Cronewort

Dear Phoenix on the WEb, It has been a long time since I have come to you to write: over a month, I think. Currently on The Wheel, we are on the brink of The Deep Time, marked specifically by the holy day of Samhain. Two days ago was Lunar Samhain, the time when the moon is already in that energy that occurs solarly on November 1st. This particular Lunar Samhain was also a new moon in Scorpio and the sun moved into that same sign last Sunday. Scorpio, Phoenix, is 'your sign' because the energy is about transformation, deep transformation, death/loss, rebirth/reconfiguration. And this week, I feel I have been in that current beginning on Sunday with a Trance Dance. But/And I come to you now not because of Sunday (though at some point I may bring that to you too), but because I felt you came to me last night. I woke suddenly to what sounded like Beetle heaving, like she was needing to throw up. I leapt out of bed and let her outside. I was in such a liminal state of sleep and wake that I became a bit disoriented when I headed back to bed. This is very unusual as I am often able to move around in my dark bedroom in the middle of the night, no matter how I wake up. I usually feel my way successfully through the dark and corners and furniture. So, last night was different in that I was disoriented. I bumped into the t.v. which knocked the photograph of you and I off onto the floor, shattering the glass. This woke me up more, but didn't snap me out of the disorientation. I reached, groped in the dark for the lamp I knew was there. My hand waved like a blindly into space, back and forth, finding my bed, finding your chair, but unable to find the lamp in between. I was perplexed, kind of like that moment last Winter Solstice in the labyrinth when I couldn't find the way, remember? I knew it had to be there, but all I saw were rocks that closed off the path I thought was there! Last night, like then, I persisted and I kept waving and reaching; in the process I knocked the wooden wolf sculpture and the paper phoenix off the stand where the lamp was. Finally, I got the light on and saw the evidence of you there, Phoenix. Our photograph, the sculptures of wolf and phoenix all reactivated. Samhain is the time when the veils between the worlds are thinnest, when the ancestors are close and accessible, as well as losses. Part of this week, Phoenix, I returned to my losses of the last years. You, J., losses of parts of myself, relational beliefs about myself, things I thought I wanted exclusively...on and on. And, then I watched a documentary that threw me more deeply into my Deep time. I woke up this morning with it again, haunting me. The movie is called The Cove and I rented it because on the front there were dolphins leaping out of the water. I've been seeking out movies about the ocean recently. Watching water move calms my nervous system like nothing else. This movie was not that, though. This movie was about the deliberate and systematic slaughter of dolphins in a town called Taiji, Japan. When the movie began and I realized it wasn't what I was expecting, I decided to just watch a bit and see. I was feeling sleepy anyway and thought I'd probably sleep through it; would let it lull me to sleep with the monotones etc. And I did drift off to sleep at one point. Then...I woke up, Phoenix. It was to the sound of screaming dolphins and the color of red ocean water! I was disoriented and frozen there in my bed watching these creatures writhe through the red waters after being repeatedly stabbed by Japanese men in boats. I can hardly stand remembering this. And, yet, how can I forget it? The inhumanity...there aren't even words for it. Our language does not have words for these kinds of things that don't sound legal (i.e. injustice), theoretical (i.e inhumane), racist (i.e. barbaric)...nothing reflects this feeling I have inside in response to that!! I cannot shake this. And..I don't think that would be the right response either. Yesterday a resident where I work told me that there is a current of trash/debris from Japan's tsunami that stretches 2000 miles long and 1000 miles wide that is moving through the ocean now, will reach Hawaii sometime next year etc etc. I can only imagine what kinds of things that includes: appliances, pipes, furniture, lamps, mattresses, toilets, sewage, chemicals, trash, things of people's lives and deaths. I shudder trying to imagine and know all i would need to do is Google for the information and images would be provided for me! Later this morning, Phoenix, though, I woke up in tears. How can the ocean hold all of this trauma??? Not just from these two things, but from lifetimes of similar atrocities, 'natural' or not. Where does it all go??? How does she contain it and still have life????? I am not looking for pat answers about this about how strong She is, how big She is, how miraculous She is! NO! That may be true. And DAMN IT! It's got to STOP!!!!! I hate it when women are praised for that kind of thing. Oh, look how much women have endured: rape, incest, murder of loved ones, betrayals etc etc etc etc ad infinitum. Yes, that is true and DAMN IT! It's got to STOP! It's like somehow there is some justification for all this shit just because we have survived! I cannot stand it! I cannot stand for it anymore. And...what does not begin able to stand for it mean? I went to a book I have by Judith Berger, an herbologist. She writes about Artemisia Vulgaris, Mugwort, also known as Cronewort, the hag of the plant world. She says one time after something really hard happened to her/her garden, she went to this plant and asked what to do and She, the plant, very simply said "there is no killing me." Judith writes in response, "And I learned that for myself, rather than diminish the injustice of inhumane acts, I want to become like the crone, who represents the mature force within us that is willing to see things as they are, and determine what medicine needs to be applied. Regular ingestion of cronewort builds this fierceness within us and allows us to bear unpopularity in order to remain close to what we know to be true" (Herbal Rituals, p. 22). Last night, in the energy of the Scorpionic new moon and Lunar Samhain, I sent this fierceness to Her, the Ocean and her life. I sent it internally to myself. I said, NO to further slaughtering. and I said YES to my fierce willingness to continue to see things as they are and determine what medicine needs to be applied. Do I feel better? Not really. And/but I feel occasionally less "possessed." That's the only word that seems to fit. Since waking up that night to the horrific images and sounds, it possessed me in a freeze state. Finding Judith's words and her teaching of Cronewort I could feel something loosen, thaw in me a bit. It's not a fix. No. There is no fix, right now anyway. Phoenix, thank you for waking me last night and reactivating our connection...calling me here to write/record/reflect. You do that for me so sweetly. Finally, last thing: "In Japan, cronewort's fierce protective quality is well known by household women, who hang wands of it over the door to keep out evil influences" (Herbal Rituals, p. 14). May these wands be energetically hung over the waters of Taiji, Japan. So it is. In and for Her Love, Me

Threshold of Regeneration

Dear Phoenix on the WEb, our web, In readying for a spiritual retreat weekend, I've been reviewing my life...well, my most recent life. I was asked to look at the last year of my life, revisit journals, writings, interactions, experiences, actions etc. And I found myself agitated, really agitated. I thought maybe because time is so arbitrary. What's a year? Why begin it then and not some other time? I got angry and resistant the more and more I tried to artificially look at my last year. Then, I broke down, I fell through a hole I didn't even know was there. I don't want to face this year again. Don't ask me to face this year AGAIN! And this year did not begin just a year ago...this year threaded into the year before and maybe the years before! Unwinding, more unwinding. So, I went. I mean, what is one to do in falling? I can claw whatever edges I can find. Ultimately, though, falling is falling until I find ground again, land somewhere. So, these last couple days have been falling through layers of grief and regret while at the same time trying to maintain appearances and interactions with others, including myself, as if that is not happening deep inside me. This morning, I have been able to give some words to where I am....or atleast what has happened in this "simple" review of a year. I wanted to place the writing that came from that here, in a letter to you, dear Phoenix, on the WEb, our web. Because this life I am reviewing began after you were murdered. It is a life I've been living always in relation to that, to you, to us. I take full responsibility for that life, this life and all that has come to pass. I make no apologies. I look with clear eyes, like that of a Crone, or a heron, or owl. Unblinking. Focused. Honest. Fierce. Compassionate. Refusing to take nothing back. Truth is, I couldn't anyway. What does one do in the face of such sudden violent unexpected loss of her beloved companion Guardian? This is what this woman has done. This is how my life has been irrevocably changed by that sudden violent devastating loss and how I have changed my life irrevocably in response. I began the labyrinth then and still walk it. May never end. Cannot even see how one would end that walk, this walk. This is the land and waterscape of my life since that night. This is my tear streaked face, my clawing fingers, my altars to call meaning back to my life, the infinite candles that have been lit by me, and the choosing, my anguished choosing, the collapse into water, a gentle hand on the back of my neck while i'm standing on the brink, desire for another, altars made by water that stir unmemories, unrememberings, dreams of begging someone to shoot me, please!, her room: walls pained with memories and loss then painted with a black two headed snake who encircles the entire room, holding, containing, a crossroads, well, THE crossroads, making the choice to Live, to survive, to endure, to serve, gift back my life to Her on a snow covered ground, to stay True in the way only I can. This is my Life--my Life is a Threshold of Regeneration. It is not a beginning nor an end, a shore to stand on permanently tho I do need places, land, for rest, ground, restoration even if it's momentary. My Life is the threshold of regeneration...in short, my Life is the labyrinth path which began in the face of incomprehensible loss. So, that is my "review" of this stretch of the Path. I see the relevance of taking stock, reviewing, as it has helped me language where it is I am, what my Life seems to be...a Threshold of Regeneration. I am reminded of what I wrote a while back: Life seeks to Return, to Repair. Yes, that is what is both carrying me and what I carry in my heart. I love you, Phoenix. I seek you. Love, Me

The Last Day of Companion Month

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
It is the last day of this Companion Month. Not sure what that means or what will occur today in representation of such a naming.

