Double Devastation

Dear Web,

There are days when I plod along. The plodding lasts throughout the day sometimes and sometimes the plodding is interrupted by experiences I can only describe as being felled like a tall tree. For short, I refer to these times as "on the floor." Oftentimes this is literal as my grief takes me to the lowest point possible, which, barring a deep passageway to an underground cave (which sounds quite wonderful), the floor is the collapsing point. Sometimes I am figuratively on the floor. During these figurative times, I may look like I am standing or sitting or not weeping my heart out, but really I am and either my body hasn't caught up with this state yet or I am not in a situation where I can drop into it yet.

This weekend my partner returned from South Louisiana where she witnessed first hand what is happening to the water. She said she could smell the fumes of the oil on the beach as well as see the immense spread of oil, both what was already bagged up and what was still coming in with each tide. She showed me her photos. Dear Web, there I went again...felled...on the floor.

Like so many of us, I can hardly stand this. And I am paying attention to the double devastation for me personally. My beloved Guardian Phoenix has been taken, shot, killed, murdered. I/we are picking up the pieces that are shattered from that and reweaving....something, sometimes wonderful and sometimes unrecognizable. And now, beloved Ocean who has been, likewise, a constant source of Source for me is being killed by this oil. My partner told me that the oil is so deep in some places (ie 4 ft) that the fish have had to dive deeper and cannot sustain that depth for a long period of time. I think they will suffocate. And here I go again...felled. And the beloved pelicans...with all the effort of trying to clean their wings....she was told they will die anyway because of the toxicity already in their system.

I am not a Christian. My cosmology does not include Armageddon. And...if anything personally looks, smells and feels like the beginnings of a big end of something, this double devastation does. And..I do what I know to do...I fall to the floor, seeking the lowest point on the earth, and wail, feeling the magnitude of everything. And..I hold on to that Thread to Phoenix and to the Water, to Her Wholeness and to All the Love I have in my heart that currents right along with the Pain.

Ooooowheee. These are the days we are reminded Who We Are and Must BE.
Holding on,
Melissa