One of the beautiful Americana chickens from our flock…

Tuesday, November 26th, 2013

The sun shines through the glass doors leading out to our deck on this chilly, late November day. I’m sitting like a cat in the sun, enjoying the warmth after hurrying along frost-covered ground this morning to let out the chickens. We can feel winter closing in day by day.

This Thursday brings another Thanksgiving, another day to stop and feel grateful for all the good that life holds.

Each night before we go to sleep, Landon and I take a moment to share what we are grateful for from the day. I most always have a list, but when I stop and look, one or two things will stand out. They are usually experiences, or involve another person—an interaction that touched me, or a moment I slowed down and admired some aspect of nature that I could have breezed past.

This morning, as I fed the chickens, I noticed how beautiful they are, with their gold, orange, black and yellow feathers glinting in the sunlight. A chubby bird with a red belly helped herself to the chicken food trough and the chickens didn’t seem to mind. The water in their water dishes had frozen over and cracked—I took all this in with just a few breaths and the openness to let it in. Those moments left me feeling nourished and alive as I walked back to the house.

I chose to live close to nature when I moved to Nevada City twenty-three years ago. When I bought this little apple farm seventeen years ago, I made another commitment to up the ante of my relationship with nature. Suddenly, I had all these living things dependent on me to survive. Both the farm and I have thrived in our journey together.

When Landon first arrived four years ago, he didn’t think I was ‘it’, but he loved my farm. He also loved the river, sleeping outside, showering outside, the quiet, the fresh apple crisp from my apples, the lake ten minutes from the house where he could row. In other words, my relationship with nature seduced him. The experience of being here, with me, seduced him. His mind, which was committed to the pictures he carried of what his partner should look like, gradually got taken over by the richness of life here.

We just put our outside bed (on the deck) away for the winter and now sleep in front of the fire again, falling asleep as the flames flicker and crackle, throwing shadows around the room. As my teacher John O’Donohue once said, ‘a fire can be good company’. It feels like another warm presence in the room as we drift off to sleep.

Our two nighttime rituals now include saying what we are grateful for and acknowledging each other for something from the day. Gay and Katie Hendricks, in their book ‘Lasting Love’ say that we should acknowledge each other five times more that we criticize each other. They also recommend practicing by trying to tell each other something positive once an hour for a while, to get into the habit. That can be a stretch, but sure will get you to start to pay attention to the lack of acknowledgement in your relationships.

It feels so good to have the last words we share, before ‘I love you’ and ‘sweet dreams’ be some way that we appreciate each other, some way that we see each other. It’s a way of saying ‘you are seen, you are loved’. We all need more of that.

So as Thanksgiving comes around again on Thursday, I’m feeling so blessed and grateful, and thankful that each day I stop to let it all in and to share it with Landon. The more I slow down and feel how rich and full life is, the more joy I feel and the more inspired I feel to express that back into life.

Love was the missing piece in my life—love with a committed partner who I loved back with all my heart. I have that now and know that a major piece of my life’s purpose has been fulfilled. Moving forward from here, it’s exciting to watch as the journey unfolds. How can we give back from all that we have? How can our joy contribute to others?

That is the ongoing inquiry that Landon and I continue to explore. Thank you for sharing out journey.

May you be blessed with love and joy on this first Holy Day (holiday) and beyond,
Diane

Below:  a flock of wild turkeys that visited the farm for a few days and then left…