Day #11: Sunday Sunday

 

 

She looked straight at us and spread her wings.  I wasn't quick enough to get that initial spread.  She was gorgeous, really big and it was a grey background on a Sunday afternoon.  Everything is reminding me of songs today.

I'm wavering back and forth between talking about issues that are impacting my book and just keeping the focus of the blog on the 365 Day Project and the beauty in our world.  It's been kind of difficult to talk about beauty in the past couple of weeks, but that is exactly why I wanted to do it.   I don't want to wipe away the difficult stuff, I just want to have both in the forefront.  All day I have been mulling over in my mind whether or not this blog is a good venue for me to state what I'm thinking about in the world of adoption and using it as a platform, or to keep it more open than that.

For example, one thing that I have been thinking a lot about in the past week is the need for therapists specializing in adoption.  There are some, but not enough around the country and not enough where there is poverty and a big need for it.  Humans sometimes have an inability to separate the things they need to accept responsibility for and things they need to let go of.  They need to be able to make sense of some of the boundary issues in our lives, and if they are also suffering from PTSD, they need real help doing that.  Women are taking responsibility for things they clearly had no power over and not accepting responsibility for their own stuff such as drug behavior.  Again, the addition of substances on top of the PTSD is both understandable and increases the complexity by 10.  I think I stated when I first started this blog in the summer that I was amazed at the loose anger that fills the field.  I still am amazed, but I'm also profoundly unhappy about how little help there is for original mothers to cope with grief and loss.  There are people doing the work, believe me, I know and respect it, but not enough of it is being picked up.  We have to continue to support our peers to go into the field. 

 I am starting a support group in the area for original moms with a fellow mom here in Franklin County this month.  I'm excited about it and have searched out advice from people who have been doing it for awhile.  People have been very generous with their time and ideas.   I really appreciate it.  If you are in the area and interested in joining us, please feel free to message me.  We are anxious and excited to meet you.

As for hawks on Sunday afternoon, they bring messages.  This one wasn't ready to give us her message, yet.  I am also not sure for whom the message was meant.  I think me, because she appeared in my view long before the others saw her, but who knows.  Her back was black and white modeled.  I thought she was a redtail, but Emma thinks she was some other kind of hawk.  She maybe right, there was no red tail.

I'd love it if people who are reading daily would hit the follow button so I had an idea of how many people are coming back.  I'd also love it if people responded or asked questions or told me what they'd like to hear about.  Let me know.  I seem to have 6 followers in France.  That is cool; who are you, tell us a little about yourself.   

I am going to start a link page this coming week.  If you have any suggestions, let me know.  Anyway, thanks for your support, I am really appreciative.  Also anyone interested in seeing more of my photography or  who might be interested in acquiring something, if you go to fineartsamerica.com you can find LIndy Whiton (actually if you Google image me you'll get Fine Arts of America first).  Or message me and let me know what you might be interested in.  

Day #10: Found Beauty Today

Finding beauty was easy today.  The sun was strong.  The sky was really blue and around 2 shadows were popping up all over the place and taking pictures in a valley filled with water.  This made the task easy.  Oh I am so happy I live in this valley and that I am surrounded by so many rivers and streams.  Even in the dead of winter they surround you with amazing sights. 

I actually took a few shots that I really love, but I am trying to only post one a day this time through. In 2010 I had a really hard time limiting myself to one on my blog.  But later I managed to limit it to one per day and that's what I have saved on my supposed working manuscript that I thought would have been out into the world awhile ago.  But printing 365 pictures and some text is a mighty big expense, so it has not happened yet. 

When you were a kid did you use birch or aspen bark as paper?  I used to play house in the woods with different friends  next to our home .  We would use bark as paper and write each other notes.  We used berries for make believe food and created fake soup out of stuff all around us.  I had a place I thought was only known by me that I would go to.  I must have been around 11 or so.  I had a jar buried in the ground surrounded by ferns.  I don't know what kind of fern they were, but I loved sitting there and writing and then placing what I wrote in my jar and reburying it.  I've often wondered if that jar remained and if it was found when that piece of property got sold off into lots and many houses built on it.  What did my notes say to me?  I don't remember, I just remember having that space.  I think I dream of it sometimes, or I dream of finding my way home from it. And how long do you think lead markings last on birch bark?

