 Purple Gems-Santa Rosa Plums This summer has been a glorious invitation to immerse outside in the magnificent nature here in Southern Oregon. Our summer's moderate temperatures and clear air lasted all the way until the third week of August. I cherish all the time I had to explore and play in the outdoors. Until just a couple weeks ago, it felt like the summers of past, before we began experiencing extreme heat, drought and wildfire smoke.  Delightful Summer 2023 This blog is about fruit, not about wildfires. Fruit coming out of our ears, filling our bellies and spilling out the door. The fruit trees first said hello in early July as I walked home from the nearby grower's market while taking a short-cut through our neighborhood common space. The space is a well-tended lush green area with a lovely small pond, surrounded by magnificent old willow trees. Being at the pond feels like pure magic. Still quite new to the neighborhood, I was exploring and finding much joy in watching the baby ducklings gliding through the water and colorful dragonflies flitting about. The pond is surrounded by and lined with perennial flowers, herbs, reeds, mint, cattails and long-established willow trees. On this particular day I was captivated by the deep blues and reds of the dragonflies, landing on the flowers and water plants. I watched as a family of baby ducklings swam in formation from one side of the pond to the other, escorted by mama duck; all dipping their heads in the water and stopping along the way to rest. On the south side of the pond a large Mulberry Tree hung heavy with ripe berries; many dropping to the ground and on an old picnic table below. Birds flocked to the tree, popping fat berries into their beaks. The beauty and wildlife at the pond helped me slow down and feel the wild aliveness all around.  Pond Life - Ashland, Oregon I continued walking home with my bag of fresh produce and crossed over the water on the second of two-foot bridges. As I stepped off the bridge, I noticed a tree rooted and hanging over the pond, filled with dark red shiny cherries. It looked as if no one had been picking the cherries, not even the birds. I easily reached up and picked a clump of ripe cherries and popped one in my mouth experiencing a delicious burst of sweetness. I immediately texted my partner, Johan, who had lived in the neighborhood for years and asked him if the cherry tree by the pond was for any of the neighbors to pick from. He replied with a question, "There's a cherry tree near the pond?" I knew immediately why no one was picking any cherries. It seemed likely that no one spent much time at the pond other than using it as a neighborhood short cut. I have spent much of my life slowing down, stopping, sitting, observing and loving nature. From the time I was a young child, my dad took me into the woods to forage for wild black raspberries, blackberries, elderberries and Morel Mushrooms. My senses wake up when I'm in the natural world. I especially love foraging for fruit and berries in wild places. As I continued on my short walk home, my mental mind was speaking loudly inside my head-"red cherries"; "cherry tree"; "beautiful"; "lots of them"; "sweet"; " large"; "ripe"; "full red clumps"; "gotta pick"; "bake pie.". I arrived home; put the produce away; grabbed Johan and we headed to the pond with some containers and a step ladder. We picked about 6 pounds of cherries. Being a forester and tree propagator for decades, Johan was trying to figure out how he had missed that tree before now. To be fair, fruit trees can often have many seasons when they don't bear much fruit at all, or the birds get all of it before the humans even see it.  Sweet Dark Red Cherries Photo Credit: Syd.ozter The next day, while at the pond following my sit-spot practice, I discovered a second cherry tree not far from the first, also close to the water. This tree had also been over-looked by the rest of the neighbors and was bursting with even more cherries than the first. Its location offered much easier picking. I once again headed home and enlisted Johan who eagerly joined me with containers and the step ladder for more cherry picking. The thing about fruit picking is that you have to keep picking when the fruit is ripe before it falls to the ground. Over a period of a week, we picked about 20 pounds of sweet, dark cherries. It was a bounty year for the two cherry trees next to the pond and we were grateful to enjoy the delectable cherries through mid-July and froze many for future use. Following the July cherry harvest came an abundance of plums. In early August, we went to check on two plum trees we had been aware of for years and they too were having a bounty year. On the first evening we ventured out to look for any ripe fruit, we found full branches hanging heavy with plump, deep purple, Santa Rosa Plums. The plums were juicy, sweet jewels with scores of them ripe for eating and picking. That first evening we picked about 20 pounds. We continued to pick in the evenings when the temperatures dropped after sunset. In the golden evening light, the plums were shining like treasure. Their skins were cool and smooth to the touch-some still a bit hard, some just on the edge of turning ripe and pounds of them ready to pick and eat off the tree. The first bite into the reddish-purple fruit brought a tart and tangly explosion, followed immediately by the satisfying rich, sweet and juicy inner golden flesh.  Santa Rosa Plum Tree Altogether we made 4 trips to the tree to harvest plums. On the first three trips we used the car in anticipation of many plums to bring home. We packed the plums from our 4th trip on the back of our bikes. With each picking, we gravitated toward picking areas between the two trees. Sometimes requiring some tree climbing, stretching way up to high branches, difficult to access. It often took team work to gently pull the full branches a little lower while one of us picked the dense clumps of plums. In over two weeks of picking, we harvested close to 70 pounds of plums and washed the equivalent of numerous smashed, fallen plums off the soles of our boots.  "Plum-mobile" Blix Electric Bike We turned our dining room table into a plum sorting station. Using different sized bowls, plums were sorted into ripe, almost ripe and still in need of more ripening. Some plums went right to the fridge and throughout the day we would gently palpate the plums, transferring newly softened plums into the fridge. Day after day we ate the perfectly ripe plums, unable to resist the sweet fruit. The plums were extremely juicy so my preferred method of eating them was hanging my head over the sink, so my first bite didn't squirt across the kitchen. Over the past month I often noticed Johan with something inside one cheek or the other. He was eating plums and sucking on a pit in his cheek until he got every last bit of the sweet fruit.  Freezing Santa Rosa Plums Initially we pitted and froze 3 gallons of plums. Next came a batch of Tart Plum Sauce. The sauce tastes very similar to cranberry sauce. Johan was eating it as a condiment on everything, even granola. As more plums joined our sorting table, we divided the ripening plums into brown paper bags gifting them to neighbors and friends. We spent one morning on our bikes, delivering the bags to friends and the next day dropping off plums to neighbors.  With many plums still left we needed to do more preserving. When our neighbor, Carolyn, gifted us with some ripe figs from her tree, Johan was right on it, making a fig-plum conserve. When the smoke arrived and settled into the valley in late August, it was the perfect time for staying inside and putting up more plums. We were down to our last big bowl of ripe, fresh plums. and it was the perfect time to finally jump on the brilliant suggestion my daughter, Ailee, shared with me a couple years ago. Due to my tomato allergy, Ailee suggested I substitute plums and make a "no tomato" plum marinara sauce. It was so exciting to finally be doing it!  "Nomato" Plum Marinara Sauce I used the last of our plums along with fresh herbs and spices and cooked it all down into a delicious pot of gorgeous, deep red, plum marinara. For this project, Johan offered to pit the 5 pounds of plums, approximately 50 plums. We each have our own prep areas when we cook together. At one point, as I was mincing garlic and chopping onion, it was extremely quiet over at Johan's counter. I looked over and saw him slicing plums very methodically, filling his cutting board with beautiful slices of the golden-purple fruit. I also saw that Johan's cheek was plumped out, likely sucking on a plum pit. Once he discarded the pit into the compost bucket and could talk, Johan explained, "Sucking on 5 pounds of plum pits is comparable to eating about 2 whole plums."  "Nomato" Plum Marinara Prep Within days of making the plum marinara we were finally down to our last pound of fresh plums. It was about 10 PM and I'd just turned off my computer, having just finished editing most of the recipes for this blog and suddenly realized we needed to make the last of the plums into fresh salsa before they got any riper. We were back in the kitchen for some late-night chopping and slicing, making a batch of fresh plum salsa. I didn't think anything could beat mango salsa, but the plums won out. The following morning, we shared our last two fresh purple gems from our harvest. It has been a month of picking, eating, preparing, loud belly laughing and living and breathing plums-all in deep gratitude, fun, joy and delight.  Plum Paradise Recipes: Tart Plum Sauce Approximately 4 pounds of ripe Santa Rosa plums 1 to 2 heaping tbs honey (adjust based on sweetness of your plums) 2 tbs chia seeds Optional: lemon juice to taste for a tarter sauce Pit and cut plums into small pieces. Heat to a simmer, plums will release juice. Cook on low heat for 30-40 minutes until there are no more plum chunks, stirring every few minutes. Take off heat and stir in chia seeds and lemon juice. Add honey to taste after the sauce has cooled a bit. Chill. Makes 2 pints. Store in refrigerator or freeze. Delicious on toast, ice cream, chicken or anything.  Tart Plum Sauce Fig/Plum Conserve 2 pounds ripe figs 2 pounds ripe Santa Rosa plums 1/4 cup lemon juice 2 tbs chia seeds De-stem and cut figs into small pieces. Pit and cut plums into small pieces. Bring to simmer and cook with low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 45 minutes. When fruit is soft, use a potato masher to create a smooth texture. Take off heat and add lemon juice and chia seeds. Makes 2 pints. Store in fridge or freeze. Use as you would any jam or preserves.  Fig-Plum Conserve "Nomato" Plum Marinara Sauce This sauce is a game-changer for anyone who cannot eat tomatoes or nightshades. "Nomato" Plum Marinara tastes like a traditional tomato marinara sauce. The color is a delightful, rich, deep red and while it is cooking, the kitchen is filled with the aroma of rich tomato sauce. It looks and tastes more like a classic marinara sauce than the red pepper-based, romesco sauce I often use as a substitute. It is delicious. My basic recipe below uses 5 pounds of Santa Rosa plums and makes about 10-11 cups of sauce. Adjust the spices to your personal taste. Each plum variety is different in in sweetness and tartness. This recipe uses Santa Rosa Purple Plums. Adjust your ingredient amounts as needed depending on what variety of plums you use. You'll need to add certain ingredients to help cut down the plum's sweetness to achieve the taste of a marinara. As I experimented, I discovered that the addition of extra sea salt, lemon juice, tamari and lemon rind did the trick- add the above slowly until you achieve the taste you are looking for. If you you cook your plums down and the marinara is too tart, add honey or preferred sweetener to taste as well as adjusting all other spices as needed. 