Moving through life with intentionality; even in the hard times.

I’m writing this with my heart full of grief. I had to make a really hard phone call today. Our 15-year-old dog is not doing well and it is time to help him move on. I had to call to schedule someone to come to our house and help him make the transition from this life to the next. He is in pain and I do not want him to suffer. We have a little under a week with him still and even though I know in my heart that this is absolutely the right decision, my heart is broken. My kids don’t know a world without him. He is older than they are. He has been their protector, companion and constant since they were babies. Our home and lives will not be the same. This has brought on a grief I have not felt in a long time and I am trying to give myself the space and grace to feel it.

I talk a lot about working with the seasonality of life in our spiritual practices and moving with intentionality. I tell the people who take my classes that intentionality, to me, simply means doing things with a thoughtful purpose and making the space to really think about what it is that I want or need from a situation. I am having to take my own advice to heart right now. I am allowing myself to love on our old doggo as much as I can in the time we have left and I am trying really hard to allow the feelings wash over me as they come. Grief, nostalgia, remembrance, regret, anger, sadness. My spirit is heavy and I can feel that heaviness in my physical body, in my chest. We have talked to our kids and they understand that is the right and humane thing to do, and I am having to allow them the room to grieve too, in their own ways.

As I sat at home, planning our meals for the week I found myself plugging in recipes for comfort food. Warm, hearty dishes that feel like a warm hug. Soups and pot pies. I had to stop and remind myself that even though we have just celebrated the fall equinox, it’s still going to be 90º for the next few days and that maybe turning on the oven every day is not the best idea. It’s ok, though. I just pushed those meals ahead a week or so.

Even after all these years of knowing this, I still find it interesting that my go-to for comfort and solace comes in the kitchen. Food is my magic and cooking for others is my favorite gift to give. I hope that magic comes through extra powerfully this week. I hope my family takes comfort in the meals I have planned. I hope it eases their grief. I hope it wraps them up in a shroud of gentleness and love.

The wheel of the year keeps turning, regardless of our personal circumstances. It is our job to make sure we are taking the time to sit and observe as well as walk within that turning wheel of time. We must make time for the quiet moments in the bustle of the busy days. We must replenish our souls with the things that give us life and hope and happiness — so we can bring that same magic spark to others. I speak to my Magical Herbs class attendees about cultivating our spirits along with the earth and the class is based around the concept of using common herbs and plants in ways that can elevate even the most mundane tasks into ones that connect us with our spiritual selves and the world around us. I am leaning into that myself right now because I need the comfort. I fall back on cinnamon: incense burning in the house and my favorite cinnamon tea because it is a warm, strengthening, protective herb and it reminds me of home and comfort and of my mom.

My grief over losing our beloved Chewie is stirring up the same emotion about the shop and the work I am doing to keep it going. I am still struggling with the shop being slow, and as much as that has been consuming me these last few months, this new grief is sharpening it in some different ways while at the same time, reminding me that it does not necessarily need to be the most pressing thing right now. Life is bigger than what I do. I am not just one thing in this world, as much as I draw myself inside that circle. I am working on shedding my identity connection to the business. Yes, I am the face of Earth Spirit, but I need that to not be my entire identity. I am learning to let that part go because I am not sure how much longer the shop will be around and I need to be ok with that. I am learning to be able to separate the idea that the shop may eventually be closing from the thought that it is a reflection of a personal failing on my part. I’m working on focusing on the fact that things will probably be ok. My present grief is making the business grief feel different. I’m trying to feel it, see it and separate it. Maybe that’s progress. Maybe it’s denial.

I always envisioned the shop being around for longer. Our three-year anniversary is next month and I would love to make it to a four or even a five year celebration. But, I’m not sure that is in the cards anymore. Things feel so uncertain right now. We had two really good weekends in a row, but the hole is pretty deep and the shop needs more business in order for me to begin to climb out. I know things don’t last forever, and circumstances outside of ourselves can dictate a lot of what happens. I also know i’m not alone in this feeling and circumstance; so many local small businesses are right along side me in this situation. I am trying to refocus on gratitude for the time I have been able to have the shop instead of focusing on not having it anymore. I am so grateful for the customers and supporters who have been there since the beginning and the new customers, both of whom have continued to shop with us even though things are tight for everyone. You are the reason I created the shop to begin with and I am grateful to all of you for giving me that “why.”

So, this week, I may not be my usual perky self. If you choose to come to the shop just know that I am doing my best to bring you the spark you are accustomed to finding at the shop but my heart is heavy and I am allowing myself the space to be in these heavy feelings. I will be trying to be gentle with myself as this last week with our Chewie dog passes by. And, for right now, that is the best I can do.

Love,

Rin