Day #9: Bringing Me Back To The Source

Picture #9

The broken Maple tree tries to stay strong as parts of her fall off in the wind and snow.  She's tired and probably deserves a rest, but instead she's left to deteriorate piece at a time.  She is still home to several birds and squirrels and she feeds a lot of winged animals.  She's still producing sap.  She still greets me every morning. 

My old friend Ken passed away yesterday.  Funny how it took me right back into the center of my adoption story, right back into the dysfunction of a beautiful family.  And what I realized is his smile represents a touch of health within a hard time of life; a bit of a fourteen year old crush amongst a whole lot of grown up play.   I have been a true original Mom today, stuck in a level of grief that skims the top of my heart.  R.I.P. Kenny.

I am not posting more tonight.    Sweet dreams, you all.

Day #8: getting better organized

Earlier this week I described my life as being in the middle of a “beam up;” that Scotty had started the process of beaming me up and I hadn’t been put back together molecularly.  I feel as though all of the elements are there floating around in circles, orbiting around each other but not congealing, not organizing themselves back into a whole.

But today, after some interaction with good listeners, I feel a little more organized, a little more put together.  I may actually have a timeline for the book and some actual goals to work towards on a short term basis.  This is a relief. 

“Refuge In Grief”   quote today was…

The important thing is to not allow yourself to be drawn into battle. Your grief is not an argument. It doesn't need to be defended.It's awkward at first, but clarifying your boundaries and redirecting the conversation will become a lot easier the more you practice it.

This is such a hard lesson to learn, our inabilities to see this maintains our own victimhood,  keeps us from being able to move through the trauma and to accept grief as part of our wholes.  I like this site; it’s a good FB page to like because it often posts affirmations that really ring true.  I highly recommend it for anyone who struggles with long term grief.  It has been very helpful.

The other thing I did today was go the Bookmill and write.  I think I’m going to make it my new writing/reading space.  It is so positive there; it is open and full of light and water is running.  Even with the ice floes forming the power of water is palpable.  It feeds me and helps both with concentration and creativity.

 

Here is today’s photo, I actually spied a bald eagle and took a couple pictures of him soaring above the river.  But he is not my pick of the day.  My pick is of a touch of color on a very cold day.

 

Two new links.
Lhttp://www.blogger.com/blog-this.g
Life of Von.com  

Day #7: One Week

I learned a couple things today.  The first thing is that when it is really cold out, 7 degrees when I left the house this morning, it is best to bring your camera in the early a.m. because the shots, the potential A+ pictures exist early in the morning with all that crystal action happening.  But instead I left late for an acupuncture appointment and was in a hurry and just had to see all those shots go by.  Emma thinks that is good for me, that I don't have to document everything.  But it is hard to let go when you are  taking a picture every day for a specific purpose.

Second thing I learned is our memories are not extremely good editors.  We edit the past, shrink it to make more room for more memories, you know like a zip drive or something, but unfortunately when you go to recall the memory it does not come back out whole.  Oh well.  Maybe this is good, maybe this saves us from a lot of extra emotions.

By the time I got back to my camera, the sun was already setting.  There was supposed to be something exciting happening in the Southern Sky at 5 or so, but it was too cold to go set up a tripod somewhere, so you all have to settle for the first Selfie of the year.  (notice elephant incense burner in the background.) 

Again I am not sure how much I want to write about in this project; how much do I want to focus on actual events of the day that make up my balance or make up the journey of writing this book.  Today I was completely sidetracked.  I dug through old photographs to find some of my old friend who is dying.  I found my album that covers 1966-1969.  I did find pictures of Ken, and I did spend a little time in memoryville.  YUCK.  I am glad I made it through and I am happy for many of the people that were in my life at the time, but boy was I not a happy teenager. 

So tomorrow is another cold day, maybe I will get up early and photograph the crystals.  I am going out noontime and I am going to a picturesque place so tomorrows photos will at least be more interesting.  Meanwhile, my research continues.  I am still looking for some Moms to interview.  And I will make reservations to a conference in March in Boston tomorrow.

