coming out from the shadows

  lately, it has seemed more and more difficult for me to step forward from my little corner of the world, wherever that corner happens to be at the time (mostly in alabama, for weeks at a time) and share with you however i might be feeling at that moment.  i've been riding a roller coaster of emotions for months and months and months, mostly way down in the deepest part of the ride where the tracks swoop down, down, down.  who wants to write and share when the feeling is as bleak as that?  not i.  my modus operandi is to shrink back into the shadows and hide where i can't be decifered.  such a bad place to be, that corner into which i have painted myself.  poor old Ornamental.  this blog has suffered, so.  i used to write on a three or four day-a-week basis; since this summer began, or even before, the posts slowed down to a pitiful crawl.  what can i say?  i was hiding.  still am.  i know i don't need to hide anymore, even though these days, that is what i usually want and tend to do.  it's a terrible thing to feel this way, to watch myself fading further and further from the rest of the world.  i'm still here, i really am, although you'd never guess it.  i'm still here, and i'm reaching the point where something has to give.   calling all angels

     this photo tells a lot.  i took it the other afternoon, after coming home from the hair salon, when i was lying on the bed unable to make myself get up and do something, anything, other than lying immobile for a couple of hours in the late afternoon.  look at those glasses.  this house has inexpensive reader glasses scattered all over the place, yet the only pair i could get my hands on at the time is broken.  the glasses look like i feel:  incomplete, a little damaged but still functional.  so, yesterday, off to the river we went, walter and i.  it is a place from which i draw great strength, where the sound of the rushing water and the cries of the birds and the wind in the trees can be a wonderful balm.  i used to be on a very good schedule, rising at dawn, leaving the house at daybreak, driving over to the river so we could have an early start to the day.  right now it is all i can do to wade around in this mayhem of a disheveled house, a place that doesn't even feel like home anymore because i've been away so very much.  but, off to the river we went, and i wore my every day "river walker" earrings, to remind myself that i have feet to walk and a river to see.   i used to share a photograph of myself here at Ornamental once a week, when there was a Self Portrait website that i followed.  years have passed, and those years are showing now, on this nearly 56 year old face.  there are more shadows, and deeper wrinkles; the roots of my hair are white.  i'm no longer the mid-30's woman with children under my protective wing, am no longer raising two shining boys, no longer baking for them, taking them to interesting places, sharing life's magic, teaching them the good things that i know.  there is no fairy that visits the house for them; they visit now for me.  from me, the boys learned to love the outdoors, to have a passion for the life that they are now living on their own, and this brings me great pride; yet, i still pine for their presence, even though they live hundreds and thousands of miles away.  phone calls with them are precious pockets of time.  visits are scarce.  they are their own versions of what a good human being is:  they love, they contribute, they strive, they honor and respect the land.  their hearts are good.  but i miss them.  oh, i miss them, so much.   my poor little studio hasn't had much activity since i came back home; trinkets are still packed up in boxes that i carried with me to colorado.  new gemstone strands that were purchased at the gem show here in july rest quietly in their little drawers.  i'm sensing a change in the air, in many ways.  my work needs to evolve, and i am finally - finally! - turning the art instruction outward from teaching, to making time and allowing myself to learn some new techniques instead.  all these years that i've traveled to teach workshops, all over the world, i've not taken the time to be taught, myself.  the time has come for me to push my work forward, in another direction.  and with that push, maybe my life will have some good lessons, as well.   yesterday, in the afternoon hours after our river walk, i sat quietly at the studio table and remembered what i had seen in colorado.  i remembered the colors and the way the rocks and the lay of the land pulled at my soul.  i thought about the deep, deep reds when the late afternoon sun spread its warmth across the worn, layered rocks, i thought about the way the sky looked between middle of the afternoon and the mellowing of the golden hour's last light of the day.  it was a quiet few minutes of sorting through things that pulled up colorado memories and sensations for me.
i loved that time with robin, barreling down beautiful back roads like jack kerouac, the wind from the open car windows whipping my hair across my face, the light on robin's profile reflecting all the beauty that the moment brought.  such a gift, this time with my beautiful older boy.  such a gemstone to hold and keep warm in the palm of my hand.
  i know, i truly do, how much there is for which i am to be forever grateful.  i live in a beautiful part of the world, my boys have good health, i continue to work at the things that i love and am able - no matter how much i worry or fret - to carve out a living making the bits and pieces of jewelry that come out of everywhere, down through my fingers, and into this world.  the other day, when i was speaking over the phone with a good friend i've known for years and years, i openly shared with her how sad i have felt, how full of anxiety and fear my days and months have been.  "you have a roof over your head", she said to me.  and yes, she is right, but these were not the words that at that moment i wanted or needed to hear.  i am honest and wide open to a fault, with family and friends, with all of you here at Ornamental.  maybe that is why i've been holding back, here in the shadowed corners.  maybe i've felt like sparing all of you the darkest details of the way i've been feeling, the way i've been living my life draped in a wet blanket of dampened emotion.  i don't want to hear from anyone that i need to appreciate the things that i have; i have deepest gratitude, i just feel it through some sort of filter right now.  i don't want a lecture, i don't want anyone telling me what they think i need to do.  i'm only sharing with you how i have felt, i'm only trying vainly to explain the pockets of absence and the long stretches of silence that so many of you have experienced from me when the emails don't get written and sent, the phone calls aren't returned, the invitations are politely turned down.  i'm trying, in all the little ways i know to do, to honor myself, to pick up the dusty pieces, to move forward in hope and with grace.  right now, that is not at all an easy thing to do.   my beautiful mother's beautiful hands, on the occasion of her 85th birthday when a neighbor graciously took the two of us out to a lovely dinner