5 Pounds Red or Purple plums, washed, pitted, sliced 2 Tablespoons-white rice wine vinegar 1/4-1/3 cup lemon juice (adjust up or down to taste) 1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil- be generous 1 medium onion, chopped 2 stalks celery, thinly sliced Lemon Zest- from 1/2 -whole lemon 8 cloves garlic, minced 1/2 cup fresh parsley leaves 1/4 cup fresh oregano leaves 1 Teas. dried Oregano 12 Fresh Basil Leaves 2 Tablespoons Tamari 1-2 Tbs Sea Salt (add more as needed to cut sweetness) Sauté onion, celery, garlic, parsley and spices in large pot in about 2 Tablespoons Olive Oil. When Onion and celery are soft and onion is transparent, add the pitted plums and allow mixture to simmer on low heat, stirring frequently until plums and all other ingredients have broken down. With an immersion blender (or food processor), puree mixture until smooth. Once all is blended: Add: Salt to taste. Tamari Rice Wine Vinegar Lemon Zest- begin with zest of 1/2 lemon and more if needed. Black Pepper to taste Allow sauce to simmer for desired consistency and flavor. Use fresh from the pot or freeze for later use.  "Nomato" Plum Marinara Sauce Fresh Plum Salsa Blend all together in a small bowl and chill: One Pound Fresh Santa Rosa Purple Plums- pitted and cut into small pieces One generous cup finely chopped red onion One finely chopped Medium Serrano or Jalapeño Pepper (Jalapeno is spicier) 1/2 Cup Fresh Lime Juice 6 Tablespoons Chopped Cilantro Sea Salt to Taste Fine tune as you like for flavor.  Fresh Plum Salsa
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 Blue Elderberry I began searching for elderberry bushes and harvesting their berries when I was 10 years old, in drainage ditches where they grew together along country roads in Council Bluffs, Iowa. My first forays for elderberries were with my father and sisters. By mid to late September, often at the same time as The Jewish New Year, the berries were ripe and ready for harvest. Many of my memories of picking elderberries are of breaking free into the warm autumn sunshine after a long morning of sitting indoors at the synagogue for Rosh Hashanah services. We'd eat a holiday meal at home or with relatives and then eagerly head out to gather berries. My sister's and I and our father would grab some large brown paper grocery bags and garden clippers and drive to a country road in the east hills of Council Bluffs where we found a favorite elderberry patch. We'd fill our bags with large clumps of reddish-purple berries, hanging heavy on bright red stems and bring them home to my mom and also my grandma Sylvia who was often part of our jelly making process. We'd all help clean and de-stem the berries before squishing them through cheese cloth to get all the juice into a large pot for cooking the batch of jelly- adding just the right amount of sugar and pectin for thickening the tart berry juice as it cooked down.  Blue Elderberrie & Rose Hips Cooking "I loved my mother's delicious elderberry jam, berry pies and earthy tasting sautéed Morels. Though, each time we ate the mushrooms my mom was on high alert; her adrenaline rushing; expecting to rush us to the emergency room-poisoned by the nourishing, heavenly mushrooms she'd just cooked for us. Mom never ate the wild mushrooms." At that point in my life I knew nothing about wild crafting herbs nor had I any knowledge of which herbs and foods found in nature might be used to support health and wellness. I did know that I loved foraging close to home for elderberries in the autumn; black raspberries in summer and Morel mushrooms and wild asparagus in the spring. The Morels and wild asparagus often popped up around May Day each year when we also picked violets for our May baskets. I loved my mother's delicious elderberry jam, berry pies and earthy tasting sautéed Morels. Though, each time we ate the mushrooms my mom was on high alert; her adrenaline rushing; expecting to rush us to the emergency room-poisoned by the nourishing, heavenly mushrooms she'd just cooked for us. Mom never ate the wild mushrooms. When my sister, Heidi, was old enough to drive and I was a young teen, we went berry picking without our father on a warm autumn afternoon. While driving home with our overflowing bags of elderberries. a huge Wolf Spider popped out of one of the bags of berries onto the back seat, just inches from us. We were screaming as Heidi, pulled the car over and parked. We spilled out of the car in seconds and knocked on the door of a nearby home, asking to use their phone (this was about 30 years before cell phones were in use). One of us made the call and my dad arrived shortly, rescuing us from the spider in the back seat of our tiny Fiat. He shooed the large spider out of the car with part of his Sunday newspaper and off we went, terrified to ever gather elderberries again.  Elderberry, rose hips, ginger, cinnamon & cloves. It was in Oregon, years later, that my real education in herbs, plant medicine and nutrition began. It was here where elderberry syrup or tincture became a staple in my herb and supplement cabinet for year round immune support. In Oregon it was extremely easy to find elderberry syrup in one of the numerous food co-ops or natural food stores, I was content to buy it off the shelf. Something big changed for me during the early days of The Pandemic-though nature was a huge piece of my world and work, I found myself in the woods more than ever and at the same time upped my self care practices-every aspect of self care; physical, emotional, nutritional, spiritual and environmental. With the world slowed down, I dropped into slow time and noticed many details around me that I'd overlooked in the past. One day in late September of 2020, on a walk through the neighborhood, I noticed an elderberry bush dripping with ripe berries and the sight of the tree transported me back to my childhood. I knocked on the door of the home where the tree lived and asked the owner if I might harvest some of her berries if she wasn't using them. She told me to take as many as I'd like as she didn't pick them. I returned a little later with my clippers and a bag and was back at it. It had been 50 years since I'd last harvested elderberries and this time, with an intention to make a batch of elderberry syrup. In this part of Southern Oregon, many elderberry varieties are blue instead of the typical black. The blue drought-tolerant variety thrive in our hot and dry climate. Blue elderberries (Sambucus cerulea) are similar to black elderberries (Sambucus nigra). I gathered enough berries for a large batch of syrup; thanked the beautiful tree and left a good amount of berries for the birds. As I walked home with my full bag, for just a moment I had an image of the Wolf Spider from my childhood but quickly let it fade away.  