Sitting in mid-April with a snow-covered landscape, a day past a spring blizzard, I contemplated what season I'm in?   Do seasons really exist?   And if they do, how do I progress from one to the next?  I suppose the first season, spring, begins at birth?   Or perhaps winter is actually the primary season during the gestational period?   
 
Either way, youth has a sense of spring built in it.  Everything is fresh and new.   We are free to frolic in the green grass, stopping to imbibe the fresh air and fragrant growth of newly budded trees and blooming flowers.  In my youth, life was exciting and free.  I roamed the woods building villages out of sticks, mud, and stone by the creek bed.   Riding my bike for hours, alone, I would end up at the shore of a river, watching frogs and tadpoles swim by, as the sun descended upon the day.   Hurrying home, I would make it to dinner, after the whistle blew.  Life was simple during this first season.   
 
Summer comes and with it ventures in humidity and bugs.   Oh, summer is beautiful and special.   Everything is set for fun in the sun, but with it comes sunburns and temptations not considered in spring.   Sleep is shortened due to extended daylight.   Summer foods are abundantly tantalizing.  Our early adulthood is similar to summer.   Our education, beliefs, and career begin to be set.   As we proceed on our chosen path, we find the expected ”fun” comes with consequences to our health and well-being.   Summer set me on a course of destruction.   Overextending myself in work, exercise, and social engagements left little time for the nurturing rest that is promised during the supposed ”lazy hazy days of summer.”   Back pain, hypoglycemia, and seizures left me questioning my early decisions.   A change was needed.   A different direction had to be made to alter my current life or the final seasons would be debilitating.   I had to rethink how I viewed life and what was truly important.
 
The fall phase brings a transition of the greens of summer to an array of spectacular hues.  The accumulation of the fruits from the earlier laborious timeframe begins to flourish.   This season can feel like a glorious harmonic finale of a symphony.  All of life's knowledge, experiences, and wisdom blend beautifully to culminate into an incredible story of perseverance in the midst of constant change and unexpected twists.   Fall is beginning for me.  I see the colors change as my teenagers become young adults.   
Assisting my aging mother, I think about my own winter season.  Spring and summer have passed in my life.   Fall is my favorite season.  Here, I can become both a participant and observer as life falls by like a floating leaf to the ground.   Fall still offers adventures, but perhaps the daring aspects lay closer to the heart than the physical body.   I'm still learning and pushing my limits, but in a gentler manner then the exuberance of spring or the steamrolling of summer.   When the leaves are done cascading to the ground and the time to head inward begins again, I will be ready.  Ending in a transformation to higher levels of consciousness, I'll move into winter until the cycle begins again.   
 
Susan J. McFarland
April 15, 2019

 
Fog hinders the ability to see clearly, providing only glimpses of the true sights in our surroundings. Enveloping in nature, fog seeps into the nooks and crannies within our environment. It cannot be captured or bottled. Its essence permeates the entire landscape. Fog leaves a feeling or gloom and heaviness even though it is actually weightless in nature. On its own fog dissipates as the morning sun ascends.
 
Teens and drama are synonymous. A constant stream of emotions play out each week in my home. As the week progress’ they escalates as tiredness and boredom set it. Drama reminds me of fog. Weightless, it carries a heavy burden. Masking our vision of reality, We loose sight on the situation. Feeling lost in it, we succumb to a blurred vantage as our energy levels descend.
 
The good news is just like actual fog, the cloudiness that drama brings can be lifted. As light enters in we can clear the ”fog” away. As it burns off, a brightness ensues that illuminates our world. The key is letting the light-love in through nurturing and caring for yourself.
 
Susan J. McFarland
March 22, 2019

Experiencing a hiatus from the scheduled life we live, brings a newness and freshness to our inner landscape. The kids have been off of school for a full week. We are all ready to return to our daily routines. During this period, where the world has literally come to a halt, we have found exploration and connection still viable. 
 