I sat down to write about the labyrinth. The physical labyrinth next door. See my neighbor sold the property to someone who I am not comfortable with. This new owner and I have had a conversation about the nature of how our properties are connected. The front of my home looks out to the labyrinth which is the 'back yard' of her house. The arrangement is that of a 'collective' though I am not interested in having that kind of relationship. I've had to say somethings to her about the limits of how I am willing to share myself with her. She is the kind of person, as far as I can tell now, who doesn't have clear boundaries and needs lots of assistance from those around her. I have a pond on my land. She wanted to have access to the pond and I had to say no. So, I've not let her know I am interested in the labyrinth. It wouldn't be fair. So, I've kept quiet about that even when she has prompted me about it. I've been feeling grief about that. Letting go of that sweet Labyrinth who has helped me move through these last 18 months without Phoenix.

The other night, under the cover of darkness, I went out there and began to walk her. I was so bereft after something really upsetting at work that thrust me into a state of hating people and the world, and craved to feel a part of something innocent and loving, like Phoenix. So I went to Her in the Labyrinth. I got midway through the passageway In and my neighbor came home, so I left and went to the pond and listened to the owls talking in the trees. It was a good enough exchange and I did find some settledness and/but...I couldn't help but feel sad about not having that option to be with the Labyrinth. So, I wait for times when she is gone for extended periods. Or maybe middle of the night walks. Granted this may not be the most energetically ethical thing; I wonder if I should just make peace with letting her go, just be ok admiring her from a distance. Maybe I will wait until Fall and ask my neighbor if I may rake her like I did last year...prepare her for the winter. Maybe this offering of service will be a door so that the pond doesn't become the bargaining chip. And..maybe I don't want any further involvement with this neighbor. I just can't see the way right now.

In the meantime, I may walk her 'one last time' under the cover of darkness, say 'good bye' for now.

Phoenix, I love you.
Me

What a lovely date

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
Truly a lovely numerical date: 8:22:11. I was called to write because of that and because I have come to know this month as Companion month. These numbers all herald that notion of companionship to me. Plus, there have been several years with significant things which have occurred in August, the most notable/memorable was my 2007 encounter with the Canadian goose I named Companion. I met her on the side of the road beside a pond near where I used to live with Phoenix. She had been struck by a car and was dead. I could not leave her there, so I picked her up and eventually had her cremated, thereby returning her ashes to the pond and to her beloved surviving companion. It was truly a magical tale of Loss/Separation and Return. Last night I memorialized that experience along with the recent loss/separation of J. who I thought would be my life time companion. There was a beautiful altar created by myself and A.: an aging/fading sunflower, a sculpture of a girl hugging her dog companion, a candle and a photograph of Companion, the surviving one. I wept for all of my companion losses over the years and then met such a well of gratitude for A. who has become a new and important companion to me in my Spiritual work. This month, from now on, will be Companion month.

Yesterday marked another important experience. I moved Phoenix's altar from my bedroom to the room behind me. Where that altar used to be, I created another one to honor another relation: my relation to the element of water and air and to the ways I am being Led/creating of my Life from the ashes. It marks 'the way' I have come to live my life. Also, in moving Phoenix's altar, I took his collar and placed it around Beetle's neck. I assured her that I did not expect her to be Phoenix, she is not. But I felt like it was time I honored our companionship in the Spirit of the Life that was Phoenix and I. That it was time that I begin to recognize her as my companion in the unique way she has been and will be. And I have to say, though it may very well be projection, she looks proud. And she feels calmer to me, just in the last 24 hours.

My love to you, Phoenix. Always. Always.
Your forever Companion,
Me

Grief holds me close

Dear Phoenix,
Grief still holds me close. Last night felt like the night after J. left. The grief felt insurmountable, so I just let it take me. Again. And today, Grief is still there, in the wings. When I get too still, too quiet, Grief is there. She is there in the emptiness of the pantry and silverware drawer. She is there in the gaping empty room that once belonged exclusively to J. She is there in the way I do certain things that J. taught me because they are efficient and mindful of living with someone else. Grief is there when I remember I never wanted to live alone again. I never thought I would. Grief is there when I long for J.'s voice inside these walls.
I miss her, Phoenix. I miss J. How much change am I to bear? How much loss?

I have nothing inspiring to write tonight. One thing i do sometimes let in is that I have survived through the loss of you, irreplaceable you. Though, then I follow up with the next thought of: maybe I was able to do that because I had J. in my life. Now what? No Phoenix. No J. What a damn mess. I am terribly lonely.
Me

Numbers

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
So, the date is 7/11/11. It is the day after J. moved out. To say I'm depressed is an understatement, but it's the word I have. Finally I fed myself today (a dear sister came to me last night with food and loving support). It's amazing how depression persuades so much that is antithetical to self-care. I'll go swim soon too, even though I've talked myself out of it several times already. What am I waiting for? Why am I so inert in this? Some of it has to do with myself catching up, I think. Trying to integrate the emptiness in the house when just yesterday she was here. Trying to remind myself what has happened. Replaying the final good-bye. Remembering the weeks of preparation for this. The long conversations. The wrenching emotion witnessed in one another. The taking down of photos/memories/promises from the walls, the shelves, our hearts. Remember we did all that? Remember, she did not just disappear, vanish. We have walked this long unwinding labyrinthian road together before we said goodbye. Remember?

And yet, the grief has her way that I must follow through more muck of regret, sorrow, missing, anger, begging and gratitude. I follow even though I am weary. What else is there to do? I think of things I could do and every time I play it out, I find grief somewhere. Unhappiness and grief because J. is not here. Even in the scenarios she could be here, I still find grief.

And moments of WuWu. Yesterday morning as I sat in my chair, I was thinking/praying/wondering how J. and I will find our way out of these ashes. I looked up right at the moment that two herons flew over the house. They were higher than the trees, but I could tell they were herons. Two. Then when Beetle and I left for a while so J. could move out of the house, our walk took us to what felt like a new world. We followed a trail we hadn't been on before and came to a lake, no a double lake, surrounded by a path that was literally a figure 8. This is significant to me, this shape of an 8. It has become a symbol, a path of moving energetically between worlds, so to speak. The number itself is a double and of course represents in mathematics, infinity. (and I noticed while signing into write this post, there have been 88 posts so far in this web log as of today!)

And so...I continue to move between the world of grief and other places, through other doorways. My roots however are deep in the wet earth of grief. I promise to be with myself and ask for help.

And...ok, I will go swim now, even though I really don't want to. Feels like there are more important things to do...like sit and stare and cry. I can always come back to that though, I suppose.
Love you Phoenix. I know you are near.
Love,
Me

White Heron

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
It's one of those double number days: 7/7/11. Today a white heron flew over to my neighbor's fish pond. I saw her descend through the trees and thought she looked white, but the sunlight was in such a way it was difficult to be sure. Then a little while later, I saw her fly over towards the house and then down to our pond! And yes, she was white!

Heron continues to teach me by showing herself to me as a reminder, I think, I am Hers and on the WEb. She also often uses poignant timing in her appearances. Today the timing was uncanny. J. and I were in a difficult moment of deciding whether or not to spend the morning together. It's painful to be together knowing that these are the last days. For me, I cherish every moment and want/accept/seek the moment, even if it is uncomfortable. I figure, there will be forever after this Sunday of time without her and the pain will still be there, even worse. And/But, not everyone is like me that way. So, it was difficult this morning talking about her leaving for the day and not having time together. She got up to get some water and like it seems to wonderfully happen, my eyes found Heron descending through the trees over to my neighbor's pond! I spoke it aloud. Then when J. came back into the room, she flew towards us at the window and over the house to our pond! There she fished for a while, showing me her exquisite white long neck and tall elegant body.

This past weekend a sister, with whom I share a similar affiliation to Heron, shared her awareness/knowing that white herons are associated with Death Priestessing. Last night I wrote in my journal that this week of J. preparing to leave feels like we are each preparing in our own ways for a death. Like one might do in the days before putting a companion 'to sleep' or removing life support from a loved one. There has been lots of grief and crying. Tenderness. Agitation. Aggravation. Tenderness. Gentleness. Quiet. Shared moments of watching night fall outside. Meals shared with one another. Some advice and reminders of how to do things when she's gone. Tenderness. And did I say, tenderness. And grief. I've never walked this part of a labyrinth with anyone. I've never been with anyone as we consciously approach the end of a connection. A death is happening. We are dying. Our way of being together for almost eight years is dying. Sunday will mark another death when J. physically leaves and I will be left. There's no way around it. So, we have been going through it, Death Priestessing ourselves and one another. So, it makes perfect sense for White Heron to arrive on the scene.