Elderberries and rose hips -transformation I made my first batch of elderberry syrup from a recipe a friend shared with me. The batch was big, tasty and lasted for months. In fact, it lasted so long that it was fermented by the time I got close to finishing it. I used a small amount each day and have had elderberry, well-known as an ant-viral, in my daily regimen every since early 2020. I found the first batch of syrup and the batch that followed the next season to be tasty but very watery. I desired the thick syrupy texture I had been used to from herbal farms such as Gaia Herbs or Herb Pharm. This past autumn, I once again harvested elderberries from the same tree and shared in the medicine making process with my friend, Johan, who was all in for this project. I harvested the berries and delivered them to Johan to prep and freeze. A common method to de-stem the berries is simply by freezing them in a bag, causing the berries to fall from their stems easily on their own, once frozen. Johan, in his love for small seeds and berries and from his years of experience gathering seeds and propagating conifer trees for The Forest Service, chose to meticulously remove the tiny elderberries from their stems, carefully removing any bit of tree duff or tiny bugs before freezing them.  Blue Elderberries Photo Credit: https://practicalselfreliance.com/foraging-elderberries/ Early on I felt the plant and human synergy as we worked as a team-researching and adapting a recipe to make a concentrated thick syrup. We looked at a recipe shared last fall by our friend, Julia Plevin Oliansky, which inspired us to use rose hips in addition to the elderberries. Julia's recipe used dried elderberries and we were working with fresh frozen berries. The proportions of berries and water change depending on if you use dried, fresh or frozen berries. I found a recipe using fresh frozen elderberries which we then adapted by adding rose hips and tweaking the water content as well as the honey. We initially added too many rose-hips for our batch and quickly discovered the natural pectin in the rose hip skins was a powerful thickening agent, so we decreased the amount in the recipe that follows. Rose hips are rich in vitamin C and natural pectin for thickening and it takes very few to get the thickening effect. We gathered the fresh rose hips from my rose bush. They have a sweet and tangy tartness and are full of anti-oxidants.. I scribbled the finished recipe out in my almost illegible printing which Johan proceeded to carefully type out.  Squeezing warm Berry Pulp through a Nut Seed Bag Next, we chose a day to get together and make the syrup. A perfect project for the dark short days of winter. Johan thawed the berries early in the day and I brought the rose hips; the spices and a large, heavy pot. Our collaboration took me back to all the years I spent as a pastry chef in professional kitchens with the whole crew working together. Over the years I have been working on my own with the harvested plants as well as doing lots of cooking and baking which I find quite therapeutic, creative and fun. This collaboration with a kitchen partner reminded me of my childhood, making elderberry jelly with a full crew in our family's kitchen, each of us taking part at some level. The collaboration created an exponential sense of connection between human and plant and human-human-plant connection. It reminded me of the magic that happens on a forest therapy walk between the different human participants connecting with one another and all the living nature beings, relating and sharing in unique ways; each time different than the last.  Trading off squeezing Elderberry Rose Hip Pulp The longer I have related to the natural world, I've found it spilling into all of my life, especially in the form of sensory experience. Making the elderberry syrup was quite an immersion of the senses. The senses of taste, sight, smell, hearing and feeling were all engaged. The smell of the spices and the simmering pot of berries, blended together and created a fragrant forest in the kitchen. The magnificent deep blue berries and red rose hips cooking down and changing color by the moment, transported us into the simmering pot-the plants pulling us into their alchemical mix as they became something new. Through our human-plant collaboration we witnessed nature revealing her power as Earth matter shapeshifting through human-plant relation and intention.  Blending Raw Honey into warm Elderberry Rose Hip Syrup The berries, steaming and simmering away in the pot were deep in an alchemical dance, melting into a new expression or their former selves. The heat and steam from the fragrant pot drifted over our hands and faces offering a potent sense bath. The longer the berries simmered the more grounded and present we became-no longer simply the cooks, observers and planners but an integral part of a newly formed relationship between nature beings and human beings.  