My daughter and I talked about her start of high school next year, as she now has decisions to make regarding electives and a language. In the course of our discussion, she decided French would be her language of choice, for the school language requirement. Working with technology, we are studying French, through an App. She loves competitions, so we are learning together, one day at a time. We have bonded, while acquiring a new skill.
 
While raising children, it is important to continue your growth, as they change. Find a subject or a sport in which to engage in with your child. Maybe it’s new to you, or something that you love, that you can offer your child. I find, the time it works best for me, is when my children have an interest of their own and I follow suit. Challenge yourself to discover a link with your child that could last a lifetime. My daughter and I are already making plans to travel to France, after high school graduation.
 
Au revoir.
 
Susan J. McFarland
January 31, 2019

 
My daughter turns 14 this week. Her birth changed my life. Parenting starts at conception and lasts a life time. There is no vacation and no break. Continuously my mind is concerned for her and my other daughter’s safety. I don’t think this ends at high school graduation. My eighty year old mother still tells me to “watch for deer” every time I leave her condo. Ever bonded by love, the ties and connections run deep.
 
When she hurts, I hurt. When she celebrates, I celebrate. We are united in body, mind, and heart. The world tells us to detach. Removed from physical interactions, we hide behind our phones and computers. In the background, I hold space and place. When needed and called upon, love can be activated and active. Similar to energy, Love is unseen, but always present.
 
A parent’s love is like no other. It is deep and abiding. A village can help and support a child. It is necessary to have strong schools, churches, and friends, but I parent’s love goes beyond that which institutions and others can offer. A child needs a parent whether biological or adopted.

Knowing someone is present in their lives brings security and safety in this dangerous and changing world. Stability of home, family, and love are the cornerstones that uphold the wobbling teenage structure. Be the parent that your child needs. In steadiness, strength, and balance, continue to raise your child as the parent you know you are. The Universe thanks you. I thank you.
 
Susan J. McFarland
December 7, 2018

Love is deep and enduring.  Its presence, often missed, runs in the backdrop of living our lives. Yet, there are fleeting moments, when it sparks.

Holiday shopping with my girls, in our charming little town, sparked this love.  It was there throughout the night.  While driving home, as we were singing along to a song on the radio and laughing, love sparked.  Breathing in love and gratitude, I stopped to notice this magical moment in time. 

It sparked again this Thanksgiving, as family and friends gathered.  Sitting in the space of love’s presence, I watched it spark, as conversations flowed and hugs exchanged.  Its presence made itself known again, during the laughter from stories past, to the sharing of children’s accolades, of days present.   Love weaves itself throughout our days, sparking here and there, hoping to light our way.

As the holidays approach, where can you notice “sparks of love”? It is there, sometimes in the quiet, but often in the noise and chaos.  Look beyond the surface.  Feel it beneath the trimmings and decor.  It is subtle, but profound.  As gifts exchange, they become tokens of these “sparks of love”, igniting the world with light.  May your holy days be filled with infinite “sparks of love”, brightening your heart and those around you. 


Susan J. McFarland
November 25, 2018




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Clouds cover the sky. Rain looms in the forecast. A sleepy cat rests in my lap. The end of the week is here. A sigh of relief billows up and out. Tired from the upstart of school and traveling this past weekend, I sit. One daughter finished golf season last night, the other is still busy with cross-country. October offers a relief from the whirlwind of September’s schedule.
 
The last days of summer are drawing near, as leaves begin to change and release their grip, flowing seamlessly to the ground. At the same time, this season of parenting is changing. My children are releasing their grip on me. They are finding their way to the ground, flowing from one direction to another, not sure where they will end up. I am their tree; stable, steady, and strong. I am here, in the forest, waiting to see where they land.
 
The tree does not help the leaves let go. It does not pluck them off and throw them to the wind. It does not pull them down and toss them away, while they are still green. Its grip does not tighten, with every impending storm. It allows them to mature and transform into brilliant colors, then gently and with ease, delicately descend to the earth.
 