This last Sunday, marking the week before J. leaves, Beetle hit me in the mouth with her head and busted my lip. She was so scared of the fireworks and was trying to get on my bed. I leaned down to grab her paws and help her up and Wham! right in the kisser! J. was so loving and tended to this intense experience with me. My lip swelled immediately and I might have had a slight concussion (the next day I was pretty headachey). The meaning? My mouth has been a site of trauma over the years. Speaking my truth as often been a challenge. There is much energy there. I wonder if some release of energy there needed to happen as part of this death, this letting go, this transition that seems like an end, and may hopefully be a beginning. And maybe there was no grand scheme involved. But the sweetness that came from J. afterwards was precious. I will always be forever grateful for her sweetness over the almost 8 years. Her protectiveness, her strength, her power as a Drummer, her wisdom, her guidance, her clarity, her tenderness....her Love of me and the Life that was she and I, as we have lived it thus far.

Thank you, White Heron, Death Priestess. You have blessed us.

Love,
Me

Phoenix's 11th Birthday

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
Today is your birthday: July 2, 2011. Beetle is beneath the desk as I'm writing, well...now she's pacing because there are fireworks outside exploding! I imagine you pacing the floors with her. How I hate this weekend every year!

Today I saw a heron. No, not the young one who's been visiting at our pond, though she has been frequently there in the mornings, fishing. This one was on the way back from dinner tonight. Like often happens, my eyes decide to look right through the trees to the river at the exact moment and there on a felled tree in the middle I see the large back of a heron, her head is tucked and her back is puffed out, broad. She looks like she is cloaked. I've seen this look when I've seen herons on the edge of the waters along the ocean. She looks like a crone, cloaked and still.

This morning, I woke from a poignant dream where I was readying to begin "my work" as a colon hyrdrotherapist. The room was prepared, the environment felt safe and comfortable and people had arrived and were so ready to begin. We were working out how to decide who would go first since many of them were ready. Once we figured out the fair way to decide the order, I remembered I'd forgotten to tell them that I'd not been trained to do this work. Someone of authority (my colon hydrotherapist) told me I could do it, but I hadn't gone through the training, actually, I hadn't even practiced yet on anyone but myself. It was humbling to admit. When I did, they left. I woke up perplexed and embarrassed wondering how in the world I could have gotten so far along without the training, just because someone said I could do it. What a fool!

I am wondering what both things mean really. I take note of the timing and wonder what they may have to do with you, wonder what message you are sending me through Crone Heron and this dream. J. is moving out in a week. I am feeling so much grief/loss and fear of being on my own again in the world. This feels like being with the Grandmother Hecate again, a Crone. Plus, I do not know what my real work is, my Service, anymore. I feel lost in so many ways right now, even though I keep affirming and am affirmed by the Web that I will find my way. I don't feel like I really have much to offer the world. Not really. I've lost a sense of myself with this separation. I'm not who I thought I was anymore. J. has been a significant compass to me...to my life. She has been my sense of home and ground.

Is that some of the dream? Have I been acting as if I've been trained for this Life/work, but really have not? Who'd trust me now? I've made so many huge tears. I have no credentials, no credibility. It's just me and the props of some kind of life/work. Intense message.

Surely, Phoenix, you have something more encouraging! Surely. Unless you are the Crone who doesn't mince words. Tells it like it is. Is it really that grueling a Truth that i need to face?

Still Listening....for you.
Love,
Me

Phoenix

6/22/11...good numbers...what do I have to write?

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
Was it you today who came to me through that golden retriever who greeted me unexpectedly in that store? Whose body collapsed against me when I leaned down to pet? Was it you in that familiarity that my hands responded to when I leaned right back into that sweet dog? And was it you yesterday who greeted me unexpectedly in the labyrinth, on summer solstice, in the body of Grady, the neighbor's white golden retriever? Why the visits and revival of grief?

Phoenix, is my grief running me into this decision to let J. go? Am I thinking clearly? Am I still caught in the trauma vortex of loss where I must keep losing love? Do I really know what I am doing? Will I ever be clear again about love and what it means to say forever and consider permanence? Is this part of the dying process? How do I know?

I feel like I've taken a turn that I cannot reverse and that maybe that turn was guided by grief. As well as hope. Hope for myself. Phoenix, help me through this. Help J. and I both find our ways separately and together. I cannot see what is ahead, except loss and things that have no form yet. Therein is the hope. Hope that there will be something that is not pain, not loss, not despair, not 'leftness' not regret, and not the unfriendly guest of realization that "I made the worst mistake in my life". There is no one to save me from this, if it is true.

I place this all on the WEb to you. Sending back gratitude and love for your presence and reminder of some of what it was to have your physical love and presence close to me.
My love, over and over, forever (that I can say for sure).
Me

End of Volume 2

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
This marks the end of Volume 2 of this series I've called "Phoenix and the Labyrinth." I affirm all that I have written has affected the Web in ways that are for Healing, Repair, and Return of a way of Loving in the world that is distinctly for all beneficent Life. I offer it to eyes and hearts who are that.

And so it is.
Love,
Me

Summer Solstice 2011

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
Here I am. Summer Solstice, across the Wheel from Winter Solstice. Remember then? It was so cold and wind was howling from the North against the house. I was just beginning the knitting of this something I'm making with yarn called, "Ashes." Last night when I got home from work, I felt so panicky, like I couldn't locate anything of any surety. Remember you are not here, Phoenix. I am still mourning you and the ease we had in finding one another, locating myself easily in relation to you. So, I sat in my chair, the one that had the mysterious web across it the other day, and looked at your photo there beside me. The tears came so easily again. And in front of that photo is a seed from the Deep time that I placed in a circle of a piece of the Ashes yarn. It's been there since, witnessed by your photo. Nothing's growing because I did not plant it; it was to be a reminder of a seed of something in the Ashes. Also there beside my chair on the other side is the knitting, the weaving I've been doing from the Ashes. So I picked it up again after a long stretch of not knitting this summer, and I began again. My fingers knowing the way, I created 8's with the Ashes, repetitive figure 8's around and around and around the bamboo needles for almost an hour. The promise made: "Phoenix, we will make something from this" came to my mind. Then more tears.

What have we made from this, Phoenix? What is that seed? Am I that seed, that something? How can that be when I feel so distraught about this loss, this break up with my partner who said those words, that promise: "Phoenix, we will make something from this"?? What have she and I made from this colossal loss of you? Have we failed? (note: just this moment, there are gunshots in the distance.) I worry and wonder if my absorption in my grief of losing you last year created more of a rift between she and I. I didn't let anyone in very much. It was a year of you and I, completely. I did not want to be touched and often could not be reached. Perhaps this was ok with her because my grief was so much to hold and join me in. It's true, I wanted/needed to be joined in that desolate place. But I could not make it comfortable for anyone. It is not an inhabitable or hospitable place. And the truth is, I go there, even now. And have been there many times before you were shot. It is a piece of my nature that calls me, needs my attention. And it makes being in relationship with me challenging, I know. So, I wonder, Phoenix, did this last year's 'descent' seed this break up? It is possible.

And here she and I are at this doorway of change after almost 8 years together. There is no obvious way other than through it, at this point. It's a loss that rivals losing you. She may be gone from my life all together after she goes; it's a thought I can hardly bear. She is another ground for me; we are compatible in so many important ways, especially in a world that is so messed up. We love each other totally. I've never wanted anyone else in my life as a partner. We are a match in most ways.

A sister made me an altar the other day: on a lush green cloth, she placed black sand in the center which looks like a dark moon, then made grooves in the sand and sprinkled white powder like white rocks. This is a dark labyrinth, lit only by the moon illuminated rocks. In the center is a doorway and twigs that look like curly roots. She placed a compass there in the center. I placed my seated woman statue and around the lush green edge and spread petals from the rose bush, Phoenix, that I associate with you. On this Summer Solstice, I feel the internal pull and collapse of Winter, though I know I must continue to move through the doorway with my dear partner to find out what else is on the other side. I know there will be despair, more despair. I'm not convinced it will be 'better' than where we are now. But it will be another side of somewhere in this dark labyrinth. Maybe we will see what we have made, other than a big painful mess.

Goddess help us.
Love,
Me

Tearing of the Web

Dear Phoenix,
Yesterday I did a 'public' acknowledgment of a tearing of the Web, by my hands. It was public in the sense that it was witnessed by my closest sisters. As I walked to the home of the sister where we were all meeting, like we do once a month, I could feel the weight on me, the anxiety almost unbearable. But, I had woke up that morning knowing clearly what I needed to do: I needed to acknowledge something of this Tear and it's known and unknown consequences. And I needed to do it being witnessed as a non-verbal gesture even if they didn't really understand the gesture.

