The woods hold me

I just got back from a walk in my woods. Before he died the woods were big enough for my concern. For my worry. Now it's big enough for my sadness. I just stomped on in and over the bridges that welcome me into it's depths. The wet dripping darkness of evening was so beautiful and profound. The light that eked it's way through the trees was enough.
One day I will rot in a coffin, I thought. One day I will be laid in a grave and my face will rot away and expose my teeth. My skull will be revealed under skin peeling away. And what will I be then? Will I be just an infinite inhale that always fills lungs with freshness? Or an exhale of infinite proportions- forever relieving my life's stress? Big deep breaths of Pacific Northwest fresh air. Big big big.
So am I ready? Am I ready to have a body that rots in a grave and just rely on my soul? What change can I make that will improve my heavenly standing right now? What can I do?
I can rely on God. And not think I'm so Miss Thang that He will bend His plans to fit into mine. This world is so great. So grand. Full of enormous actions that hold giant consequences and seemingly inconsequential flickers of thought. How can I expect that He will allow this or that preferred situation? What I can rely on is His grace to get me through the situation He has already planned for me. So trust. Immense trust. And hope.
I hope that Joe is in heaven. I want someday to know that he is there. On this earth would be nice but even better than knowing here on earth is possessing the knowledge while we are face to face in that final reward.
So back to trust. Trust is key. And simplifying my life. I've dumbified my iPhone. I can dumbify it some more. I need to delete some fun little photography and music apps. I just cannot handle infinity in my pocket. Instant information in my pocket. I'm just too weak. Fr Tom VDW really inspired me before the wake. We spoke briefly about how he used to have a smart phone and how he doesn't anymore. He swapped it for a dumb phone that was just laying around the church office.
I so long to be free from it. Can I ever be how I was? Not so much of a slave?
Here I am typing on it via Bluetooth keyboard- how's that for irony?
This Monday I have schole sisters club. I haven't read a page. We are discussing interior castle. More irony. I read it about 10 years ago but only recall bits and pieces and the overall theme. But I will go anyway because being with all the women in that group is so rejuvenating.
Let's get back to what I can do to change- to convert my heart. So easily I diverge from that topic. I can pray when I don't feel like it- which is in the morning. Used to be I longed for my quiet morning time. The dark early winter mornings with tea and John of the cross. But now I just meh. I rode a spiritual high of joyful mystery style faith earlier this year- thanks no doubt to all the graces Joe was earning for me. and now I have to hang on during the sorrowful mystery style hope time. Just hang on and keep on keeping on- even when I don't want to. Especially when I don't want to.
If I eat a pepper- my psoriasis flares. It's moved from my upper eyelid to the same side cheek bone. It looks like an impending blemish or old mosquito bite. I am pretty steadfast in my avoidance of peppers. Am I as steadfast in my avoidance of sin? It's not as easy to compare because most of my sins are so deep and habitual I am not even aware I'm in them until I'm in too deep and digging out is nigh impossible.
Ok- here is where I go off trail. And off trail thought process is more of an in-the-moment thing. It's exhilarating because of it's NOW, all encompassing, pre-modern reversion. I'm just focusing on each step. Each moment. So much so that when I find the trail again I think, "wow, it's really gotten dark!" And I'm running thankful for that brief time where my brain could go all on lizard. My heart is soaring with a hard thumping health. My water proof boots slick and my jeans wet to my thigh.
The woods keep my sadness and I return home to warm lights and comforting sounds of kitchen duty in the works.