Thursday, December 3, 2015

12/3/15 - I Was Scared

This was the sunset our first night in Ehrenberg. Awe-mazing!

Turn to the East, and this was the view. I love my home. And my backyard.

The entire area is speckled with quartz.
In between sunsets, the temperatures change dramatically.

In fact, our last night in Quartzsite, it dropped to 28 degrees. Brrrr! Running the heater on high that night didn't help much - even our bottles of water under the bed iced over a little. And, I caught a cold. I've spent the last few days here in Ehrenberg recuperating. And, as is always true, I've had a little help from my friends.

Barbara loaned me a space blanket to wrap around my air mattress, and Fred loaned me a queen comforter to wrap around - well, everything. The extra layers helped immensely so even if it drops to the 20s again, the furbabies and I will be ready. Bryce cooked homemade chicken soup for me yesterday. Yummy! He tells everyone in camp that it was his soup that made me better. He may be right. It was that good.

While I have been holed up in the van, most of the caravan members have been making trips to town. I was aware that I was growing increasingly concerned that they would all finish their errands before I got well. Sure enough, this morning, I was told everyone is staying in camp for a few days. Unfortunately for me, at minimum, I will need water before next week. So my concern this morning grew to fear and was headed toward becoming a full blown panic attack when I realized I needed to stop. Just stop. Breathe. And meditate.

You might be wondering what the big deal is. Well, normally, it's not a big deal, but something about being sick made me feel vulnerable and alone - even though I had wonderful people looking out for me. That feeling grew into something that made me scared to go to town alone.

It's one thing to get in the van and head west from TX to AZ. That was a straight shot and I did that fairly easily. It is towns where traffic and the motion can cause me to have seizures or symptoms. Plus I had not been to this town before. And, I had not left this camp before. In fact, it occurred to me that since leaving Texas on October 8, I have not had to navigate in a new town on my own at all. Someone has always been with me to show me the ropes.

The thought of going to a new town by myself for the first time petrified me. Actually, it paralyzed me, but we have to have water, I need to do laundry, and go grocery shopping. So I began my morning meditation to try and "conquer" the fear. It wasn't working. I wasn't able to slow my thoughts or my breathing or my heart rate. My palms were still sweating.

I decided to do something else for awhile, and I reviewed my friend's weekly article. His opening paragraphs are about fear. Isn't that awe-mazing? I love how Spirit shows up in our lives. You can read his article (here), and this is one of the sentences that helped me calm down and start connecting: "When we are in fear, there is no clarity because there is no conscious connection with Spirit."

Thank you, David Howard. After I finished his article I was able to meditate and eventually (by mid-afternoon, grin), make my way to town. The guys in camp all let me know that they would be standing by and I could call anytime if I needed help, but they were purposefully not offering to go with me because they also wanted me to know that I could make the trek to-and-from camp on my own.

Earlier that morning, when I had realized I was on my own (before being able to pray and meditate), I was hurt and even somewhat angry that no one was available to go with me. Several had said they would be, whenever I was ready, so where were they when I needed them? I had a ton of judgments going on in my head, but I know when there is one finger pointed out, there are 3 more pointing back at me. I knew the problem was within. I just didn't recognize it as fear at first.

What I got in touch with is that I am terrified I am not going to be able to make it on my own out here. One of the advantages to being a vandweller is that we can turn the key anytime we want, and move. Only I tend to get stuck. I start thinking about all the "what ifs". What if I need to drive to town and can't? What if I'm not always able to travel with people that can and are willing to help me? What if I can't do this and I end up in assisted living? Instead of staying in the moment, and staying connected with Allness, I drive myself crazy over future "what ifs."

Again, from my friend's article: "I was comforted by the gentle reminder that I do not have to figure it out. All the worry and struggle .... is the ego's way of keeping me caught up in the idea of an 'I' that is separate."