Afterwards, I felt worse. Almost as if it had intensified the Tear. I could hardly walk home; I felt I was drowning, like I had lost all sense of shore, like all that I had known and trusted was no longer in my reach. And even though they may not have been feeling like that towards me, I felt and still feel convinced that I will never be 'forgiven' and that my actions have ruined everything for everyone. That the Tear was not just in my connection with one sister, but it was/is a Tear in the Web between us all. I can hardly bear it. I have thoughts of just leaving, moving far away and starting over. Going far far away from this unbearable pain.

And...i know I will not do this. My family is here, my home is here. Even though so much is changing that sometimes I feel downright dizzy and nauseous, unable to focus my eyes clearly, I am hoping that all of this will lead to something better. "May the joy of the end of this journey exceed the joy of the beginning." This was a quote printed on some card years ago. It's stuck in my head for a while. It doesn't apply exactly to this situation because there is not one iota of joy here at the end. Perhaps it needs modification: May there be joy on the other side of the end of this journey that exceeds the joy in the beginning." Or something like that. And there was such joy in the beginning. Such joy. And many years of many moments of joy throughout.

Dear Phoenix, I have torn something that is irreplaceable. The consequences are far reaching, farther than I had thought. I feel like letting go, giving up on myself. What does one do with such a Tear? i do not know. My arms, chest and hands ache with this. I light our candle and ask for help.

And it is worth noting that yesterday afternoon, i sat down in my chair by the window and there stretched in front of me across from the window to the lamp was a single strand of a web. Right there. Unmistakable. What does it mean? Does it mean repair has already begun? I don't know. That would be a helpful interpretation. My arms, heart and hands still ache, so i just don't know. I took note though, Phoenix, of the WuWu timing and 'response'.

Love,
Me

The Day My Gramma died

Dear WEb and Phoenix,
I turn to you again, for a connection with some sense of Wholeness in a world that feels like fragmentation.

Today is the anniversary of my Gramma's death in 1997. She is the one and only two-legged being in my life to whom I grew up comfortably saying "I love you". It was always easy to say that to my animals, but never to my family members, except for Gramma. It never felt like it had much meaning. I loved them and they, me. We loved each other in ways that we were comfortable with and saying it never felt comfortable. Even now. But, my Gramma....she and I shared an emotional connection that I did not share with any other family member. I've always cherished that, reminding myself that it is possible for me to have that.

And, as an adult I've most assuredly had that with my beloved partner of almost 8 years. We are shifting and changing in our relationship. My heart is breaking. We are at some crossroads where both of us don't know where to go or how to get anywhere beyond this heartbreaking pain. So, we sit with one another in it, best we can. Today I've been re-visiting our lives together through journals etc. and have felt so depressed. Depression is such an overused word. And...I do feel depressed. Pressed down by grief, sadness, despair and disgrace that such an incredible love is changing. It feels like a death.

So, today on the anniversary of my beloved Gramma's death, I am collapsing in what feels like the death of the only two-legged love of my life to whom I pledged my forever love. And to add perplexing contrast to perplexing contrast, I am going to a wedding today of a co-worker. I am going to bear witness to this act she has decided to do. Bear witness to her yes-saying to a "life-long" commitment.

What does this all mean? I have no idea. My eyes are swollen and red with the grief and torture of letting go. I will get dressed in pretty clothes and go bear witness to the beginning of something that for me, is ending. And right now...outside my window, i am listening to the sound of my neighbor playing gleefully with her granddaughter!!!!

Whew.
I am so in a web of criss-crossing energies. May it be energies of Love, Repair and Return.
Love,
Me

Memorial Day 2011

Dear WEb,
Today is the day before Memorial Day, the day of memory, usually the day of remembering those who have died in battle. This time on the Wheel, I re-member my Beloved who died and myself, who almost died.

I begin with where I was on August 19th of last year...I was at a crossroads with my Will to either live this life out without Phoenix or not. It was a scary place and a very necessary one, one that I have just recently reminded myself of as things have been very hard with my most intimate two legged Relation. I have felt like we are too now at a similar crossroads with the cultivated relationship/life that is between us. Another scary and necessary place. So, I turn back to August 19th for some help...

Part of the poem I wrote that week included the following guidance: “...if you decide that you cannot go any further, then the new life will die with you.”

My Will then was to risk living without my most beloved four-legged Guardian Companion Phoenix. I chose to stay. In staying I have also come to find out what that ‘new life’ is that didn’t die. She came in the form of a new two-legged intimate Relation who has helped me/my Beingness to Return. I am also that ‘new life’ Returned and I have felt hardly recognizable to myself sometimes. When Phoenix was shot, one of the first coherent thoughts I had and kept repeating was: “I will never be the same.” It was the only Truth I understood then and still didn’t really know what it meant. As the year went on, the profound changes that began with that statement started to surface from the Deep. And the effects of not being the same have become evident in with my most intimate two legged relation. It is hard. So hard. right now.

And much of the time I have not been kind to myself. Re-reading that entry from August and remembering that there is a new life that my Will and Return has created...whew....it is a profound responsibility to see myself through this. I am responsible to that new life. I chose to say "Yes" to this.

This gesture is a ‘prayer’ to that new life that is weaving something with myself and my two-legged intimate Relations. It’s a reminder that this situation is not just me ‘behaving badly’...this is about the new life that came last August with a choice of Will. It is part of my profound responsibiltiy to recognize this life, this crossroads. I am hearing this song sung by Melissa Etheridge as that ‘new life’ singing to me, so when she sings "When you are at the end of your rope, come find me" she is that new life calling me to remember...

I turn the song/music “Heaven on Earth” and do just that....I re-member my many facetted love and my responsibility to this new life and new and old love.

Love,
Me

Across The Wheel

Dear WEb,
There are many things happening right now I have that felt sense of the interconnectedness of the Web. I don't know what it all means. It's not all good. Much is destructive, and...I need to try to acknowledge the links. Not because I want to make it 'all good' as they say. NO, it's not all good! It's not all Goddess, not at all. And, I think that there is Her weaving of some sort of something. It's important to me to stay connected to an understanding that is larger than me. So I don't get lost in the flood. It's a way of hanging on for Life and letting go at the same time.

Tomorrow is the holy day, Lunar Beltane. On the Wheel of the Year (an Earth based "calendar" that many European Earth-based peoples have lived by for millennia) across from Beltane is Samhain, the beginning of the Deep time around the beginning of November. I am often intrigued by what's across The Wheel from where we are and this time the energy of Samhain got my attention even before I saw on my calendar that it was Lunar Beltane coming up. I felt "something" coming last week and then received a poem written by a sister who really understands and has lived Descent. I was so moved by the understanding of Descent in this poem; it reflected something in me before I really totally understood it. I wondered why I was relating so well to the energy of Descent when I allegedly have "Returned" from my year long Descent of grieving my beloved Phoenix. Then, I realized that Return doesn't happen and it's done. Nothing is linear, especially on The Wheel. So, I thought next that this poem was reflecting my back and forth process of Return.

Then later in the week there have been more circumstances where my internal response was to decisively Return...to the cave. That is, it feels like a Descent again. Curiously, the weather for May has become uncharacteristically cool here making curling up in a dark room and bundling up appropriate and comfortable. Additionally, interestingly too, I began a liver cleanse that I had planned several weeks ago only because the timing coincided with a colonic that I had already scheduled months ago. Then last week I did some research about fibroids/ovarian cysts/breast cysts etc (since my have not shrunk since 6 months ago at the last ultrasound), I found that these are related to an over abundance of estrogen which is processed by the liver! Everything has come together accordingly without much of my planning, per se. So, to recognize the place here on The Wheel as Beltane because it is across from Samhain feels quite significant and yet another sign to me that there is some Divine weaving happening to pay attention to.

Lastly and most notably, my partner is dealing with more pending destruction down South with the floods from the Mississippi River reaching her home town and family there. There are levees that are starting to break up river from that town. We are both frightened what is in store in the coming week and months. People losing their homes, one another, animals turning rabid, disease let loose into the flooding waters, malaria from mosquitoes infestation of sitting waters, violence unleased in so many forms. We are on the edge of something here. This feels like another piece of a global Descent. Earthquakes, tsunamis, nuclear spills, oil spills, hurricanes, broken levees... There so much upheaval, I can hardly believe it. And, I'm not even directly in it. I do not live in Japan. I do not live down South. In India. In Afganistan....on and on. I have the privilidge of sittting in a catbird seat right now, able to communicate and process this from a distance. Sort of.

I have been feeling some of this in me since yesterday. This intense breaking. This pressure. This upheaval in my own body. In my own personal life. I know I am not separate. I am just not "there" physically in those places, living those horrendous things on a minute by minute basis. I am watching/feeling/sensing/experiencing from afar. And not because I am watching the media. I do not watch t.v.. My source both comes from hearing, for example, what it's like from family who are readying for the pending floods best they can and what I can feel in my body of this...this...something.