Enough, sleep tight.  And remember only 51 more weeks to go.

Ken Ziem, 1968, Wilton, CT

 

Day #6: Finding What I Need

 

 

 

 

 

 

 I stayed up late last night and tried to find a place or a time to shoot the moon.  By the time I did, it was January 6^th and no longer useful for yesterday.  None of the shots were good enough to use as my Day 6 shot though.  And what I am sharing is of Emma, which had to happen sooner or later.  Here she sits drawing, composed in thought.  She is balance for me, although sometimes I’m not sure why.  I do take a lot of pictures of her and she was Day 6 five years ago, too.

Tuesday nights will be difficult to post on because it is my writing workshop night.  Sometimes I will write something appropriate to post and other times a photo will have to do.  Tonight you get my little narrative about my post  and a beginning list of interesting blogs and links to adoption sites.   This is a true integration of all my missions squished together.  Forgive me, it is how my mind works; one continual spirally snail shell.

Sidetracked…. One of the first things I learned about Jean Piaget was that he and Beatrice Potter studied the mollusk shell together to explore thought. 

This is by no means a complete list of resources.  I think what I will do is just add onto it as I go along.  There are two really good lists that you can find immediately.

1.   A list of resources is in Musing of the Lame, Claudia Corrigan D’Arcy’s blog  www.Musingofthelame.com

2.   An interesting list is of novels and books on all aspects of adoption by Suzanne Gilbert.  The list is a facebook page titled Orphans, Adoptees and Birth Searcher fiction.  Suzanne keeps an ongoing list of fiction with some reviews or little synopses.  I really have found it interesting and useful.

As for a couple of links:

1.   www.CUBirthparents.org is wonderful

2.   LostDaughters.com check this out, this group is open and supportive and interested in many different facets of the adoption world.

Two more Facebook pages I read a lot are

Birthmothers Only Adoption Group: Cathi R’ha Ben Sun facilitator

And Is Adoption Trauma Community. 

More tomorrow, and I will continue to add to the list. 

 

 

Day #5: Treasures Of Life

Day 5 and it is the first Monday of the year: a new page, clean slate, fresh start.   Already I know I have narrowed my focus too small for this project.  Today was not filled with beauty.  I need to remember the balance and not get freaked out and force it.  Last night I heard favorite cousins of mine have split.  (Makes me really sad, sympathetic, but sad.)  Today I heard an old friend of mine is dying.   I can’t figure out whether hearing from me after 40 years would be fun, create a tiny smile, or be a bummer.  I certainly don’t want to annoy him at this stage of the game.  We made each other laugh a lot when we were 15 years old.  I remember sitting and talking in my parent’s living room one day, skipping school, just the two of us and feeling so grown up for doing it.  Kids are really crazy.   Anyway, the news pinched my heart, another thing to stab at it, another flick at the grief button. 

 

So my picture today is a still life.   It is of treasures given to me by people I love.  I set up the tripod in the kitchen while I cooked lentil soup and tried to set up a sweet display of treasures.  There’s a broken robin’s egg in there and sea glass and shells, my  new Christmas scarf, a piece of drift wood, a piece of money plant, a cobalt blue tiny bottle, a plant, and an elephant dish, a tiny elephant dish.   I have a lot of tiny treasures in this house.  Matter of fact, if I don’t bury myself alive with books or photographs, it will be with tiny little sweet offerings. I am sure people come in here and believe I might be a crazy old lady before my time.  I’m not; I just can’t get rid of things people give me.  I have things in this house that the father of my daughter gave me in 1967, things I cherish, not because they represent Andy, but they are forever things in my world, such as an elephant bronze incense holder that sits in my bathroom.  These things all record history, they all tell a story and I am obsessed with the story.  That is why I photograph my world; each picture represents a part of my life, a potential story for the teller. 

I am by nature an oral historian.  I collect and document stories of all kinds.  I just haven’t figured out a way to share it all, yet.   I’m working on it, thus this blog, but I have not completed the task. 

Today I did not find beauty out in my world, but I did find some peace, I did make some good soup and I am warm and those things all count for a lot.