One of 2 jars of Elderberry Rose Hip Syrup When the berry-spice concoction had cooled and the warm pulp was squeezed and strained through the mesh bag, I was really excited to add the honey and do a taste test. By this time, our hands were coated in shining purple juice. When we mixed the raw honey into the warm, thick liquid and tasted the sweet, tart syrup, I felt the whole process settle into my cells. From our original intention to find elderberries to the very first sighting of them on the tree; to the now thick, sweet, purple, jeweled liquid coating on our hands and dripping down our chins, a sense of deep joy was palpable. In that moment in the kitchen, there was simply the experience of nature-relation- elderberries, rose-hips, honey, spices and humans, transformed through intention, connection and creative action. Each time I taste a spoonful of the elderberry-rose hip syrup, I drop right back into the embodied experience of the herbal alchemy created in a warm kitchen on a cold winter afternoon. Lip Licking-Finger Dripping Elderberry-Rose Hip Syrup Ingredients: 6 Cups Fresh or Frozen Black or Blue Elderberries 30 Rose Hips- fresh or semi-dried from the bush 1 Cup Raw Local Honey 2 Cups Water (add extra water as needed/f needed) 2 Heaping Tablespoons Raw Fresh Ginger-grated 1 Teaspoon Whole Cloves 1.5 Teaspoons Powdered Cinnamon Equipment: Large stock pot Grater Flat End Wooden Spoon Fine-holed Potato Masher Rubber Spatula Nut Milk Bag or Cheese Cloth Metal Mesh Wire Strainer Measuring Cups (Dry and Liquid) Bowl to squeeze juice through Seed Bag Glass Storage Jars for about 3 cups of syrup Method: Combine stemmed berries and rose hips with water in stock pot. Stir and bring to a simmer. Adjust heat for mixture to continuously simmer but do not boil. Press your flat ended wooden spoon to the bottom of your pot and measure how high the mixture is on the spoon-such as an inch deep or whatever it measures. Stir in grated ginger, cloves and cinnamon. Continue simmering, stirring the mixture as needed. When mixture thickens, begin to scrape the sides of the pot down with the flat end of your wooden spoon and occasionally gently stir. When the fruit is soft, use your fine holed potato masher to mash the berries in the pot. As the mixture simmers down and the water content lessens, measure again with the wooden spoon. When it has cooked down by half, remove from heat. The simmering process could take anywhere from 30 to 45 minutes or so. Make sure to remove from the heat as soon as the volume of the mixture has gone down by half. Squeezing: When your berry mixture has cooled enough to handle, place your nut milk bag or cheese cloth over the fine meshed sieve, over a medium sized bowl. Scrape warm berries into the mesh bag. Once the bag is filled, squeeze the berry-filled bag, gently, until you have gotten as much juice as you can from the berry pulp. Be careful to not pop the bag, turning it to different sides as you squeeze. Once all the liquid is squeezed into the bowl, measure out your honey and gently whisk into the berry juice. Adjust your honey amount to your personal taste. After licking your fingers and washing your purple stained hands (and face), pour the syrup into your glass jar(s). It is helpful to use a jar you can dip a teaspoon into, to take out a single serving at a time. Refrigerate. It should keep for a good three months or more in the fridge. Yields: approximately 25 oz. of syrup  Staining from Straining Elderberry Syrup The Liminality of Grief: Befriending The Unknown through Radical Rest, Self-care & Forgiveness11/5/2022  Stones at my Father's Grave This past year has been filled with unknowns and the deepest grief I've ever experienced. It's been an extremely challenging time of much inner and outer growth, bringing surprises, life-affirming gifts and transformation. This year has been a culmination; the end of a story; the story of my parent's lives in Oregon for the past 20 years. This time has also marked for me an end and a new beginning for myself. This ending and new beginning is something I still am melding and moving through. So, I'll use one of my most potent self-care tools and do what I do; I'll write it and I'll edit it for hours and days until I've sculpted the story and etched it energetically in my heart, mind and soul. For decades, writing has been a love of mine and my passion for teaching and for self-care has launched me on a path as a Healer and Wellness Educator. I love writing about my life and work. Over the years through my own healing path, I have fully embraced nature and energy practices as potent tools for wellness. When my work came to a sudden halt during The Pandemic, so did much of my writing spark. In early 2020 the day the state of Oregon locked down, my elderly parents moved into a nearby retirement community. With Covid regulations, it was months before I could enter their apartment. My focus was managing their connection to the outside world and their medical needs such as trips to the emergency room, falls or a sudden collapse which became common for them when medical access was suddenly limited. One day early in The Pandemic my dad's doctor actually walked over to the parking lot of their retirement community and in the back seat of my car palpated my father's lower abdomen. For my dad, it seemed it had come down to getting his medical care in the backseat of a 2007 Honda Fit. With my parents many needs and my work suddenly on pause, I pieced together a new life. Besides stepping into a role as caregiver for my parents, I prioritized tending to my own needs for stress regulation as I grieved the loss of my work, the state of humanity and the planet. At that time when the planes were grounded and the roads were empty, I actually rejoiced in the quiet streets, the silent, clear blue skies and the gentle life of the forest, suddenly reclaimed by residents of The More Than Human World. There were few humans to be found in the woods then. I still smile with memories of squirrels and ducks pattering along the many trails, long used by humans. They seemed to know we humans were taking a pause.  