This is not a 'wow, look at me' self-congratulating thing. This is seriously not about me. This is about something happening that is both a tearing and a weaving. And I do not say any of this to keep myself comfortably at bay from what is happening. I am writing it so I can help myself remember the connections. Remember that whenever there is a rupture in the Web (which a has been happening for millennia to the Earth), there is some guiding force that seeks to repair: Return and Repair. It doesn't mean that we will all survive, or even choose to, in any given Descent. It means that this, I believe, is available--Descent, Return and Repair. I've lived it last year. Right? Well, mostly. It's a Process.

I pray for no suffering. I pray for Weaving. I pray for hands to hold.
Love,
Me

Reinforcing the Levees

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
It’s the first Thursday after my class has ended, so it’s my first Thursday “off” in 17 weeks. I’ve had some appointments today and have done some usual housekeeping things. It’s all felt different without the time pressure of needing to get things done before class or doing last minute preparations before class etc. And I’ve spent some time going back to read early entries in this log. I’ve missed you, Phoenix, so much these last few days especially. In rereading the early events, I’ve gone back to you again, re-membering what happened again. It wasn’t a dream. I’ve not just woken up to this life I live now. I re-member the ruins from which I have come.

This evening I created a new large altar on the floor. For several weeks now there’s been a configuration of standing stones on the floor with my seated woman statue and a seated crone sitting across from one another ‘in council’. There was a tea light in front of each one, illuminating their conversation across the way. Between myself and the crone were two standing stones with a channel of space between the two rocks. I imagined that was the channel that made the way for the wordless conversation between us. So for weeks we have ‘been in council’ regarding all manner of things. Tonight, it felt like council was finished, for now.

The new altar grew organically into something that is both reflective of current situations and is also a spell, an act of magical intent. The cloth is brown velvet and the edge of the circle is kept by six pairs of standing stones. Six. Yes, six twin sister Grandmother stones. I am in the middle in the form of a bronze statue with my arms wide open. Around me are scattered fragments of pottery that broke this winter with the extreme cold. Then I trailed some blue yarn that I’ve used in circle to signify my ‘coming unraveled’ this past year through the ‘ruins’ of these broken fragments. Finally, I used gold glitter along the places of the fabric that were not laying flat, but had bulged upwards to create creases. These creases I ‘saw’ to be levees, like the levees that hold back waters from flooding towns. The glitter was placed there with magical intent to ‘reinforce’ these levees.

The towns in Louisiana and along the Mississippi are in danger in these next many days of being flooded. Spillways are having to be released because the waters there are rising so high. This release will send massive amounts of water at high velocities into the rivers, lakes and bayous causing dangerous tension and pressure on the levees which protect towns, homes, families. Someone I love has loved ones there. We are scared of the outcome for them and their homes. And...I cannot ignore the parallels. Internally we are dealing with a lot of emotional upheaval that feels like rising waters that are pushing our internal levees to their capacity. This altar is for reinforcement within and without. That all levees will be strong enough to hold up against the pressure.

I am in the middle of it all, with my arms wide open. I’ve asked the Goddess to take it all, reconfigure it as She has and will. I will continue to not fear the ruins. I am in the company of a strong circle of six twin sister Grandmothers. Devastation can roar around me. I will endure and find my place in the reconfiguration. With my arms wide open to Her.
Love,
Me

An Evening Labyrinth Walk

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
Tonight I walked the Labyrinth right at dusk. I entered when I could still see most of what was around me and by the time I reached Center and began my Return, it was darkening. But the beloved white stones lit the way. I felt the familiarity of this walk, these stones, the lavender, rosemary, lemon balm and those precious lamb's/Phoenix ears....they make me cry everytime because I feel your ears in my hands. I am flooded with that sensory memory of us walking beside one another and I reach down and hold your ear, like it's your hand in mine. Has it been over a year? That hardly seems real. A lifetime ago and...just yesterday. I long for the simplicity of us.

Today i told A. the story of the dress you sent me last year, just a month or so after you were taken. Remember how I would go to work so sad, so so very sad and sometimes I would leave on my break just to go cry. That day I went to Goodwill because sometimes I experience magic in Goodwills. I go in and defocus. I let go of intent of finding any particular thing. My eyes lead me and I often find the most interesting amazing things. So, I went that day in hopes that maybe something would find me other than the intense longing for you. There I stood in front of some rack of anonymous clothes, crying, longing. And then, the magic: you turned me around and I heard you tell me something like this without words, "There, that is the dress I want you to wear when you think of me." And there was the most brightly colored dress full of shapes related to the ocean--starfish etc. That was just like you to send me something so happy, so joyful. That's how you were most of the time--jolly, happy and playful, except when I left. Then you were sad. We called you "Mr. Sad Sacks" because you were bereft when I left and forever waiting for my return.

So, tonight I'm feeling sad sacks, myself. I wore that dress today and loved remembering the story and getting to tell it. It takes me to you. I've been so focused on other things these days, since my Return at Spring Equinox, that when I remember you, sometimes it feels like a different lifetime. Then tonight, the grief rushes in again, your ears in my hands.

I miss you. I miss our Life that was you and I. Things feel somewhat tentative right now with different aspects of my life. I do realize that a solid ground is important for me, so I feel renewed in my commitment to maintain as much of that as possible. Not because I fear change or cannot deal with instability. Shit I've lived a year of that. No, there are relationships in my life that are ground for me, like you were, Phoenix, only different. I don't know if I'd be ok without those grounds. Not because I am not capable of creating that for myself, but because I want ground with these particular relations.

Likewise there are relations that are water for me, like you were, Phoenix, only different. These relations flow. We merge and follow through the depths of emotions and the unspoken with one another. It's a watery place. We are are not afraid of getting stuck here because we know the logic of flow. I don't know if I'd be ok without these waters. Not because I am not capable of creating that for myself, but because I want flow with these particular relations.

I want a place to root and I want a place to flow. I need both. I want both. And this post has certainly flowed to somewhere other than I originally thought. Thank you for the space to follow, Phoenix. Thank you for the guidance of your ears.
My deepest love,
Me

How Then Shall I Live?

Dear WEb and Phoenix,

Those words "How then shall I live?" came to me last night after a day of intense emotional pain and distress. I feel like I am beginning to experience myself as that womyn I write about who, after Phoenix was killed, "will never be the same". I knew that was true almost immediately that night, March 19th 2010, when I collapsed to the floor, after hearing what that man did to my beloved. It was a thought/felt sense that registered deep inside and has taken a while to recognize on the surface. The last year, that deep knowing was recognizable through the immediate and constant grief and awareness of loss, being without Phoenix. Being without that Life that was Phoenix and I. Last night, I felt it register at another level as I sat with myself in this new place of pain and distress that has to do with causing pain and distress for someone I deeply love as a result of actions I have taken, words I have spoken, promises I have broken.

I remember distinctly feeling that "oh, this is me now." No, not like: oh, look how I am such a bad person now! (though I have had that voice to wrangle with!) But it was more like, "Whoa, look where I am now. I've not been here before. I don't know the way at all. I am changed. I am different. And now the affect of that is registering around me." I do not take this lightly at all. Just because I am not paralyzed by this like I've been over the last day or so, doesn't mean it's not still serious or profoundly sad and unresolved. I think writing about it is an attempt to tell myself that one level of what is happening here, what I am doing here, is an answer to that question: How then shall I live? After the loss of Phoenix, and choosing to live, there is that question of HOW shall I live.

I choose to live in ways that nurture my Wholeness. Without that, I can be of no service to anything of worth. And, I do want to be in service of Spirit in the ways that my Beingness instinctively knows. And I don't know if going towards this thing that has caused disruption in my life is THE THING, that is, THE end ANSWER. It seems to be part of an answer to the question about how shall I live because it feels like it is moving paradoxically towards Wholeness. It feels like it's moving towards saying yes to parts of me who need this next deepening step towards tending Her/Me and thusly, perhaps, greater service. And the cost of THAT...well, the cost of that risk of moving towards this thing, I pray is not more expensive than not moving.

I am not being specific in detail because I honor the wisdom of discernment. I place this on the WEb as an act of recognition of what harm I have done, what I have risked, some of why and my intent for Wholeness.
And so it is.
And so, Phoenix, this is how I am living now without you. I miss you and your devotion, especially now, but always, forever.
Me
PS...last night my student's dog died. She spoke about how the hardest thing was that B. had always been there to help her through hard things like this...and now she's gone and my student is left here to deal with this huge grief without her beloved companion. No words. None.

Returning from Phoenix

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,

I am wondering what there is to say today. I've been gone from home this last week and just now getting back to my Life here. Phoenix, it was so deeply comforting to see your name in so many places there visiting with my parents. The newspaper, t.v., signs on trucks, signs on roads, signs on stores...almost everywhere I looked your name met me. One day while in a store, that song, our song, came on and I nearly crumbled. And it was the very store later where my mom bought me a jacket that has your name across the chest. She told me, "Now you can keep him there, over your heart." It was very sweet that she understood the significance and wanted me to have that symbol. If she only knew...and maybe she knows something of our love.

