Love and Loss
Seeing that the last draft on this blog was in March astounds me. Even worse, I’ve published nothing here since November of 2012. I lost hope. Even as I tried to grab at the tattered remnants of the gorgeous golden thread of it, my fingers slipped. You could say it was a nervous breakdown. Strong as my spirit can be, the last few years have been especially rough for all of us riding through the universe on our lovely mother, earth. We are trying to cope with so many stressors at once, and our Great Mother, who supports us all has been getting sicker and sicker. Species are disappearing, cruelty has been splashed across the news at every turn and if we love our fellow beings it seems cowardly to look away. Day after day then, we watch the losses mount and hope that our species has enough intelligence to overcome our greed for things. Each centimeter of wilderness that is lost costs our hearts and souls on some level. Even as spring arrived, and the trees burst forth with blooms; even as we delighted in a family of fox that took up residence in a mound on our land, still the world seemed fallow.
My birth mother is suffering, and has been since the death of my father. One accident or illness after another has beset her, and a frightened child took up residence within me. It became to risky to call and hear the pain in her voice. God bless my three sisters who would call every day, as I barely managed a weekly check-in. Lucky enough to see her for mother’s day, I rode many hours in a car driven by a spiritual warrior to get there. My sister, Anne, has maintained her writing throughout every crisis, every set-back, every let-down as she crusaded for the quality of each human life she offers her wisdom to, and forded the river of deep despair that seeing the gridlock in our nation’s capital has on all but the most powerful lobbies; allowing our mother to be strafed of life, fracked/raped for the resources we can still violently drag from her depths. Even through her fallow times, she has prevailed. I respect her so deeply for that.
My sisters, brother and I are all trying to comprehend what life without our earthly parents will be like. Each of us is trying to cope in our own way. Today, rather than working against my self, I am attempting to open the vein of creativity again. I am putting my faith in the regenerative qualities of letting that blood flow forth, knowing there is always a new supply waiting to refill it. Loss is as much a part of life as the cry of the newborn child, fox, wolf, of any sentient being. It cannot be denied if we want to move with the natural rhythm of this earth. Contemplating all of this, I send you blessings, peace and Namaste‘. The light of spirit remains however dark our surroundings may seem. May all of our lights be bright this day, and may strength flow into you like the sap in the trees.