  my loyal four legged companion and me, reflected on a rainy blustery morning in the studio window earlier this week

on this late friday morning, the sun outside my window is brightly shining.  there are still a couple of hummingbirds lingering at the feeder, the last of visits from their busy rainbow presence before they head on their valiant journey south for winter.  how they fly so far, with those tiny tiny wings and rapidly beating hearts, i do not know.  i'm going to do my best to journey onward, myself.  there will be changes, many of them good.  there will be things that i face in paralyzing fear, but hopefully the fear won't freeze me to the point of being unable to keep from advancing ahead.  it's not an easy thing to do alone, to face this life, to provide solely for myself, to advance in age with courage and quiet dignity.  one foot ahead of the other, right?  one walk at a time, along that beautiful river. xo

Comments

[sue]

Dear Nina, When I was fearful of my upcoming 50th birthday, you told me I was "entering the age of grace and wisdom". I loved that! Whenever I am having doubts about myself, I remember what you said, and it always makes me smile.
You have grace and wisdom by the bucketful, you are just re-adjusting your sails...the fear and doubt will pass and you will find what you are looking for. Just follow your heart. xo

[Diana B]

Oh, good grief, there's always somebody (usually hundreds of thousands of somebodies) in the world who has it worse than you, but how on earth does that help you out of a funk? Really, sometimes I despair of people's lack of compassion for even dear friends (never mind the 47%, but let's not go there...). Listen, it's hardly surprising you've been on an emotional roller coaster for a couple of years now; it would be amazing if you weren't depressed about it more often than not, and just want to crawl into a corner and pull the rug up over your head. But you are a strong and beautiful woman (and about your 56-year-old face - you earned every damn wrinkle and shadow the hard way, m'dear) and you will persist. When you go to the river with dear Walter and just soak it all in, it shows you know how to get out of the hole, and I expect you always will. It's just hard, damned hard, and there will occasionally be two steps back for every one forward, but (most of) your friends are here to backstop you. xoxo

[Frankie Kins]

Thinking of you, dear Nina, and wishing you the very best.

[Nancy Krampf]

shall we saunter the road of life
fill our vessels with wonder
take our time to absorb the light

we need not rush any longer
that we have done

now we need to observe every little living being
and rejoice for the moment of grace to do so
and allow the tears and laughter the sadness and joy

xx000xxx0x000xxx
flow throughout our own being
for we are smoothed rocks
from the water of life

[Carol]

good to see you post again Nina......sorry you are going thru a difficult time.......xo

[Barbara]

Hey cuz. We are often separated by miles & miles. But I have been on this same slow journey beside you. Since I lost my son, Chris, life has been in the shadows for me too. I haven't stayed in touch like I should have. I miss you, sweet thing. Lot'sa love!