Now I am back home. It was hard to leave Phoenix, harder than ever. Deep sad parts of me felt like I was leaving you. I know that's not true. I will never leave you. And...the grief believes otherwise. There is a student of mine whose dog is old and has been sick recently. She just told me about it yesterday and I've been sad for them ever since. The level of devotion that lives between them was so obvious even though I'd only seen them together once outside class. It reminds me of that tearing apart again. I would never make a good counselor for women who love their dying dogs or have lost their beloved dogs. There is nothing I can summon to say from my heart that sounds comforting. It's hell. All we can do is see if we can and want to live through it. I did. Yes, I did. And, I didn't always know I was going to, or going to want to.

I think that's all for now. I am missing you today. When my Life quiets, I feel your absence. I feel the vacancy that was once you and the life that was you and I. I don't always cry when I feel it now, but I am still aware of it. And I am aware of the Life that is still there, that I've decided to Live, that would not be Alive if I'd chosen differently. I am grateful for you and for this IT that is Alive to be Lived, however that ends up looking.

You are my beloved, Phoenix. Always.
Yours,
Me

Sometimes...

Dear WEb and Phoenix,

"Sometimes, it takes a rainy day, just to let you know, everything's going to be alright..." Chris Williamson, The Changer and The Changed

It's raining right now and I heard these lyrics in my head. I played this song today when it was sunny, no sign of rain, actually, and I felt just a moment's worth of peace.

I don't know what else to write, really. I noticed the date today: 4-4-11 and wondered if the day would be significant in some way. Cannot say for sure how. Though I have had some awareness of some possibility of why I've felt so intensely these last few days. I think I've been encountering some pre and peri-natal relational blueprinting. May sound strange, and I'm really not prepared to put the details on the Web. Suffice is to say, though, that I've realized that in being at that level of consciousness, it makes sense that I've felt a level of life or death, sink or swim, kind of anxiety. And it makes sense that I feel protective of this awareness; tis a vulnerable state to be in and to be aware of the subsequent projections onto others. To admit that to others is to admit that they have some kind of power over me, could use it to hurt me, manipulate me etc etc. To admit it to myself is humbling.

And in all of this uncovering of possibility, I can totally see how I've only really relied emotionally on my animals and a particular counselor. Everyone else is a chronic disappointment and I push them away or keep them at bay. And it even makes more sense how deeply connected I was/am to Phoenix. He was/is my Guardian in so many ways, mostly because he never left me...was totally devoted. And it makes even more sense too why the loss of him has been so devastating. And why now (after I've moved through the keyhole of a needle) that these newly formed connections with others who are not four-leggeds feel so intensely good and intensely difficult. Or at least I understand some more of other reasons why these fierce love connections are affecting me so much now.

So, I guess there is significance to this day of 4-4-11. Pairs of numbers--two are separated and two are together.
I am grateful to be in a state right now in this moment of curiosity. Though it could change at any time, and probably will, particularly in the company of others when I will probably withdraw again there to the middle of the channel, swimming and treading water.
Love,
Me
PS..I am also readying to visit my family in Phoenix in two days. Fascinating timing.

...no matter what

My dear Phoenix on the WEb,

Thank you for that song today, our song, the song on the radio. The one you repeatedly sent to me this year when I needed to hear something from you in that shattered/fragmented place. I heard it today driving between worlds--on my way away from one towards another. I took it as a sign, a sign that reminded me of what the loss of you has asked of me: integrity to Living, fearing less because I have chosen to Stay in spite of the worst loss imaginable, and risking love. And right now I am feeling so not here nor there, borderless, in the middle of a swim across a deep channel of water, both shore lines far away and unavailable. It's just me here, me and my pounding heart.

For a long time, as long as I can remember myself, I have felt my emotions being too much for those people close to me, with few exceptions mainly who are/were counselors who I pay to tolerate these emotions, of course. It's been an unspoken criticism in relationships. It's like the proverbial white elephant. I have spent years shaming myself, quelling them when I feel the intolerance/discomfort and sometimes just shutting down. I remember a family member a long time ago one time saying to me, "You are just too Deep for me. I like things simple." This was after sharing a poem I'd written. While this person had the audacity to say what I knew others felt about me, it still went inside and hurt. This is how I've felt others respond to my emotional being. They prefer things more simple, not large like my sadness. I don't blame them really. It's taken me years to find a place of compassion for myself.

And I do have compassion when I am in the throws of my sadness. I've found through years of a counselor holding space for me there that that is the only productive way through the wide channel of water. Any other way, I feel like part of me drowns. Still, though, someone close to me today spoke the truth about what I've known from them for many years--they named the white elephant. And while I was struck with that relief thing that happens when someone says the truth, inside the shame began to choke me. I had to eventually take myself to my room, hold my arms tightly around my middle, holding myself together. I had to say the words aloud to myself: "I am the womyn I am because I know how to let myself swim through the sadness, as long as it takes. As long as it takes. As long as it takes." And...."If I didn't do that, they (those who hate this way about me) would hardly recognize this womyn that they love. Don't they see, I am the way I am because of this."

So that is true. And so is the huge anxiety in my chest that says, I'm defective. I'm a victim to my sadness. I should be...blah blah blah blah. I am weak. Oh, yes, that's a big one. My sadness and tears make me weak. I do feel weak when I am there. That is certainly true. And, it's also true that i feel stronger on the other side, most of the time. Maybe not stronger...maybe more in touch with myself.

Finally, as I've said in another letter to you, I believe that this last year has held me accountable to another way of Being in the world. I fear i will lose something that has been precious and strong and loving to me because of that...maybe that I will consequently lose more than just one thing, it may be many things could reorganize because of that. My heart pounds in my chest even louder now having written that. And my breath becomes more shallow. I have to let go of one shore in order to swim to the other, something in me says right now. There's no promise that the shore will remain the same, or that the other will not be recognizable either when i get there.

Thanks for getting this on the WEb, Phoenix. And for sending me that song as I move through the neither here nor there. Thank you for meeting me there with your proclamation of love.
Here's mine: (whispered words and gesture) no matter what.
Me

Ain't nothing but a hound dog

Dear WEb,
As I am readying for another class tonight--this would be the exact week that I came back to teaching last year after Phoenix was killed--I feel called to write.

Earlier I was combing my music for a song for the opening to the class where I invite the students to begin the process of separating themselves from the outside world, from distractions of the day, things that are hounding them still, stealing their energy away from having an experience in the next three hours of circle. This week I will have twine for them to cut and symbolically tie around themselves to represent those things that are still pulling on them. As they are doing this part and thinking about those things, I needed some music to play. After a while, I stopped looking through the typical cds that have more spiritual music and got more outlandish. Finally, I found it and when I did, I busted out laughing: Etta James' rendition of "Hound dog'!

As I listened and danced to it, I smiled because I knew who stepped in and led me right to this song. Dear beloved Phoenix, my wolf and houndog mix! Just like he always could do, I found myself happy, knowing this was it! Spontaneously IT! And, my dear Beetle, who was watching me dance also smiled. See, she is part hound too, and no doubt had her paws in this doing too!

Thank you dear Loves.
Thank you.
Love,
Me

My heart still weeps

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,

Not much to write at all except: I miss you. I miss the way you light up when we see one another. I miss your ease. I miss my ease with you. I miss your body against mine. I miss your wildness and playfulness. I miss the integrity of the Life that was you and me.

I have passed through the keyhole through a needle and I still look back and miss you so much. Tonight it's pouring out of me as I feel the motion of my life continuing to move. I grieve this life without you still. Even though much has been made over the year that is good. Goddess good. My heart still weeps.

Love,
Me

On the fence with something wild

Dear WEb,

Last night I dreamed of Phoenix again. This time he and Beetle were in the back yard of this house together. I went outside to see them. It was dusk and we all stopped in our tracks watching a squirrel right there at the fence. Beetle and Phoenix were on alert, but not moving. Then just as the squirrel jumped through a space in the fence, Phoenix and Beetle lunged toward the fence, unable to keep still any longer. The squirrel shapeshifted into a coyote as she passed through the fence and came out the other side both as coyote and squirrel. The coyote had caught the squirrel which really now seemed like a rabbit (sorry, are you keeping up?) and killed it. We all watched, and I felt grateful for her mercy killing because the rabbit was crying loudly once caught. Then the coyote turned and placed her paws on the top of the fence. Phoenix did the same from our side. Their noses were close to one another, sniffing. I watched, so in awe of this connection and exploration. I said either aloud or in my mind to Phoenix, "Good boy. You're doing so good." A few moments he would sniff closer then do a sudden quiet growl and pull back ever so slightly. I could tell he was drawn to the wildness, curious and also still on guard. It was such a sweet moment because I felt he was still alive and we were having this experience together here at this new home. All seemed magically possible and wonderful.

