creative expression?
Learn how to build creativity into your day in a completely natural way, that supports the life you already have.
May your path always be lit!
Best wishes,
Betty