[Margy Houtz]

Ah, Nina...been there...will hold your place till you can get back...
Xox
Margy

[Katey Deasy]

What I love about you is that nothing slips by you, and you express it so beautifully. A master story teller even more so because it's your story and that is the hardest story to tell. A soulful story teller. You told me I was at a pivotal point in my life but I think you are too. We both are going onward and that is a good place to be.

[Nancy]

If you can just remember that the bad times do pass...
Some days that's all there is to hang on to--that and the hope that maybe there will be a beautiful sunset this evening, or a beautiful moon. Just something lovely from which to take hope.
With sincerely hope for better days for you ahead.

[linda e]

you look absolutely stunning...

[sandra]

yesssss....
you've got a witness...

[tracey]

I did some hiding last year. We all do, it's where the good things come and find us. I felt a hiding coming on today while I had a pity party in my studio. I turn 52 on Sunday and my daughter can't come home from school because she has a screenplay due on Monday. Feeling way too sorry for myself, then I read your post, and I know that there are many of us out there sharing the same dark places and the light places, joys and sorrows...... I know when those times are coming when I feel like hiding and I just go ahead and accept it, because I know I always come out better for it somewhere on the other side. You will too! and I am making you a sweet little house :)

[Martha Smith]

Nina, I don't comment often enough, but I love your blog. You are such an inspiration to me. I have been having my own battle with the shadows these past few months and am seeing a little more light. I will keep you in my heart as you make your journey. Bles you.
Martha

[Jann]

..."the mind may be willing but the body faints"... this is a quote I found somewhere and it seemed to sum up a lot of these feelings. I've been in that place where you are many times. It's the long dark night of the soul and for me at least, more than once. Be brave dear Nina. Sending you love and strength

[karen]

Always thinking of you, Sweet Nina, when you aren't posting. I've missed you.

[grrl+dog]

So glad I spotted this on my FB rool. I t has been ages since I popped by to say hello.

But here is what I can offer:

I feel where you are at.. as if you rart self need to lie and be fallow while the it enriches itself from below. Everythign is ebb sand flow, and soon it will be flow again. The tides of our life are stronger than you or I.

Fear not, there is a beautiful butterfly coming.

love to you,

Denise

[Linda B.]

Knowing that we are blessed in many ways does not diminish the gray moods which we all experience. And it's no good to deny those moods when they creep in unannounced. Honestly, I think it's okay sometimes to feel a bit morose, and to withdraw into silence and contemplation. How else to find those dark, deep wells inside where self-knowledge waits? How else to feel the bliss of breaking free from those times? It's all a part of the journey. (p.s. I'm the Mom of a 32-year-old daughter, and I still miss my baby girl. Wouldn't have it any other way. And I also wouldn't trade my 60-year-old self for the 28-year-old I was then, blissfully unaware of the problems and sorrows ahead. I love the freedom of time and being able to read, play, create, walk or do anything else the wind blows my way. The crone years agree with me!)

[susan]

Thank you for this post, Nina.
It must have been extremely difficult for you to write these words to us. I know because I've spent a lot of time in the darkness too. Life can be so hard at times.
But, I'm happy that you and Walter were walking along the river. And I'm happy that you are watching the hummingbirds. And I'm happy that you spent some time with your mama, and Robin too.
I'm thinking of you every day.
Sending you love and prayers.
Wishing you strength and lots of river walks.

dusan xo

[Katherine Langford]

I am holding your heart in my hand like that sunlit gem. I am breathing on it and sending you best prayers for peace and quiet and healing. May the wind whistle come and play. May the sun send you warmth for your bones and heart. You are a sweet butterfly resting before flying to a new height. You are worthy of love and we love you just the way you are. Mister Rogers would agree. Hugs, dearest Nina. May the river remind you that it is always moving, always changing and that is just the way rivers are. Cheers and HUGS.

[Barbara]

I'm sorry that I have no words for you. Just know that I heard you and believe I understand.

[Jamie V]

Nina - it's great to hear from you again. Doesn't matter how often you post - I still visit often and reread old posts! You are always an inspiration! I am pretty much at the same point as you - trying to pull myself in another direction. Hang in there - we can do it! Sometimes its ok to step back for awhile to appreciate that good things to come! We deserve it! Love & Hugs to you, sweetest Nina~

[Dinahsoar]

I share your suffering. I understand.

