Dear friends,
I hope you've been finding time to be outside and take in the sunshine and the lovely autumn air.
In addition to the season, there has been so much transition happening in the external world that it might feel as though there is an internal weight taking hold of our hearts, minds, and bodies as we attempt to adjust and align with the spinning energies around and within us. I know that I have been struggling to focus and center myself- it's so easy to feel adrift amidst all the shifts in the Universe.
For the last few days, I have been preparing for a presentation on Blawesome and Social Care Farming for the Carolina Farm Stewardship Association’s annual sustainable agriculture conference. And one bit of quantitative data I always like to include is how, in the eight years since we started the farm, Raimee, who had previously been having at least one grand mal seizure a month, has only had one- total- since we started the farm in 2016. (And this took place in the airport, following a hasty departure from Orlando in March 2020, when everything around us was shutting down and we flew home on an empty airplane, full of anxiety about what was to come. Anxiety is a big trigger for Raimee, when it comes to seizures, so this should have come as no surprise. But to anyone who’s ever had the unfortunate experience of watching a loved one in the throes of a massive seizure, it’s always a surprise, and a really, really hard one to witness.) And so it happened, on Thursday, September 26, while the western part of the state was being completely devastated by the impacts of Hurricane Helene, that I found myself holding my son in his state of distress, completely helpless to offer comfort to him in his moment of need.
He made it through, as he always does. And, surprisingly, given the intensity of this episode, he bounced back faster than ever, regaining his language, movement, and energy within a few hours. Still, it was unsettling enough to stir up a flood of old worries I thought we’d left behind. This experience reminded me, in a deeply visceral way, just how powerfully anxiety can show up in our bodies. It’s no coincidence that Raimee’s last two seizures happened during times of profound societal and environmental upheaval. I believe he operates on a vibrational frequency that is finely tuned to the world around him, and his body has learned to process and release his fears and anxieties in ways that match the weight of his own stress—and perhaps even the stress of the world.
As I sit with these thoughts, I realize how I’ve somehow managed, with my words, to idealize our farm work, pairing it alongside an ever lovely and harmonious soundtrack that projects images of sunshine, warm breezes, and beautiful miracles. While this version of the life we live and the work we do holds true in many ways, there’s also a deep sense of apprehension and unease within the earth itself. We see this reflected in the powerful and often violent signals reminding us that our presence, interference, and manipulation of natural resources are creating a terrible imbalance. Temperatures are rising, snowfall and rainfall patterns are shifting, and extreme climate events—heavy rainstorms, record-high temperatures, devastating wildfires—are now all too common. Many of these changes are closely linked to increased levels of greenhouse gases from human activities, and we are witnessing weather patterns that are becoming more severe and intense. Our planet can only handle so much anxiety before it feels overcome with a need to let us know that things are actually not okay.
Our family, friends, and support networks will tend to Raimee, and love him and care for him as he creates greater distance between himself and his seizures. We will modify his environment, listen more attentively to the things he is not saying, and work harder to explain situations and experiences he may not understand. And we will pray, collectively, that as a global community we can find ways to listen more conscientiously to the land, air, and water that hold and sustain us… that we can be mindful of the pain within our planet, and take steps to practice care and restore a deeper and more intentional connection, without waiting for the next catastrophic episode to propel us towards action.
We are all affected. My hope is that we can come together in the most holistic way possible to show care for ourselves, hold tight to each other, and find ways to bring blessings upon this amazing big ball we all call home.
With love,
Rebecca, Raimee, and the Blawesome Family
May you never place walls between the light and yourself
May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world to gather you
Mind you and embrace you in belonging.
~John O'Donohue