My friends did me a favor by not being available today. (Thank you, Spirit.) Earlier this morning, when I admitted I was afraid, my sweet friend from Ethiopia, Ray, asked what he could do to help. Which, before I could even reply, he immediately followed up with, "Other than go with you. Because I really think this is something you need to try and do on your own." Yes, Ray. Thank you. I was getting that loud and clear from the entire universe.

I explained that I did not know how to find the road. From where I parked, it was not readily apparent. And that was embarrassing for me to admit because I clearly drove to my campsite just 4 days ago, but finding my way back to the road was a different story. Once he understood my dilemma, he patiently walked with me from my van all the way to the road, step-by-step, literally. Grace made that walk with us and I felt completely loved and supported in every way. A great peace came over me. I know I am blessed. We all are actually, even when we're not in touch with the knowing. That same grace, love, support, peace and blessedness is always, always, always there.

I was finally ready, and eventually made the drive to town by myself. It was so late in the afternoon I didn't really get anything done, but I scouted everything out. I drove there successfully and made my way back okay. What a celebration! Coming back, I was stopped by another caravan member (staying at a different campsite), and was told that I was on the wrong road. I made a quick call to our campsite and Bryce drove down to lead me in. Turns out, I was on the right road after all. If I had trusted, and listened to Spirit, really listened - I would have known that.

Still, the outing was a huge success. I will go back tomorrow and get my laundry done, and collect water. I'm not going to worry about grocery shopping. That will have to wait for another day, and I don't have to figure it out. I am not separate. I am One with all that has ever been, all that will ever be, and all that already is. So are you. We are One. There is nothing to fear.

In our camp, whoever wants to, gathers at a specific rig each evening around 4:00 to visit for awhile before the sun goes down. We call it "Happy Hour" and it is just that - an hour of happiness. We laugh, we celebrate, we exchange ideas and information. I thanked them tonight for the opportunity they gave me to be courageous.

As I watched the sunset tonight, I listened to Michael Gott's song, "Nearer Than the Air." I am no longer able to sign the song in its entirety, but that didn't stop me from celebrating. With tears flowing I closed the day with no fear. I felt only love and gratitude for this blessed life I lead in Oneness.


  1. the photos are beautiful, i like the one you put together to show the beauty and vastness of where you are staying. i have to tell you that i have the what if fears and i don't have the injury you have or the seizures. i coudl never do what you are doing, make that would never do. i could llive in the van with no trouble but not traveling around from place to place. my thoughts are enjoy this while you can and try not to think of the times you will not be able to. my fears of driving control my whole life, and that is in town driving and driving and hour a way

    1. Sandra, I see you as so courageous and living life fully. You find joy and beauty everywhere you go and have such a talent for sharing that with the world. Thank you for being you. I am definitely enjoying this while I can, and am trying every day to stay more and more present in each moment. I understand your fear of driving and am sad it controls you but am also celebrating the fun things you and your hubby often go do. Thank you for sharing your world with your readers. Keep in mind we only moved 20 miles down the road. I know you could do this, or anything, if you wanted to. You are amazing!

  2. I am happy to help you. I didn't know that you were afraid. But you made it to town on your own. You are strong and capable. Bless You
    Your friend Bryce

    1. Thank you, Bryce! - for all the help and support, and great food & company, and for taking the time to comment on my blog. I enjoy learning from all you guys and I am def more capable thanks to the great folk in our community. HugZ to you my friend!

  3. It has been my experience that very few of the things I've worried about ever came to pass, and that worry would have had no effect on the handful of things that did happen. I know TBI can mess with how one perceives and processes situations, but it might help if you could develop the general outlook that things will work out fine.

    1. Thank you, Al! And absolutely, I agree 100%. It is always best to expect good things to happen and anticipate positive outcomes. My life is an example of that. I rarely get tripped up anymore, but this one was a doozy. Thanks for being here & leaving a comment! I hope to see you again soon, d


I love to hear from my wonderful readers.
Please subscribe! Thank you!

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.