My mother died unexpectedly in August and it has been gut wrenching. She would have been 82.

Those who might think 'well, she had a good long life' don't understand--it is always too soon to lose someone so dear.

The loss is great, and the grief is great. Suffering goes hat in hand with loss.

Thankfully my friends do not judge me, pointing out all that I have, but instead they tell me simply to grieve. To give myself time to heal from the hurt of loss.

And it is just what I need to hear. It is all I need to hear for now.

In my mind I see mamma seated at a table in heaven with a lot of people, and all of them are happy and laughing and full of light and joy, and I know that she is radiant there.

But I am not there. I am here. And I miss her.

Time marches on and waits for no one. Life changes every day. Some days it is easier to hide in the dark fringes than it is to come into the light.

[ninabagley]

Sometimes its ok to step back for awhile to appreciate the good things to come - well said!!! thank you for this!!! xoxo

Sent from my iPhone

[Amy]

Godspeed as you journey forward ......

[Laurie G. (flickr morningk)]

Hello. Good to find you here. Happy autumn.

[Karen]

Darling Nina. I hear you. Sending you much love and understanding. xoxo

[Vickie]

toolooo toolooo tooda dooda do. chirpy little bird ye are, silent gracie. singing a sweet song of woe and joy, the twins at the breast of a fledged woman. fear not the night or the day, tides turn and the moon too. stars will pause to watch just to see what you'll be doing next, even all curled up cozy and pink in a blanket or trailing a flexed finger in a pool of still water. happiness can be a setting sun on a good day, no harm done in wishing for a longer look. lets lift our cup a tea to each other in our quiet moments dear ladies of the land, it will be a new day 2moro. loveallaround

[Cece]

Thanks for sharing this post. <3

[Nancy Bowron]

As I read the words I (hate to) admit that I feel the same way. My children are in college now, and the feeling that I have already accomplished my life's great work is pressing on me. It is hard to find something to do in this life that is equally as important! I love that you talk about change. I, too, need to learn how to live a nes way; find a new purpose. Thank you for sharing.

[Diana Simpson]

You look simply beautiful. I wish you a world of better, brighter days.

You were on my mind yesterday as I was dusting my dresser (something I do all too rarely). On it, there's a little wooden figure of a boy and goat that you brought me from Germany back in the '70s. I think of you fondly whenever I see it.

[Richelle Post]

Learning some new techniques may well be just the balm your soul is
craving. It's always great being with your "tribe". I especially like taking a class when I 'm feeling blue or drained. It puts my mind on a new path.

[Ina]

Even tho I don't know you,I feel that a know a little about you from your blog so I do care about you and what you are going thru. I look forward to hearing from you and Walter, and I really enjoy your pictures you post.

[dorylyn]

Nina, Thank you for sharing this post! Some days I think I am the ONLY person in the world that feels exactly as you described. It is hard to give, give give, so much of myself only to wake up and realize my 3 beautiful children are grown and raising families of their own, my sons are calling to say they grilled out (without burning their hands or their house down and it was delicious, mom!)To see my daughter make a wreath for her door...I will be 60 years old in 2 months. 60? How did I get here? Where did the dreams I had for me go? Why am I losing hair on my head and gaining it on my chin? Yes, some days curled up with Jack Kerouac is exactly where I want to be. It takes no effort, no energy, no emotion and for one small moment I can live life through him. On these days I must remember the caterpillar, the bear, the tulips...it's OK to stay hidden, it's just not OK to stay there. I don't know you personally but I love you.

[ninabagley]

dorylyn! stupid
iPhone keypad!

Sent from my iPhone

[Angela]

I'm in hiding too, and it seems that a whole bunch of your readers have also been there at some point. Maybe it's just a place we all have to visit every once in a while?

Thanks a lot for this post, Nina. You look great in the photos you shared. I hope when you are ready to rejoin the world you'll find yourself is a much better place than ever before.