Empty Trails at Lithia Park, Ashland, Oregon Spring 2020 In the past years, in Southern Oregon, the severe drought has intensified and summer and fall wild fires have become the new normal. On September 8, 2020, The Almeda Fire which started a mile from my home, raced through our valley destroying close to 3000 structures, leaving thousands homeless. Our community stress levels skyrocketed with high anxiety, overwhelm and PTSD from evacuation and loss of homes and livelihood. It was terribly frightening. Many have since relocated. I have relocated twice since 2019 in reaction to the climate disaster here and each time have ended up like a boomerang, back to my "village" of Ashland. My community ties of 40 years are so strong it's been almost impossible to leave my people and the land I love as well as my then, aging parents. During The Almeda Fire they too were evacuated and quite traumatized. One year later after another summer of extreme heat and smoke, I relocated to Portland in September 2021 and traveled to Ashland every month to tend to my parent's needs. I finally gave it up and came home after 4 months. I acknowledged that Southern Oregon for now is truly home, even with the environmental disasters. My parents were managing well, even with my mom's dementia and had moved to an assisted living apartment in 2021. I made the move back from Portland in time for my mom's 90th birthday last January. Ten days later my dad reported not feeling well. After blood work and an echo cardiogram, it was clear that his heart failure had progressed to a new level. I somehow had received an intuitive call to return from Portland even before this news. The cardiologist told me and my sister's he'd never seen a heart so bad in a patient who was still alive. My dad who was convinced at age 94 that he would live to be at least 110, reluctantly signed the intake forms to go on Hospice in early March. We thought he might have a month left. My parents stayed in their apartment with the facility staff, private care givers and help from me as well as Hospice. My dad was very concerned for my mother since he was her anchor and first line caregiver. My mom fully depended on him. During my dad's Hospice journey, though he mostly slept, his presence alone anchored my mom. I was with them often. As my dad's condition progressed, they both needed more care. My dad was so stubborn and so convinced he'd never die that he almost convinced me and his friends as well.  Maynard- a twinkle in his eye to the end. "Once my dad woke up when his Hospice nurse arrived and spoke with her about the light he was seeing as he looked out their sliding door. Dad said, "It feels like this light is here now to stay." At the same visit my dad described to Molly how he had felt like he was dying the previous night. I asked him how it felt and in his Iowa inflection, he said, "Pretty good." This was all happening to a man who had been terrified of death and had described it for years as, "Nothing but blackness." Now on his Hospice journey my dad was discovering a new reality with open curiosity and trust." My father had no spiritual beliefs though he was culturally Jewish. He had mainly attended synagogue services at my mom's behest or for the socializing and food. He had been terrified of death for as long as I can remember. Knowing this, I was quite surprised when he was gifted with a very unusual 3.5 month Hospice journey. Increasingly, my dad spent much time in deep sleeps-sometimes in bed with my mom or both of them awake, chatting and cuddling and most often in his recliner during the day. Many times I arrived as they were both waking up around noon and my dad was sharing with my mom where he had been and who he had seen during his "sleep." He would wake during the day after a long sleep, saying, "I'm not sure if I'm dead or alive." My dad shared these experiences with me, describing what I think of as journeying, in rich and vivid detail. It was different than his waking reality and by no means a typical dream. It was so real that he remembered and described the details for weeks. Many times when his Hospice nurse, Molly, visited, he shared these experiences with her. After this happened the first few times, Molly said, "Maynard, it sounds like you may be traveling between worlds." My dad said, "I think I am." He shared about our ancestors who were communicating with him. Often he described his mother and his brothers and sister being present or having spoken to them. Sometimes he would talk to me and my mother thinking my mom was his mother. My mom was not happy about that. My dad was often disoriented during this time, not knowing where he was. Once he told me it seemed like the furniture in their apartment didn't belong to them and that it felt like we were in a store of some kind. More than once he recounted how he almost fell but the most beautiful, shining and loving woman he'd ever seen stopped his fall. My dad was very impressed by her, stating he had never felt so much love. Many times he talked to me and my mom about "the train" he was seeing out the back window, saying, "It feels like we're in a train station." or "It feels like we should be leaving soon." or "Do you see the building across the courtyard? It looks like a moving train." In the midst of these episodes my dad seemed perfectly lucid. He was open to sharing these experiences which he seemed in awe of. It was beautiful to be a witness to this. Once my dad woke up when his Hospice nurse arrived and spoke with her about the light he was seeing as he looked out their sliding door. Dad said, "It feels like this light is here now to stay." At the same visit my dad described to Molly how he had felt like he was dying the previous night. I asked him how it felt and in his Iowa inflection, he said, "Pretty good." This was all happening to a man who had been terrified of death and had described it for years as, "Nothing but blackness." Now on his Hospice journey my dad was discovering a new reality with open curiosity and trust..  Maynard (far right) with brother's, Gene, Zeph, sister, Audrey and parent's, Sylvia & Ben My parents many friends came to visit when there was a chance my mom and dad might be awake, but mostly, from mid-April into late June, they both spent hours each day sleeping opposite one another on their chairs in the living room. For my mom, sleeping was a symptom of her dementia. Just before Father's Day my dad started into his active dying phase-sleeping most of the night and day, eating little and very disoriented. On Father's Day he took his last walk with me through their building. He later listened to "Morning Has Broken" by Cat Stevens on his Alexa while looking at a card from my younger sister which contained the song lyrics. My dad listened and looked up at my mother, smiling and extremely out of breath and in a slurred voice said, "Those are great songs." I knew in that moment that my dad would soon be gone. Tears streamed down my cheeks with Cat Stevens voice and my dad's smile tucked away in my heart.  