Nature provides brilliant lessons for us, if we pay attention. All that we need to know, is not solely found via a search engine. This innate wisdom can be located in our environment, if we stop, rest, and listen. The tree and the leaves are teachers of truths. Information that is felt from the heart, not the head is the lesson. School is in session. Kids are growing. Whether they are ready to let go and shine on or they still need to hold tight for another season, is up to them. You, are the tree. Remain grounded, firm, and flexible, as you nurture and prepare them for their next swirling and twirling adventure.
 
Susan J. McFarland
September 21, 2018

After surviving another stint of music camp, we picked up my youngest daughter this past Sunday. Arriving early, her bags were packed and we loaded them into the car. Waiting for her concert, we set out to check her art. It is a rustic camp in the woods, known for its artistic education, rather then comfortable camping.
 
Blue Lake is a magical place, set among the pines of Michigan, nestled near a quaint picturesque lake. Electronics are not allowed, leaving space for creativity and relationship building. The cabins are rustic, lacking water and electricity, but they are filled with laughter, fun, and friendship. Girls gathered together sharing experiences from the day, while preparing to settle in for the night. Spiders and mosquitos share the space covered by the moon and starlight.
 
After hours of practice, free time involves reading, sketching, or perhaps a friendly game of Uno. Life is simple at Blue Lake. It is regulated with a creative flair. The stage is set, and the players are in place. Learning about punctuality, preparedness, and professionalism, they come together as one unit, an orchestra.
 
After checking the art, we head to the performance shell. Still outside, seated on wood benches we locate a place to see my daughter on stage, careful not to be blocked by a pine or a person. She is present, ready to begin. This group of teens, together for only a short time, begins their musical journey.
 
She has learned much from two years of camp. Her skills on the cello are increasing, but what’s as important are the life skills she is gaining. This year, she made friends and stayed positive during the transition. She’s already anticipating a return visit next summer. This year was easier for me too. I missed her, but I was confident in her abilities to manage her world.
 
Big growth requires big moves. Leaving home for a week and a half, living in a bit of discomfort, and working towards a goal brings ultimate satisfaction. Staying comfortable, brings immediate ease, but for long term satisfaction, a challenge is needed.
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Susan J. McFarland
August 6, 2018

You can’t make every team or have all the experiences. My daughter has practiced her sport for a solid two years. She has played in middle school, attended camps, had private lessons, and played for clubs. Yesterday, after grueling tryouts, she found out she didn’t make the freshmen team. The school and the pool of girls this year is very competitive. She says she’s good, happy the pressure is off. Still, my mind in swirling with the next steps. What to do? She wants to play club again, but without a practice and games, she will lose her momentum. She has three months to wait while the others will be playing nonstop, putting her further behind.
 
Trying to be a supportive parent without intertwining my life with hers can be difficult. While I wasn’t excited about daily practice runs or weekends filled with tournaments, I’m sad about the interactions I’ll miss with the mothers of the other girls and the experiences my daughter could have had, but won’t. Reconciling my own emotions with the situation is tough. I want to fix it. I want to put an immediate plan in place to help her achieve her goals. Realizing her goals are more about the friendships and fun, over actually mastering the sport, I step back. Volleyball is one of her vehicles to a social experience. She plays primarily for that reason. Understanding this and being satisfied that this is enough is hard.
 
As a parent my goals and my child’s goals differ. When they are young, we can push our agenda onto them. I’m certainly guilty of this behavior. As they grow older, they begin to determine what’s best for them. I am still here to offer suggestions. Guiding and directing, as needed, but no longer being the decision maker, is my next step.
 
High school starts this year. It is a new era to test out different paths. My path is to let my daughter figure out her life, supporting her more in the background. Her path is her path. I’ll let her decide on that.
 
Susan J. McFarland
August 10, 2018