[Vickie]

Lord, I check here every day and today I find so many comments already. Calling all angels--I love it every time I hear that song so thank you for mentioning it. You look so lovely; I am near your age and about as white-haired as can be. When you talk about how you feel, I feel like you have been swirling around inside my head. Is it the season, similar life experiences...I don't know but I would guess many, like myself, dorylyn, so many others.. feel as you do. I am so glad you posted. For ever so many reasons, thank you for putting it all out there.
vickie in kc

[A Facebook User]

My mum (now 91 yrs old) used to say "such are the vicissitudes of life, Mary" when I went to her for emotional comfort. I now care for her 24/7 as she has Alzheimers and doesn't even know who I am. Two years ago I was in the hospital, losing my home, suffering from acute depression, no income and alone. Today I am married to a vibrant wonderful man who is 75 (I am 63), taking care of mum and sharing our home with my sister from whom I was estranged and five rescued cats. If someone told me my future back then, I would have never believed it. You look beautiful in your photos, really beautiful. You are such a strong woman handling your given life. You are projecting forward and envisioning where you want to be. You are employing those awesome talents you have within to make the frightening changes ahead. I would say you have much, much to look forward to!
xo
M

[Vickie]

ps...the picture of you and walter..absolutely fabulous!
vickie in kc

[MaggieD (Dianne)]

Reading your words, then staring out the window into my deep woods.. with all my heart I send you the word..NAMASTE . Thank you Nina for opening YOUR heart to us.

[Tina in McLeansville]

hello you....i like it when you peek out of your little pocket. it's hard to keep walking down the path when we're not sure what's at the end. but know i'm walking with you. hugs...xo

[V-Grrrl @ Compost Studios]

I get tired of everyone trying to spin aging into something golden and precious. time for yourself! an era of reinvention! look at all the wisdom you have!

I,too, am grateful for the richness and bounty in my life, the people I love, the natural world, the fact that I am housed and well fed. But aging *is* scary. It is in so many respects a process of letting go and of losing things against our will. It is mortality. It is reckoning. It is a hard journey even when it looks "easy" to those outside of it.

[Jamie]

<3 (It's supposed to be a heart. I'm not sure if it will show up as one or not. Either way, you'll know I was here.) xoxox

[Sharron Carleton]

I hear you, but I know that heart on your sleeve is a powerful strong one,xoxo, sharron

[bobbie]

Holding a space for you filled with courage, strength, calm and healing ~

[missy]

been there too.....so will just hang quietly
here with ya....
missy from the bayou

[Jaliya]

Oh, Nina xoxo In the last photo, the one of you and Walter reflected in the window? -- you look about nine years old ...

I'm with you in this. I haven't blogged since February.

There *is* a profound shift in us, through us, around fifty. A slowing ... a recognition (sometimes just "Holy shit!!") ... a reckoning. And going through this while living with no other humans ... it's impossible to avoid the mirror(s)! Every pane seems to say, 'Look ... at how long you've lived ...' ~ It's funny that you posted that last pic; I wonder if you saw a child-face there. Being in my early 50s feels a lot like being about nine ... Hmm ...

Love and empathy to you xoxo

[Michele Unger]

XO

[SusanS]

F**k it! Jump in the car and come to Albuquerque. We'll leave the dogs with Ev and go get us a "Lifestyle Lift". Then we'll totter over to Borders and get you some cheater glasses with a neck doohickey. And then we'll check into the Hilton where they have soft lighting and we can marvel at each other's beauty while drinking martinis.
I40West all the way. I'll tell you where to turn.

[lilylovekin]

Understanding the bleakness. I thought I was all alone. You are loved.

[Lise Peeples]

Sending you loving thoughts and blessings, dear Nina.

[Annette]

Nina, I bought a clean your studio box from you & it still waits, tho I sure do make many things. I read your blog because I so admire your wrap/choker pieces & other things. I'm 60 with kids out & married & my mom & dad still liviving but just barely living....88!yrs old. They are like two old trees propping each other up, still living in little old house. I read your blog & look for information on how I'll ever cope with their passing. The hardest part will be when one goes first. The one left will be the one who suffers most. I read your blog & think, is this how it will be? I'm prone to introversion, a damaged heart/emotion, but naive to the extent that I stride ahead with hopefulness since my damage hasn't yet been children or parents. I read with hope I'll see that you'll see light & hope again because that will remove some fear that my future won't drop me down a hole I can't crawl out of. I'm now in a place where I have happy things to be grateful for but hold back thinking joy might jinx the future. But we are all old trees that are growing old. Life goes on, we each wait in line & need to tell the younger ones we've had a good life. I know I'm grateful for my turn. Will life after loss of parents be too deep a hole to emerge from?