Maynard on Father's Day 2022- The day before his "death sleep" began. The next day, resting in his recliner, my dad slipped into a coma; his "death sleep", accompanied by severe atrial fibrillation. My mother stood beside her husband of 71 years all night, holding his hand, saying, "I don't think dad will make it this time." She was able to track that he was dying, even with her Alzheimer's. Throughout my dad's Hospice journey my mother said, "What a horrible time to have memory problems when my husband is dying!" She would wake up each day once again discovering as if for the first time that her husband was dying. She knew just by looking at him. My heart was breaking. The hospital bed arrived the next morning. It was Tuesday and my dad didn't get up again. My sister's arrived the following afternoon. Since Tuesday dad's heart had been racing at 200 beats a minute. The comfort medications Hospice provided barely calmed his heart rate. Though dad couldn't speak we knew it was extremely intense for him. It looked like his heart was jumping out of his chest. Amazingly, a few hours before he died on Thursday evening, my dad, who was known for his side-splitting jokes, pulled himself from his death sleep, and forced his eyes open to mere slits and almost inaudibly whispered his last joke to his beloved Hospice nurse, Molly, her ear next to his mouth. By evening, my dad's heart finally slowed and finally at peace, with my older sister by his side, he took his last breath. My sister's had gone to bed and I quietly sat with my dad's body, waiting for the funeral home to come for him. I thought my mom was asleep as she'd gone to bed just before he died. Once they had taken my father, my mom, still awake, called me into her room and I lay in bed with her. She said, "Dad's dead isn't he?" I told her yes and we lay quietly together holding one another.  Maynard Telpner z"l My dad's death and loss caused my mom's dementia to spiral out of control. Without her anchor, she could no longer stay in assisted living, even with private caregivers. Within three weeks of my dad's death my mom was in a memory care facility near my older sister in Montana, and has since rapidly declined and is now on Hospice. My father who had been mentally vibrant up until the end was now gone and my mother too was suddenly gone. Her rushed move was totally out of my control and at the same time necessary. None of us were prepared for how the move played out. At this point my mom has few if any memories of my dad, how many children or grandchildren she has and little understanding of where she is. My grief dropped me into anxiety, despair, disorientation and exhaustion. It was partially triggered by my dad's death and partially from very painful family dynamics with my sisters, related to the circumstances of my mom's sudden move. My cortisol was rushing and my body felt out of my control. I was taking 1-2 naps a day and waking each night about 3 am, struggling to return to sleep. I have always been a good sleeper but my body clock and metabolism were suddenly out of control. I cried for weeks and let the tears bring me back to balance. Though physically weak I would slowly walk the 2.5 miles to my sit-spot at Ashland Creek as many days a week as possible. I'd sit on my rock and drop into my senses, sinking my feet and calves in the ice cold creek for long periods. After an hour or so, I walked down the trail once again, very slowly. Each time I left my sit-spot I felt a little more alive, more whole and a lot more human. As I walked the trail home I noticed the people I passed gently turning away from my red swollen eyes, offering me privacy and maybe protecting themselves from my grief.  Ice Water Therapy at Ashland Creek I gathered every self-care tool I had to regain my balance and energy. Self-Care has become an integral part of my daily life following a health crisis which flattened me in 2013. These practices have been a lifeline for my physical, emotional, mental and spiritual well-being. Over the past 9 years I have integrated numerous practices into my day for grounding and balance. Self-Reiki, The Wim Hof Method-breath work & cold water immersion, skin brushing, Medical Qigong, Forest Bathing/Nature Immersion, EcoNIDRA and Gratitude are all core to my self-care. To manage my energy and grief and regulate my nervous system, I streamlined my daily self-care practices to wherever I felt most drawn. In the morning before rising I typically did Self Reiki and Wim Hof Method Breathing followed by a hot shower ending with 2 minutes of cold. Before breakfast, Jinjing Qigong helped get my body moving and energy flowing. In the cool of the morning, I often followed breakfast with an aerobic walk to the park. After about 20 minutes I gently slowed down to a slow meander as I transitioned to Forest Bathing. I dropped into my senses, letting my attention go where it was pulled and ditching any mental concepts of where I should be or what I should be doing. I eventually arrived at my sit-spot, a place in nature where I'd simply sit and experience nature through my senses. I sat and noticed and sat and felt and sat and noticed. Here I felt safe and present enough to cry and release whatever wanted out. Another practice which helped me through this time, was EcoNIDRA™, a nature-based form of the ancient practice of Yoga Nidra. I'd choose one of my many EcoNIDRA™ recordings and rest on my bed in late afternoon, facilitated through a 3 stage journey- through my senses, my body and The Earth for about 50 minutes. This practice offered radical rest for my body and nervous system while doing absolutely nothing; drifting between a state of waking and sleep. Mid-afternoon and evening allowed me time to ground and focus on my remote work. Lastly, before turning my light out, I'd write in my gratitude journal-the best thing from my day; the worst thing and a list of all I was grateful for.  