While I didn't wake up sad, later on the way to my dentist appointment, missing came again. And while the dentist was drilling my filling out, I took refuge in that moment with Phoenix at the fence, calling him forth from that dream to me there in the chair, saying, "You're doing so good." I don't understand why this makes me weep then or now. It does. The dream captures moments like Phoenix and I would have together when he was alive. I miss him. Will always miss him. I am grateful for the dream. It reminds me of the texture of the fabric we wove together. I pull it to my cheek and cry...and hear myself, maybe him, tell me: "You're doing so good. It so hard to be there on the fence with something so wild. Go ahead and growl. Then sniff. You're doing so good. I love you."

Me

The Path of Return and Staying

Dear WEb,
So, I come to this writing to reclaim again, something of myself. The clouds yesterday, on Spring Equinox proper, spoke my name. I may never know fully why nor fully why the wind picked up and howled against the window beside me so suddenly last night as I was finishing that post. It didn't sound like that the rest of the night. I am on the Web. That is certainly clear yet again. And for some reason, perhaps, it was particularly important to be reminded of that yesterday, the day of Return, Spring Equinox.

This weekend was an intensive experience of Return. Friday night, I ritualized an important piece of reclaiming myself from the trauma of Phoenix's death 52 weeks ago. Before that actual ritual, I broke down. The terror came back and I could not go forward through the eye of the needle. I was at that familiar precipice where it felt like going forward would be to go into insanity and to stay still, hold the Wheel from turning, was of course not in my control. I raged and wept, tantrumed and twisted myself in such despair. All the while a sister sat behind me, quietly, lovingly. At some point, the raging calmed and I opened my eyes totally disoriented. Where am I? How did I get here? Where is my home and my familiar things? In my hand I gripped a small wolf sculpture my partner had gifted me that morning to commemorate the anniversary. It was a touchstone. I remembered that/her root. And still I looked around me and felt like a ghost trying to remember her substance.

I reached my hand up to my face to remember myself, what I felt like to myself. Then I let my hand touch my heart, my arms, my legs, the back of my neck...slowly, slowly remembering my physical substance. Eventually, I took my sister's hand and tracked the same path of myself, feeling what it was to feel another's touch. As it seems to often happen, there came another wave of sadness, terror, despair and I let her hold me close while I wept again. At some point (all of this happened outside of time, so to record it like there was some linear sequence is actually inaccurate) I touched the pain again, there on the edge of sanity. And, somehow when at the same time I felt the pain there on the edge, I felt something else that was distinctly not pain. It was Love. And, without trying to sound dramatic, I think somewhere in me decided to Stay because of that touch, that moment.

This past year has been filled with moments. Moments of deciding to stay, or not, and everywhere in between. There has been no linear progression. I have experienced the Wheel moving in increments and with every increment I have met myself. And on this particular increment, of 52 weeks, I met myself again at that precipice and 'felt myself go free'. Maybe that is what the clouds reflected. I really will never know.

Last night Phoenix was in my dream. He was in the home of my childhood, beside the family card table. Maybe that means he is there in that dimension with me, the dimension of my childhood where perhaps I most need him now to be with those young parts of me. Those young parts of me who are playful and miss their beloved companion, especially since something deep has shifted and I've more fully decided to stay.

And, I wish the story could stop there with 'And I lived happily ever after'. I would certainly welcome prolonged peace and settledness. I did have some lovely stretches this weekend like that. Yes, I did. For them, I am tremendously grateful. They linked together to perhaps create the beginnings of a path for me beyond the eye of the needle. Staying is complex. I can tell that already now at this level of things. Staying in connection with others is even more complex. I've encountered how hard that is already--how do I risk intimacy again when my grief has held me at bay from others? how do i not be consumed by intimacy? how do I regulate that closeness? Wouldn't it be all dandy if I didn't have to pay attention to that? Where it could just always be a 'love in' like they preached in the 60's. No, I would not like that at all. I am way too particular with who I love and how I love and how and what I let in to love me. Call me what you will--prudish, tight, controlling etc etc. And, what I know is that my love is precious---not everyone deserves it. And, I don't just want everyone's love either. No matter how seemingly precious. So, call me what you will. I call me, me. Or, the what the clouds call me!

Finally, today this day after the actual Spring Equinox, that resident at work who I saved from choking months ago came up to me today and said: "I love you". I smiled and blushed and thanked her because I knew she meant it. (there is a story here to tell another time too). She then said, "Honey, you have the world by the tail." I laughed and said, "Actually I think She has me by the tail!" Not sure what that all means, but it rang true. We both laughed.

Thank you, Web. You've got me by my big bushy tail, no doubt!
Love,
Me

My name in the clouds

Dear WEb,

Well, I have to just tell this because it is so stunning. It's the thing many of us crave--a sign from Spirit that is unmistakable.

I was driving on the highway to see C. for a session. Nothing in particular in my mind. Listening to the radio. Mulling over some things from the weekend, probably (which deserve some recording here, but cannot now.). I look to my left, across the highway to the sky and there is my name written in clouds. I know, I know. You might be thinking that these clouds just LOOKED LIKE my name. No. It was not like that. None of the letters looked like they might be something else. They were printed letters clearly formed into my name complete with correct capitalization of the first letter. There were no other clouds near by. Just these letters. For real.

So, I believed then and now that this simply means that there is much witnessing me right now through all I am grappling with and continue to grapple with. That there are forces larger than my pea brain taking shape around me. That I am being reflected somehow by forces larger than I could control. That I am Seen right where I am.

Whew. Cannot write anymore right now about it. And right now, suddenly the wind has picked up from the West. Is howling against my left side at that window. Whew. I hear You! I hear You.

Thank you for Hearing/Seeing me through.
Love,
Me

I've been kissed by a rose on the grave

Dear WEb, Dear Phoenixx, Dear Goddess,

When does one recognize one has turned the corner? I woke this early morning of the 52nd Friday and the following came flowing to me...or maybe it's been flowing to me all along and I just now woke up to these swirling waters:

You are my power, my pleasure my pain!
Hands, hands, washing and holding hands that have held so much, touched so much.
C., you were one of the last hands to hold/touch Phoenix before we buried him.
My hands remembered. Life and gratitude poured out. How did/do we ever survive such pain? We do/did.
A/O, where did you come from? Have you been here all along? Feathers of comfort and love flow from you.
Owls hooting outside my window just after I hear the first birds sounding.
Two geese flying, soaring, then one...shot and drops, totally letting go. I am shaken by this image because it touches a truth I know in my bones beyond here and now.
Your roots, J., drive deep into the ground around me as your drum tells me not to let go of my sanity. Go to the edge, but don't let go....I witness your pain there on the edge of the grave.
K. beisde me on the floor as I cry into the hardness, the unnegotiable death and loss. She is not scared I will drown.
B.creates an altar of death and rebirth--wings and bones, ancient symbols from our Ancient People painted on cloth.
A rock heart, a heart rock insisted to be taken. you will need it, Phoenix says.
On March 15th, the Ide's of March, a white truck ahead of me, I grow agitated I am behind it/him. I weaken and weep when I remember the killer and the betrayal that followed. The unthinkable. I feel no longer any part of his world. There is so much more....
Myrrh's warm body against mine during the night...in all the years I've not known this feline comfort. And I've needed it so this year.
C.'s belief in me, in the Life force in me.
C.'s beatbox rendition of happy birthday left on my cell phone.
The sound and shaking of laughter in circle.
How can I possible deserve this love? I must.
So much more than writing this down can ever touch. Somewhere I've begun to live again. Somewhere Life found me. Where was that fateful corner? Where was that twist in the labyrinth that i recognize this morning? this 52nd Friday?

I wish I could express this place i woke up to. It was like a collage of the year. and it feels like a year. i have walked this year deliberately, truthfully to myself, for myself and Phoenix, the life that was my Beloved Guardian and I. i have not swayed from the worst and have tried to allow the best to touch me and everything in between. nothing is over...and, to memorialize this moment like all the others feels vital. I turn this corner and allow the current to carry me into the rest of this day and evening, into further depths of Life and Living.

That line from the Seal song that Phoenix sent to me last summer...the one that came on the radio several days in a row after I asked for communication from him...says it best:
"I've been kissed by a rose on the grave."

Kissed,
Me

52nd Thursday

Dear WEb,
I am readying for the Return. Return to the 52nd Friday and the actual date of Phoenix's murder. I've noticed so much of my own inner responses, have been tracking and self-soothing, ritualizing, releasing, caressing, expressing etc etc etc. And just these last several days I've noticed other's responses to me. There are wimmin close to me who I think are quite uncomfortable with my Returning stuff. I've noticed an energetic pulling away when I broach the subject of the approaching dates. It's subtle. I don't think I am projecting. It's a slight turning away...a subtle attempt to shape me. It's not working. I am still being shaped from within and...I am noticing how perhaps for some they've reached their threshold of grief tolerance, or don't want me to stay in the trauma anymore or just are tired of the ride. I don't blame them, really. At one time I would have been just like that probably. Now, though, I will linger however long with myself and anyone else there in that space.