[Deidre Nelson]

I hear you, Magnificent Nina. Take time to be quiet and nurture yourself. You are absolutely Allowed to withdraw from the world and Evolve in your own time and space. Love and blessings

[Dedri Quillin]

So glad you posted. We still love you.

[Sandy Clowes]

Thanks for all your posts, Nina, but this one touched a nerve with so many of your readers. Getting older, grown kids, ailing parents, loss of loved ones...it's a tough journey we're on. xo, Sandy

[christina]

oh my, i started reading your post and tear's poured from my eyes....you see i have been dealing with the same things (something must be going on with the universe) well except for the grown kids part. my little man is still home with me....he is special beyond words and sometimes i worry for him as he grows older, will he be okay, will he make it in this big wide world. i don't know.

i unplugged the phone, turned off my computer and just hid from the world for days on end. i have been slowly emerging from the funk, like a bear from hibernation, and trying to move on one step at a time....better go find the box of tissues before i frizzle out my computer.

blessing to you nina, you are so loved by so many!

[Seth]

As others have already said: thinking of you.......

[Vanessa Hall]

Oh Dear Nina, we all love you & your words that bless us, now we are sending you love & comfort & lending our shoulders to carry you on, strong woman with a tender heart your need time for self now, deep night of the soul, it's always darknest before the dawn. recieve grace, peace,comfort, joy will be close behind, Vanessa rest

[Mary]

I understand more than you know. I have felt raw for months now. Grateful for it all, but sensitive to the touch.

I do hope your mom is okay. Keeping you both close in prayer. xoxo

[Emily]

I never ask someone to explain themselves when they are feeling this way, because it is always hard for me to put it into words myself when I get blue or wish to hermit. Ahhh, the ebb and flow of life. I guess we have to ride it out the best we can! Sending a blanket of love your way Nina.

[Jillayne]

I'm a hider too. Sometimes, as Wordsworth said, "The world is too much with us late and soon" and I pull back -
This is the most heartfelt and expressive post I've ever read and I felt honoured to read it... deeply personal thoughts.
Paths lead up mountains and down valleys, across wind-swept plains, through deep forests full of shadow and light, by tranquil waters and along thundering shores...

[Bonnie Moench]

My love to you and a big hug!!!

xoxo
Bonnie

[kimberly bradshaw meadows]

Nina, you are an amazing soul....

[Carole]

I know that 'dark' place well. I hide there myself on occasion. Sometimes you have to in order to find yourself again.

You'll get there.

[Sharon Siqueiros]

~we all have dark places....just remember you are loved~

[gretchen]

understood. take your time - there is no rush to provide all of us with anything. we appreciate the gifts of your blog posts and new pieces if and when they come, and in the dry spells think of you with warmest wishes and hopes...

[sonya]

Dear Nina from Carolina, you have given me wild hope so many times with your art and your words. So I send wild hope back to you, right now.

[hol]

Love you Long Time, XOXOXO, Large Love

[Laura]

many times i come here and read your words to find that my brain goes, "there! that's it! exactly how i feel, but can't describe." thinking of you
xo
blessings
~*~

[lk]

as an inveterate "hider", I hear you. No lectures here. You look soulful and much younger than 56.

[herhimnbryn]

Hallo Dear One,
Sorry i haven't commented for ages. I gave up blogging months ago, so have not been checking others for a while.

Remember when we met those few years ago? We had two hours together and you made such an impression on me. And how we talked, like we had known each other for years! Well, my dear, you give off something when you are with others, something sublime and uplifting and funny too. Give some of that stuff to yourself now. Go and learn new skills and be gentle with yourself.

I miss you, but think of you often.
Susan xo

[Shirley@BlueGateFarm]

"Beauty is important in this fragil life" Jan Karon wrote. Nina, I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers!!!
Blessings,

Shirley

[Loretta]

I am hovering in the same dark place, Nina. I hope you find the light and shine it for the rest of us. You bring beauty and poetry into my life every time I log on here.

[kate]

nina. i have a boy. a border collie. a roof. mom is 80 daddy 83 dog is 13 boy is 10. and there is stillness and sadness in my heart. there is spectre of loss and age, the weight of which is surprising. At 53 I am fearful of loss of so many kinds. And my burdens feel heavy. somewhere there is a source of grace. and i'm still reaching for it.

