Tea with Toads

The story of being mindful of the signs the universe sends our way, of loss and hope; a story of memories, wisdom and how a little toad brought it all together here.

Meet JT the toad who made me believe in signs again.

Do you believe in signs?  The subtle kind that are easy to miss if you aren't paying attention?  Too often we miss them as we race toward tomorrow or worse yet, when we're standing still, mired in the could've, should'ves of the past.  So here is the story of a girl who was looking for constructive ways to manage stress and the morning she woke up early. 

"Do you believe in signs?  The subtle kind that are easy to miss if you aren't paying attention?"

 I am NOT a morning person. Period. Not even a question. But recently I have been finding myself awake with the sunrise. In protest, I usually roll over in an attempt to will myself back into slumber.  I have since determined, this is not in fact, even close to real sleep and the charade just makes me even more tired. So on this particular morning I decided to get up and accomplish something, anything.  So I picked sweeping the front porch and ridding it of the cobwebs that seem to accumulate faster than the junk mail in the mailbox (which is also a favorite target for said cobwebs. Your welcome, Ms. Mailperson.)  So I put on the tea kettle and headed outside thinking that I have now officially become the crazy old lady who used to live next door to us who swept her sidewalk early every morning before I was even capable of coherent speech.  She also complained that I didn't "weed" the cracks in the sidewalk, but I digress.  I set to knocking down the webs and assorted "fuzzies" suspended among them, their whimsical flight caught abruptly short.  As I swept the slab using the hand-carved broom my sister sent to me some years ago, I moved a chair, and I was surprised to find this little guy. He was just hanging out, not scared of the broom or the banging of the chair.  So I went around and gave him a little poke fearing a wee bit that he

had succumbed to ill fate, but to my relief he was just a bit sluggish. "Huh" I thought "not a morning person either."  Being a warm morning, I moved my kindred spirit into the garden and since he seemed a little dry, I made him a little toad pool, which he appeared to enjoy. 

I went about my Cinderella task and rewarded myself with a cuppa (tea) on the porch. Sitting there I noticed a myriad of chattering from the birds, the knocking of our resident woodpecker and the rustle of the tree branches as the squirrels bounced from limb to limb. I also noticed the absence of horns and engines, of voices and noticed the world seemed... calmer.  

Now you are probably thinking "so what does this have to do with signs and how we got here." Well I told you to get a cuppa and sit awhile, so just hang on.

So for that we have to step back a bit so you have an idea of some of the thoughts that had taken up residence in my head at the time.  My husband was recently diagnosed with a life-changing medical condition and I'm still trying to find a way to...well, let's just say I'm still trying to find my way.  Noticing that my stress has risen to a level that I am not happy with, and might just get me into trouble, I recently attended a workshop, "Stress Management 101," hoping to find some strategies that could help.  Among things like exercise, meditation and the ever elusive, time management system, journaling was mentioned as being an effective stress management tool.  Since sweating on purpose wasn't calling to me, I had been thinking journaling might have real promise.  I thought "writing is a bit like talking" (which I enjoy) and perhaps getting my thoughts out of my head and giving them a vacation elsewhere would help. I had done some blogging as an adult college student and mulled over the idea that blogging might be a good vehicle in which to journal.   I had some reservations, mostly because we had decided to keep my spouse's illness off the net and I wanted to respect that decision.  So I employed another, less effective coping skill, avoidance...out of sight, out of mind.  

Also traipsing around in my thoughts a lot those days had been my Dad.  Since his passing, whenever I'm feeling worried or stressed out, I find myself thinking about him and his ever-present even keeled nature, his stoicism, caring heart and oh so practical Southern upbringing and wisdom. At times I know he is nearby and other times, like now, it's been harder to feel his presence and him voice telling me "Hey Ness, you just get on with it."  

So on this morning, when I found myself outside at an hour that would normally only be reserved for Black Friday Shopping, I found a toad.  Now I have to tell you in the 15 years I have lived here, I have NEVER seen a toad in the yard, let alone perched upon my umbrella stand like he belonged there. As I sipped my tea, I checked on my new friend a couple of times, he seemed to be in no hurry and happily lounged in the ivy.  Content as the little toad was, I snapped some pics for Facebook thinking that my friends would have some fun suggesting a name for my little visitor.  Watching my new found companion I thought "Huh, if I find a good name for you, maybe I'll name the blog Tea with so and so. ...And there it was.   In the space of about 20 minutes, I had quieted my mind enough to allow myself some mindful moments. Moments that let me notice a toad that was almost completely camouflaged.  A small visitor who managed through his own quiet and calm nature, to help me decide to blog and tackle my emotional demons.  

So Meet JT, so named for my Dad who I'm

sure, brought him to me to say

"That's enough now...Just get on with it."

A sign.

Author's note: I struggled to get this project started. I created the blog and started to write but got stuck. Several days later, sitting on the porch with a notebook and pencil, I attempted to finish this first post.  Frustrated I set it down and decided to water my flowers. As I came down the steps, there he was, the little toad I hadn't seen since that morning, hopping across my path and disappearing into the garden. And in that moment, I was a 6 years old me with my Dad in the front yard of my cousin's house. He is patiently, and with nothing but unconditional joy, teaching me how to catch and release toads. Sometimes the signs are quite clear. 

Update: Originally posted in June of 2016, it was forgotten and found again during the Covid-19 Pandemic. The message came back to me at a time when I needed it most. So let's give this blog a try again. Oh and "Hi Dad, happy to have you."