Radical Rest through a facilitated EcoNIDRA, Guided Imagery-Sense Journey Between the Reiki; breath work; cold water; qigong; walking; forest bathing; EcoNIDRA™ and Gratitude, my nervous system began to calm and I began returning to myself. I returned to a whole self with a broad perspective of all that had happened after my dad's death and a much clearer understanding of who I was. Life felt new in many ways. My father had died; my mother was physically gone with her mind rapidly going. Through profound grief I had summoned the strength and determination to complete the passage, having pulled myself out of a deep hole. Everything felt new. The grief process helped me let go of how I previously perceived my life. It was a time for release, deep integration and rest. I was Alice on her journey through The Looking Glass, stepping into liminal space. I realized my only way through was to make peace with the unknown; with all that showed up and cross the threshold that had been waiting for me all along - a path to freedom and new life. I learned that grief takes its own unique course for each person. Before my father's death, I imagined grief as deep sadness and sense of loss. I had lost close friends and older family members but this was my first time losing parents. I discovered grief as much more than profound sadness and loss. The disorientation; exhaustion; fear; anxiety; disrupted sleep; inability to focus or work, along with a sudden loss of my natural social ease was extreme. I would see someone I knew in public and quickly turn a corner to avoid conversation. I screened my calls and sometimes couldn't respond to messages or emails or initiate contact for weeks. The exhaustion scared me and painfully brought back the experience when I collapsed with Meniere's Disease 9 years earlier; when my adrenal glands crashed and it took years to regain my energy. I feared this state would last and I'd be stuck in this new reality. But, contrary to my health crisis 9 years ago, I now had a potent self-care tool kit I'd pieced together over the last decade and I understood how resilient our energy body is. I was confident this would be temporary; that I had the patience, strength and stamina; the tools and emotional and mental capacity to move through this. I knew that nothing would change until I allowed myself to be present with the experience and feel the pain. Through experience I knew one of my most potent allies and self-care tools was my ability to cry and feel my feelings. Two months after my dad's death I was still really struggling at which time I read a book by a forgiveness educator named, Ana Holub, called, "Forgive and Be Free." I realized in this period that I had much work to do related to long time painful family issues and dysfunctional patterns with my sisters and parents. I have heard it is common that loss within a family can bring up trauma and painful family dynamics. The instant my dad took his last breath, all the dysfunction in our sister dynamic exploded from the shadows. For a time there was no contact between us. At the same time I was blocked from contact with my mother. Ana's book saved my life as I used her method of working each incident from my present and past where I'd felt wronged or felt I had wronged others. Ten days after beginning this work and after shedding a river of tears, I miraculously heard from my older sister. That call launched us both onto a profound path of deep repair and healing of our broken relationship of decades. It began with one phone call, from my sister, "I'm calling to apologize and ask your forgiveness." We were both blessed to dive into forgiveness work together and through facilitation as well. This work has been life changing. I have done so much over the years to try and fix the brokenness in our sister relationship and nothing touched it until now. I am more than grateful for everything that has happened since my dad's death. It was extremely painful and set off a chain of events comparable to a slow fuse sparking for years and finally detonating through our whole family constellation. I had lost my father and mother and through the grief process and forgiveness work, I found myself and I found a true sister for the first time since we were children. I also learned about the vital importance of letting go of relationships that serve no one and only prolong pain and suffering. The forgiveness work opened new doors and sparked a renewed life energy that infused each day. At this same time, a long-time friend and I happened to reconnect over the summer. He too had been going through his own process of loss and grief and like magic our path's merged as we began holding space for each other around our separate experiences. Our connection has slowly grown into a beautiful friendship which we are both cherishing like a newly discovered rare and delicate seed.  Samara- Maple Seeds or Dragonflies? My friend Sarah Marshank, founder of Selfistry, recently wrote a piece titled, "Death is Weird." The gist of it is that we each experience the death of a loved one in our own unique way. and how can we know what anyone's experience really is. Sarah writes, "When we find ourselves about to say we know how it is for others, let’s pause, bite our tongue, turn off our autopilot, and offer an inquiry instead – a wondering. Like this: "How is it for you, your mother’s dying?" I grew up thinking that death was painfully sad and frightening. It can be for some but perhaps not for everyone. Each death, just like each birth is a unique passage; its own journey. My father's death and what immediately followed, catalyzed healing and transformation, creating a profound opening for new life, filled with goodness, peace and love. It cracked me wide open, leaving light, love, peace, wholeness, new life and hope. The waves of grief still wash through me, unannounced, accompanied many times by tears. I never know when one may hit. What I do know is, as long as I embrace the unknown, I'll continue to move through life in peace and remain whole.  Dragonfly Photo by Steve Prull© Traveler Between Worlds of Light |
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