[Gena]

No advice or life comparisons will come from me. Just ((((hugs)))) for you.

[Jacky Mcfarlane]

Just a big hug dear friend, wish I was closer

[cindy courtright]

Some days a Honey Crisp Apple is the brightest light in my day. But what a light,

[susan]

Just a little hello on this first day of October (your birthday month, I believe).
Sending you love and happy thoughts.

dusan xo

[teri]

77 comments...wow. You are loved.

Just found your blog today and appreciated your heartfelt comments. We are nearly the same age, you and I, and my children are also grown. Ten years ago depression and anxiety led me to therapy and medication, which (for me) was a life changer. I know it's not for everyone, and have no lesson I wish to teach -- but I appreciate your honesty and what I can say is that I understand.

[Kent]

thank you for being so open and honest... It has helped me today

[hairdressers adelaide]

This is one nice post! I love it! A lot of people appreciate this update from you guys! Thanks!

[Sue]

Hi Nina, I am glad to see you back and sorry for your funk...I think it is just one of the hazards of being female. I don't think the hormones ever settle. Hope you are feeling better soon. Hang in there. This too shall pass.

[Jennifer]

Nina, are you feeling better? I'm glad you shared your heart. There are so many of us who can relate to you, to your journey. We are all kindred spirits on the rocky path that is life. I find it feels like it gets rockier, steeper, and sometimes darker the older I get. Sometimes just writing it down and clicking the 'post' button is the best therapy. Honestly, the things you wrote are things I think about sometimes. But you are not alone. Never alone. Light will shine again. There is always the light of Grace and Mercy. Take care.

[Fonda]

Isn't funny how your words create such an outpouring of understanding in the hearts and minds of all of us. I think your words are like your jewelry(exactly like that) they create a vignette, a moment in time thats almost archetypal like fairytales. Do you know what I mean? And because it's archetypal we all can relate. Because it comes from the heart of not just you, but the heart of the matter...the heart of our age and gender and life experiences.
I know about the filter and I know about the anxiety and I know about having finished the job of raising children. I also know that people understanding my anxiety has never helped me move out of it. Because I have to find it within myself and not without. So I understand not wanting to even talk about it. Thank you, though, for overcoming that impulse and sharing your heart...it gives us all a chance to remember that we are not alone.

[Debi Lowe]

When I read this post about your trip to Colorado (my home state) I just had to comment. I am so thrilled to have found you-several years ago! This is my first comment though. When I read your soul words & view your WONDERFUL artwork I feel like we are soul sisters! I live High up in the Colorado Rocky Mtns-8600 feet. I live in an adorable Log Cabin & create my mixed-media art & just revel in the peacefulness of it all! From what I've read here, I think we are living a very similar lifestyle-Solitude & being alone most of the time. I'm so glad to know that you are there, creating & growing & encouraging the rest of us to do the same. Thank You for having the courage to be you. We all love you & what you share with us. Debi in Colorado

[kim]

Oh Dear.

I, too, am in my 50's and I just think it's a really hard time of life. I am starting to experience losses -- of people, of my own health -- and it's just damned hard to navigate.
I send my best wishes to you. I hope you draw strength from the many people here who care about you.
Kim

[jen (littlepart)]

just thinking of you, nina...hope you out walking along your river...

[Ramona Gordy]

It's ok Nina
Life can be hard, but not impossible. Sometimes we need to retreat or hide, so that our hearts can be mended and our souls fortified. I know, I know. You will be fine and you know that. Rest.

[Anna Maria]

Hello Nina,
I'm not going to tell you what I think you should do, because I don't have a clue. I don't even know what to tell myself, nor what I'm doing living here in southern Italy all by myself in a big house on 3 acres, but I am saying that any time you want to come hide out here for an indefinite time, your are very welcome to. I'm sure you have friends who could take care of Walter for a while and you could hang out with my four. It's beautiful here in its own different way, its own very very different way. By the time you got back home, if nothing else, after seeing my wild and crazy bunch you would appreciate Walter even more and the easy availability of so many things you can purchase, that down here can't be found.
I took some photos of my self today, and among many other unpleasant things, I noticed that I have grown flappy wings under my arms. I edited them out!!
ciao for now dear.

