Odd

How odd it is. Getting out of bed, and getting on a bus, going to work on a regular day, frightens me more than a haphazard trip to the other side of the world.

Let me face an angry bear and a pack of wolves, it would be a relief compared to the deadly sting of everyday life.

 

Forgive me for being absent from here. I am not gone, merely busy working through the pain of anxiety and depression.

 

And speaking of anxiety, time’s up. Time for work.

Wandering

Again I have been silent. No, I haven’t forgotten about you all, I have merely retreated for a bit to take care of myself. Times are rough, emotionally. But I’m hanging in there, so don’t worry. I’ll climb back out of the hole again. Hopefully with some fresh insights after lessons learned, but for now I’d settle for just being able to go through a day without chest pains and tears.

 

I’ll be alright.

 

My greatest sadness is the strain it all puts on my beloved husband. I so wish I could be a normal, happy, rock steady wife for him, but instead I am this. That is what hurts the most. It is worse than all the rest, and it is not rare for me to think those horrid thoughts – that he would be better off without me.

 

But, there are also still moments of joy. It’s in the scent and warmth of my husband as I hold him close. It’s in the deeply satisfying realization that I’ve learned something new. It’s in being able to help a friend, and put a smile on another’s face.

 

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If you are lost in the woods, who would you rather have guide you? One who has never been in those woods themselves, only seen it from the outside, or one who has walked the paths herself, and found the way out? Or perhaps even she who has made the woods her home. No longer lost, but safe and happy right where she is? I don’t know, I am still wandering.

 

 

 

Amputated (Dream)

 

You can’t do that! I cry out in fear,

watching the woman laid bare on the bed.

A blade presses gently against her arm, 

trailing an invisible line across her skin. 

And then once more further down, 

across the thigh above the knee.

It is diseased, you say. 

All between the lines you see.

There is no other way. 

 

I cry, I fear, I panic and think

that woman will die.

For how could she not?

 

You listen not to me.

Your hand is steady, 

you cut and reshape

the flesh that remains. 

 

It is with great relief I see

the woman stand

alive and free of pain,

free of all that was. 

So much, cut away, 

she’s now no taller than a child

but still alive.

 

Yes, I see her walking.

Through painful loss,

and frightful aid,

a brand new life.

A Cleansing

 

snowy skies

 

 

In rainwater soak

Leaves of birch chopped fine

Into it coarse salt pour and

Mix with almond oil

 

 

Strip down bare

Even if cold

Leave not a thread

Even if cold

 

 

As thorough as ever then

Wash your limbs

Wash your body

Wash your hair

Rinse in running water

 

 

With salted birch and oil you then

Scrub your limbs

Scrub your body

Scrub your hair

Rinse in running water

 

 

Afterwards

Clean new clothes

Chamomile and honey tea

Sleep and be reborn

 

 

snowy skies

 

 

 

Mighty Rowan, kära rönn

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Our house lies in between two big old rowan trees. You can see one of them in the picture above, in bloom as they are in the earlier days of summer. Today there are no flowers, but plenty of bright red berries.

The rowan, in Swedish is called rönn, may not be the grandest of trees – often it grows to be no more than a shrub. Nonetheless it has a mighty powerful place in folklore, ancient mythology, and yes, magic. Protective as well as runic magic, most of all. According to an old myth a rowan tree once even saved the life of Thor himself, which is no small feat.

The young leaves can be used for tea, and the berries are edible. Not particularly tasty, but edible. They are completely packed full of vitamin C, so much that three a day will cover what you need. Luckily you don’t have to eat them raw, they can be made into jelly or jam, or even wine. Or you can dry them and add a bit in bread baking, or use in your müsli or whatnot. The birds love them too, and for good reason – rowan berries, or rönnbär, makes up their most important food source in wintertime, at least up here.

One day the two mighty rowan trees by our house will wither and die. It’s alright, there are already young shoots coming up to take their place. We will take care of them, and perhaps they will take care of us.