I walked around the lake twice in the past two days. 

Yesterday with a trusted confidant, and my dog Bruce.

Today, alone with Bruce. 

Both days, I’ve been mesmerized by the quantity of fishermen (assuming most are men, but maybe not…) who stake their claim in the ice, brave the weather, and partake in their craft. 

Yesterday we met a guy on the path who said there are so many that the cops are starting to give tickets for those parked improperly. In the news two weeks ago, we saw that this small lake was full of little tents in sub-zero wind chills as a result of our winter vortex. This week, the ice is starting to melt and there’s a small layer of water over the ice. “They’re crazy,” I say to myself.

Today I pondered life’s changes; the capacity that I have to move through life’s surprises, the history that I’ve created for myself to access different parts of me, the ability to recognize when to use the tools I’ve obtained, and when to call upon my people in times of need. 

Yesterday though, was a day full of feeling all the things – and recognizing that this very intense woman still lives inside of me. I thought we killed her off … but maybe I should say, “Welcome back, my friend.” 

Both days I noticed these fishermen (and women?). I admired their persistence, resilience, and the ways in which they’ve braved the storm. On another note – recently I read about buffalo, and how they’re one of the only animals that go TOWARD a snowstorm, instead of turning away from it. 

I’m no buffalo expert. And certainly no ice fisherman expert. But, if what I read is true, everything inside of me resonates with that damn buffalo. At least these days. I’ve known avoidance, escape, numbing, and after working SO hard to move away from those behaviors, I know myself well enough to know that I won’t go back. 

You see, trauma disconnects us. Quite literally, things shift in our brains. Healing requires reconnection with ourselves (who are we really?), others (who are the safe people in our lives?), and with God (how can I reconcile these terrible things and still believe He is good?). 

In the last few weeks, I’ve had to do a few “laps of grief” as a friend calls it. My therapist would say, “Erika, I don’t know why this is your cross to bear,” and wrap it up with, “You’re a fighter, but you know how to fight smarter now. You are capable.” Ugh. Sure. 

Oftentimes, we go to another person before we ever go to God. Yesterday I wrote what some call “the shitty first draft,” the draft that is not meant for the public. Yesterday I connected with a few trusted friends. This creates reconnection and ignites healing in the areas my brain is still working to rewire. Today, I reconnected with myself, and my God…in ways that felt honest, authentic, and some would say – probably way too real. 

All while pondering the life of the ice fisherman (or woman) … which weirdly led me to the life of the buffalo. I admired both – their bravery to enter the storm, to work their way through the elements of the day. I probably won’t ever become an ice fisherwoman, or a buffalo. But, I’ll ponder the things both taught me today. Every storm is different, some last longer than others, but when you have what you need to get through, you’re often far more capable than you give yourself credit for.