Sunday, after we got back from Madison, I started lighting the wood stove, and then left it burning, or so I thought and went into the kitchen for awhile. Suddenly, the dogs came running into the kitchen, which was odd, and they all looked anxious, and I smelled the smoke. The stove had grown cold while we were away, and there was no updraft and so the whole downstairs filled with thick black smoke. I ran into the living room and opened the stove door and got the fire going, breathing in more smoke than I realized. We aired the house out, but we were both dopey – very dopey –  and went to sleep. In the farmhouse, the air from the downstairs moves up into the bedroom and more smoke came up there. I woke up in the middle of the night – why was I so sure Rose would have woken me up? – and sat up and the room began spinning. I couldn’t stand up.

The air seemed thick to me, and I opened the windows and began to breathe again. It was either smoke inhalation or carbon monoxide poisoning and it definitely got into my head and rearranged it. It didn’t feel good.  I’ve been shaking off dizziness, fatigue, mood swings all week, drinking water, taking walks, exhaling with some enthusiasm, getting better. At times, I freaked and expected to end up in a nursing home momentarily and gave Maria detailed instructions about my final wishes. It was quite an experience for me to see the farmhouse doing cartwheels all around me. I live out of my head, and it was disconcerting to lose control of it.

Day by day, I am getting clearer and strong. My health care was stellar.   Mostly when something like that happens, I am on fire to take photos. The more photos I take, the better I feel. This worked with my cold, and a sore back and with the smoke. Today I got around to thinking about a spiritual approach to things. Give the body a chance to heal. Rest. Think soothing thoughts, do soothing things. I walked with Maria. We went to see the house we want to buy. We meditated with Simon this morning. I cooked a couple of good meals. And took some photos I really like. I am intrigued how life flexes its muscles whenever it chooses, and how we are not much more than a leaf on a tree when the wind comes in.

I didn’t write about this because I’m not into struggle stories or drama these days, and I am allergic to advice, especially medical advice. Everybody has their own story of challenge. Mostly, what I am learning is that life happens. It isn’t sad or dramatic necessarily, it is just life.  All the time, every day, to everybody. A spiritual life isn’t one without trouble, but one in which trouble is handled with acceptance and grace.