[barbara karr]

I love you, Nina, and I am so sorry that you are in this dark place. I call it "the pit" and know its hollow too well. I feel sure that with all that has happened in your life in the last 2 or so years, you are really at a time when you need to put yourself first and perhaps get medical advice. I am 2 years older than you and know that hormones do not play nicely. Get a general physical exam, which should include some questions about your mental health. I know I am taking liberties with our friendship, but I only wish someone had said this to me sooner than they did. A physician's asst saved my life when I didn't even know I was drowning. (Well, I knew I was drowning, but could not find a reason or the energy to surface.) And the one thing I know for sure is that this is not the way you intended to live your life. I lost time with my family due to depression and will regret it the rest of my life. I am so sorry that this has turned into a lecture...please consider it just me talking to you. Your devoted friend, barbara

[Jan]

It's Thanksgiving in Canada today, and I'm writing to say I'm thankful for you and your blog. High or low -- you're always an inspiration and encouragement.

[pam knutson]

My Dear Nina - I am a lurker, although we have met at Artfest. I think you and your work are magical, fantastik and beautiful. Keep walking by that river with your dog, you will find strength there. One foot in front of the other. If you need to sleep - sleep. Give yourself lovely treats to eat and hot tea in your beautiful cup made by your friend. You will come out of this stronger. My very strong sense when reading was that maybe eventually you will end of in Colorado, nearer your boys. Maybe that is the change that will come eventually and will reinvigorate and stimulate you? My son turned 18 on Monday. He is still here, a senior in High School, but I have felt him moving into his own orbit for a long time now. He has his own world but I miss my little boy and all the adventures that we had together. Funny how when you finally have your life planned around them they are ready to move on...that is the unfortunate side of Mothering I think. Our job is to help them fly away...I think of you so often when I am out walking or looking at rocks or water or these glorious fall trees. I wish you nothing but the very best and wanted to let you know this. Take your time, you will be fine eventually. You have so many people wishing nothing but good things for you. xo Pam (from Mpls)

[Carla]

I, too, am slowly coming out of my own personal shadows. I've found a quote that helps me and I offer it to you with concern, love, and compassion. "You have been loved before the beginning of time."

[Stacey M. Curry]

Thinking of you Nina...hope you are feeling the warmth of love form all of us...life ebbs and flows and plenty of time we just need time to work it out...I am just so sorry it's so dark right now...I do hope that you will feel the beautiful sparkle return soon. Sending you warm thoughts, positive vibes and much light!

[fay]

Please come back, we miss you.

[Katrina]

Dear Nina, Angels surround you, all will be well. It's okay to slow down, to spend time in darkness, in slowness, in thought, even in depression. What should have taken me months to do has taken me a year. I manage to keep the house clean and cook and do 'the usual' because I care for my father now, who just celebrated his 90th birthday, but this year my creativity has suffered and my sense of moving forward. You are not alone with this, it's a stage we all experience. It will pass. Until it does, have courage and know that you are loved.

[susan]

thinking of you today, Nina.
and sending love.

dusan xo

[Karen]

Nina-
Thinking of you, "birthday twin", as we approach our birthday week. Hoping that you are finding your way...rousing yourself from the grayness and inertia and making/taking the steps you need to make for wholeness and peace. Fall is always my favorite and hardest time - I think of you in your studio making your gorgeous pieces as I struggle with entering mine...

Check in with us - your community of like-minded spirits are here to support you, as we must all support each other.

Very best wishes.

[eKo Art]

I can completely relate to the emotions and words you've written, Nina. I have been feeling the same way. Though I'm sure the reasons are very different from yours, the dark feelings and isolation are very much the same. Your words never fail to move me and make me feel less alone. I hope all of the comments people have posted—including mine— have the same effect for you. Thanks for always writing with such honesty. Sending cyber hugs your way ...

[Vickie]

Thinking of you; wishing you well; missing you.
vickie in kc

[Ailsa Willis]

Dear Nina, I'm wondering where you are and what you are doing. Wherever... know that you are much loved. We all care about you and how you are feeling. Hoping that knowing this will be of comfort to you and that you will be blessed, inspiring friend of grace and wisdom.
Love and Hugs