Ferns. Footpaths, and Fairy Houses

Wow--It has been quite a while since my last blog post! I am excited to get back to blogging...it has been too long. So much is going on right now with school, afterschool activities, and life of a busy family of 6. But it is important to take the time to reflect. It is hard to believe that I started this blogging journey a year ago. It was a way to cathartically work through loss and change, as well as a way to reflect and think about life. In this last year I started my journey as a bisexual person, moved to high school, and applied to graduate school for a doctorate. Our family continues to be supportive and loving of me--just the way I am and I cannot thank them enough. Over the past few months I have worked to get my health back in order. I am hiking again and loving life. I don't know why we always put aside the things that bring us the most joy and balance when we need it the most. I can only speak for myself, but I tend to retreat inward when times are hard and forget about the vast network of people that I have to support me and lift me up. My coping mechanism is to do for others and I am learning to let others do for me. 

In my health journey, I went back to the trail. It was actually one of my favorite trails at Gambrill State
Park. There is something about that mountain that is magical and healing. It was one of the first state parks that I went to with Becky when we were dating and one of the first that I frequented when we moved to Frederick. It was not a park of my youth, that was Catoctin. My aunt and uncle would take us to the mountains of Frederick to hike and climb--at least they seemed like mountains to me at the time. But I find solace and balm in the worn trails of Gambrill Mountain. It was on a hike a few weeks ago that I started to appreciate the ferns on the mountain. I was reminded of the magical place of my youth, Ferngully. It was fascinating to stop and observe the varied species that were on the trail. They were so different, yet all of the same order Pteridophyta. Ferns are fascinating in their development and reproduction. As angiosperms they spend half their life cycle as a gametophyte and have as a sporophyte. Ferns have been here since the age of the dinosaurs--towering over the more modern species. I feel like I connect with that dual life cycle. I have left my gametophyte generation and have moved to a sporophyte--in building our family, I have passed on a legacy to my children and now, I am living my adult life. I thought a lot about this last week while teaching my undergraduate lab class. As we talked about the alternation of generations in ferns, I thought about my life and how I have embraced this new journey and awakening. Ferns have symbolized hope, family, legacy, endurance, new beginnings, and magic in many cultures around the world and I feel like a lot of those qualities reflect me as a person. Here is to the majestic, magical, and magnificent fern. 

While walking on the footpaths of Gambrill, I also reflected on my journey. As I crossed paths from
white to red and then blue to yellow and black, I was reminded of my life. I have moved from path to path, always headed in a forward direction though the end keeps changing. I started my life thinking I would be a doctor then a teacher. I began in elementary school and now teach high school. I thought I might get a doctorate in education and now it is in marine and estuarian sciences. So many changes, but always moving forward. Following my passions like the blazes of a trail. Sometimes getting lost or turned around, but using my compass to regain my direction and balance and head toward the goal. On this particular hike, I did just that. I was switching between trails and missed a turn. I was following the yellow trail (that I needed to be on) but in the wrong direction. When I realized my mistake, I needed to get my bearings. I headed for the road and, using my surroundings, figured out north vs south. I knew which direction I needed to be heading and followed the paved road back to the car. It was not the path I thought I needed, but it in actuality, it was. My family and friends step in to be that compass when I need them. They encourage me and guide me to the right trail. A compass can only tell you the direction, it is not the map. It points you in the direction of your destination and my family and friends are that for me. Like a North Star shining bright in my life and guiding me along the way. 

That same weekend, my girls and I built fairy houses at a local park. It was an afternoon of imagination, joy, and creativity. I was amazed at the ideas they had and the stories they came up with as they took terra cotta pots, raffia, stones, pieces of cork, dried and artificial flowers, and so much more to create the perfect house for their fairies. I decided that I needed to do it too. The creativity flowed from my head as I did something that would have been so taboo as a child, building a fairy house. I have stared to embrace the Gaelic and Pegan culture and the world of fairies. So many of our Christian traditions are rooted in them. The connection to nature is calming and centering for me. Fairies were something for girls--and I was constantly bullied and called on as a kid. In that moment, the years of torment washed away as I embraced my inner fairy and built a house fit for, in my mind, an old fairy with a vegetable garden and wool cardigan sweaters. When I got home, I proudly placed it in my garden among the gnomes and mushrooms--completing the scene. It also brought me back to the ferns from earlier in the weekend. They are a symbol of magic and as I observed the ferns and mosses, lichens and rocks, I could see the fairies of Gambill frolicking in the sweet smell of leaf rot and mountain laurel as they watched over all of those who hiked by. 

In the end, my weekend ramblings, both on the trail and in this blog, boil down to this--embrace your inner fairy. Live in the woods without care. Explore the world and spread joy in the process. Keep the magic of life alive for yourself and those around you. Embrace the fern. Know that we all live an alternating life cycle--you may not discover that your bisexual, but we all of those turning points--embrace them. Remember that like the fern, we are love and shelter--live with humility and sincerity. Accept the new beginnings with open arms (or fronds)--and above all else--live. There have been many times in the past where I felt that living wasn't for me. I have overcome eating disorders, suicide attempts, and the deepest of depressions and guilt with the help of my compasses and North Stars--my guardian fairies along the footpaths of life. To those I say thank you.