The Hot Mess Of Beautiful Green Acres!
Updated: August 2, 2015
The Hot Mess of Beautiful Green Acres
I’m writing this in my pajamas sitting in the only room in my new house in the country that is almost unpacked, with both doggies lying beside me exhausted from the past two days of moving and construction shock (that will apparently continue for the next couple weeks).
Then there are the flies. There are definitely those irritating tiny terrorists in the house and quelle surprise (that’s French) they’re everywhere in the countryside. Did you know that farms have a lot of insects? Hmm, somehow in all the art and photography and wonderful romantic movies I’ve seen over the years that influenced my decision to go live out the rest of my days on a farm, those critters were noticeably absent.
Sebastian, our little deaf and going blind 13-year-old pom is terrified of flies. Living in the country is decidedly a buggy kind of experience and the poor little guy is not enjoying it one iota. Coco Doozy, the baby of the house- a wise and happy one year old on the other hand thinks they are fabulous and fun and chases them around.
I’m really hoping he will follow her lead at some point although I doubt that will happen.
So I am praying to the oversoul of the flies (since it worked once with cockroaches- I wrote about that story in my book Messages from Spirit) to vacate my house and remain outdoors where they really belong.
I abhor hurting anything alive. I believe all of us have a right to exist. We took scorpions outdoors when they ventured in to our Sedona home, (albeit with me shrieking my head off at Marc who did the actual relocating) I named all my stinkbugs in Connecticut Freddy, and spiders go in glass and out the door.
Flies, well, I’m sorry but should they refuse to listen to our prayers we’ve purchased an electric bug zapper tennis racket as well as a couple golden fly tubes to send them to the other side.
As a medium I know we don’t die, and as even flies are sentient beings so they will go to their next incarnation either in a glorious spark of fire or a sticky last supper of honey and squished blueberries.
Maybe I will be swarmed with fly goo when its my turn to head on over to another dimension or maybe not but I will take my chances.
This morning we noticed we went from about 40 flies down to about 10 and this was decidedly thrilling and cause for celebration. (Life does get simpler in the country)
I’m hopeful that now that Marc has gone kamikaze on a couple of them with the zapper that they will tell their friends to stay away.
I’ve been contemplating the choice we made to come here this morning. I joke about being like the old TV show I used to watch with my mom called Green Acres. Totally freaked out by farm life like Eva Gabor, but in truth I wanted to be here. I like the city but only to visit. I am happiest in remote places with few people surrounded by nature.
The other truth is that I can’t control what kind of nature I’m surrounded with. I can’t say I’ll take some of it but not others. It’s all or nothing out here in the middle of nowhere surrounded by stunning rolling hills that resemble my favorite parts of Scotland, and northern England.
This place called us here to love it and care for it and be present for it.
It needed a lot of help, hence the construction, which led us to discover how much more help it actually needed that went unnoticed by the inspector and us when we bought it.
I wonder if I’m like this house too. I’ve been under construction for a while now. A lot of my life was so stressful, all caused by me, by the schedules I chose, the goals I chased, all the moving around from place to place. Bit by bit I have chipped away at what wasn’t authentic to find the real me, the honest me, to recognize it was time to lay a new foundation to serve my highest good so I could serve that to others.
My generous friend soul contract astrologer Robert Ohotto (he’s on my radio show this week so tune in it’s an important show! www.hayhouseradio.com Thursday noon EST) gave me a reading for my birthday and said the gypsy archetype running much of my life had come to its conclusion finally.
It’s time to put down roots.
Green Acres it is.
So my question to you is, this. When you feel like you’re in a period of growth and change, whether it be moving physically or internally what was / is your experience? What keeps you rooted? Did you find yourself thrown for a loop or two? Then there is the shock of the change when you think you belonged in one place and find you might want to explore another. Has that happened to you?
One thing I know – miracles happen with radical acceptance and surrendering to a Higher Power’s plan.
Right now I’m writing this with a fly, and now his smaller fly friend that have decided to accompany me perched on my computer.
I think I’ll leave them alone, pretend they’re Minions and send them love and acceptance and ask them to stay away from Sebastian who is hiding in a closet poor little guy.
Truth is, like mindfulness meditation teacher Jon Kabat- Zinn says; this is what I signed up for – full catastrophe living. I have to live the whole enchilada. There are flies, and glorious green hills, velvety statuesque horses and cows with huge liquid eyes, and then there’s all that poop that come with more flies.
So, All is well in Green Acres, even though the change is really uncomfortable, accompanied by an upheaval and detour in plans, a pesky knee injury, financial challenges, emotional ones, returning to crappy eating (temporarily) and everything in between.
I know I’m just exhausted and haven’t “landed” yet but I will.
In one week. I’ve already learned so much about life, about how everybody gets a pass in “construction mode”, about partnership, about Spirit’s mysterious plans, about the incredible magic of an excellent Dyson vacuum cleaner, about the shock and awe of ageing skin, about fans when there is no air conditioning, about conserving energy, about humility, about the joy of being in the thick of it all and still managing to find moments of sheer peace, reverence and joy.
Green Acres is still the place to be.
O and one more thing.
A good cry has no calories.
Lots of love from me! Tag you’re it!
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