Time is funny. In some ways the actual day/night will be important to be Present to this weekend (which is Saturday, March 19) and in another significant way tomorrow being the 52nd Friday is vital because it is the night I came home from work to find Phoenix killed. While it's not been officially the full 365 days, on this 52nd Friday, I will be ritualizing for myself a Return to that part of me who also was killed. I'll be singing Life to myself, honoring and connecting with that part of me still back then, in shock, in a state of suspended animation. There will be no coersion to Return....no subtle expectation that I be Whole or be shaped a particular way. It will be a conscious connection, a conscious reaching and tending to my tender self there, back then.

And so, I turn the corner tonight. I believe it was 52 Thursdays ago Phoenix and I took a hike and he found that heart rock for me. I turn the corner with that and so much more in my hands and heart.
I love you, Phoenix.
Always yours,
Me

Gift of Life on 3-11-11

Dear WEb,
I am quite tired and want to go to sleep. Have had a big day on this eleventh day of the third month of the 11th year of the new millennia. It is my 44th birthday. And the day has been full of such love from those who love me so. I've felt it. And even more particularly, I've felt the Essence of what they have gifted me: Life. They give me Life back in a way I've not experienced this past year. It's the most precious feeling to feel the Life Force from one who loves me. Truly precious. And it began the day and eve before my birthday. I believe that that was essential on levels I don't quite understand. Something I do understand about it from a biographical perspective is that this last year has been so hard, so horrendously hard that I think it was vital that I feel that Life Force the day and evening before the anniversary of my birth. Almost like I needed that/those flushes of Life Force to sustain the final journey/return out from such depths of loss and despair.

So this is an Honoring of yesterday and today when particularly both A. and J. and so many others helped infuse me with the Life Force again. Thank you, dear wimmin. Thank you. I accept your Love.

And gift you mine.
And so it is on 3-11-11.
Me

Fit

Dear WEb,
Tonight I was awakened by the IT, that is: everything that is in this current carrying me, the good, the bad the ugly. It took me an hour to finally allow some feeling to surface and then maybe another hour for compassion to set in and tell me: 'Of course you are awakened and cannot sleep. Cannot eat. Of course you feel numb. Of course you feel overwhelmed and scared. Of course. You are an emotional Being facing the MANifestation of your worst fear.' I'd have to be dead not to have some experience out of the ordinary, right?

Speaking of dead, the other night during another intensely difficult moment, I heard the words in my head: "I'm not fit to live." The amount of pain I have felt this year and continue to feel has been unbearable and yet each time I find a way through. And...it still keeps coming. Of course. Yes, of course it does, speaks Compassion..... And...I wonder how is someone fit to live and be in relationship with Life if she feels so much pain on a regular basis? The end is no where in sight, except in some sort of memory and then faith that there have been moments of not pain and therefore will probably continue to be similar moments. So, I go on. And...is there a threshold of pain? Where she would somehow not qualify to live? Where all who say they love her will leave her no matter how Amazon their love is because they don't want to be affected anymore by her colossal pain and relationship with unresolved loss??? When they decide they cannot live with both her pain and their own? If they did, I wouldn't blame them, actually.

Fit to live. What else does that mean? It means living in Integrity. It means if I am going to go ahead and risk being left, risk enduring pain that feels like it could choke the life from me, risk loving in spite of everything that has fractured my heart then I will do it in Integrity, Wholeness, Honor and Truth. Yes, these are big words, even bigger concepts that most people strive for. They are not just things I hope for to feel better about myself, I don't think. Though I do want to feel better about myself. I do want to feel relief from the pressure of living. Because it is pressure to live when she feels like dying or like she is not "fit", as in: inherently born, to not live.

Now, I ask myself: do i really believe those words I just wrote? Do I really believe I was born with an inherent flaw that makes me unfit to live? Yes, no, maybe so. It makes me uneasy to consider that. And...the words were there. They came from somewhere in me. Deep in me. So, I listen. And I listen to them in the context of my upcoming birthday and wonder if these words are important information about my beliefs in the womb.

See, i believe I am a twinless twin. That is, that I had a twin in utero. There's no proof. No testimony from my mother. Nothing except my 'knowing' of this. So, anyone could challenge me about that and probably "win" on my lack of evidence. So what? The point here is that it makes perfect sense that Being a Twinless Twin would explain such a deep seeded question: am I fit to live?... in this world.... alone. And yet, there is all evidence to the contrary. I was born, raised by good parents who took care of me, loved me in the ways they could, I look at photos of me as a little girl and I see happiness, not sorrow, not aloneness. Not yet. (that comes later in the photos of adolescence) But happy girl-child. And yet, now as an awakening woman, I feel such sorrow and i feel the little girl-child from those photos totally broken hearted. Totally in despair in losing her beloved Guardian, Phoenixx. The pain is the insanity. Inconsolable pain. The only option being to wait until something comes in, like Compassion, like Beetle's licking face, like rustling leaves, like an unexpected song that tells me to 'stay alive' , like the hand of a sister....on and on ad infinitum. Is this how I live now from this place? Is this being 'fit' or learning to be 'fit' as a twinless twin?

I have gone on this morning about this. More so than usual. I am not in a usual place, the day before my birthday when I will be 44 on the day of the 11th in the year of 2011, And, of course which happens to be the 51st Friday. Damn. And I think normal eating and sleeping and relating are expected???

Phoenix, I miss you. Living without you is excruciating. Impossible. for me. for this emotional Being. And I am living some sort of life: good bad and ugly.
Nothing else to say right now.
Love,
Me

50 Fridays plus one day

Dear WEb,

This morning when I stepped out into the hallway with a yawn and "Good morning" to my partner, I heard the words that my sister's beloved dog of 14 years had died last night. My legs gave out, my hand went to my mouth, and I fell to the steps below me crying. This is too much. I cannot stand this anymore. I have reached my threshold, Goddess. STOP! STOP! this entourage. My heart cannot take it. I cannot continue to hang out in this colossal world of loss. STOP!!

My partner sat beside me as the shock melted away more and more. I felt the familiar dark currents beginning their swirls around me and inside me. J. took my hand and pulled me up to our altar where I had created a mini altar for my sister and her beloved companion, Tess, who this week had not been doing well after a routine surgery on Tuesday. J. said we had to light the candle. She did. I continued to let the tears fall and tried to focus on her words of 'the story' of how Tess died.

I could not breathe and try to continue to distract myself, this flooding against the gates was too much. I could not contain and continue in that world of distraction. I went to my altar, our altar...Phoenix and my altar. The altar that has contained me all winter. These rocks in a circle around dark brown earth. My cave there. The nest with the single feather. The ashes in the shape of Phoenix's bones that rise from "flames" . The single candle in the space between where his snout meets me right outside my cave. I go here. I am inside this ring of stones, protected and held with my Beloved. This is where we have met during the Deep time. This is where I am untouchable by the outside. Where only Phoenix and I are together. Without distraction. It is a clearing. Just for us. No one to explain to, hide from, mask the colossal loss or try to temper their inability to join me there. I laid here for a while. I asked J. to drum for us and I dropped deeper into the ground. Feeling the weight of myself, of all of this again.

And Beetle came to me there. She licked my face entirely, so gently, while my hands rested on her ears. She stood over me and let me touch her legs, feeling her standing, while I could not. And somewhere in there, in that clearing and that collapse, I understood what it is that most others do not, or I don't think they do. There is a space that exists between those who love one another, who are Beloved to one another. This space has a life of it's own...it's what I have called: The Love/Life that was Phoenix and I. It's a space, a Beingness, for lack of a better way to describe it. And when there is a severance here in this space, this Beingness....well, that is what I feel that brings me to the floor. It's not just that Tess died unexpectedly at 14 years old. It's the death of that space Tess and Julia shared. And you can get all philosophical about death and say that Tess really isn't gone, just like Phoenix isn't gone etc etc. That's not what I am getting at. It's like trying to explain death to a 2 year old. They do not care about philosophy. It's an annoying distraction from the most obvious thing which is this absence of this precious space/Beingness that no longer is there tangible, audible, visible. It's the gaping absence. The negative space.

So, I have been feeling wrecked again today: knocked around into boulders in this raging river that feels like its careening me towards my birthday next week and then the anniversary the following week. Through the keyhole of the needle, I must pass through all alone.

Chris Williamson also assures me in another one of her songs on that same album, "Ashes": She stands steadfast and She stands on her own. She stands her ground and she stands all alone. She stands the pressure and She stands the pain. And She stands the crazies again."

Me