3/3/11

Dear WEb,
I sat down to write today because I was feeling that 'call', even though not sure what will come and there is much to be doing to prepare for tonight's class. Then when I noticed the date, I knew the beginnings of that 'call'. I can't help this thing I have with numbers. I have to just smile at myself and Spirit. It's some part of our language that we speak to one another. You see not only are there two 3's in today's date, there are also two 1's and my birthday is 3/11. I'll be 44. See? Smile.

So...I'm here, Goddess. What needs expression?

Tomorrow night will be the 50th Friday since Phoenix was shot and killed. I can hardly believe it. This morning when I was waking up, Beetle came up to the side of the bed and stretched while making a sound that was so characteristically Phoenix. I cannot describe it except to say the sound goes right to my center. I had my eyes closed and I saw him drop before my eyes: that tiger striped long legged body darting around me. I saw him run as fast as he could up the hill towards me. I saw him leap off the porch, his back end twisted like and extra 'hurrah!" in the air. Tears fell from my face. Beetle climbed up on the bed beside me, her body stretched out long against mine. I said aloud, "How have we made it this far?" How? How? And, yet here we are two weeks from the Return of the best and worst Friday of my life!!

These increments of time, these individual 50 weeks, have been some of how I've made it so far, I think. Week by week by week: where am I now?... Now?... And now, another week?. Forever locating myself on the Wheel, week by week, sometimes day by day, moment by moment: Is this an "on-the-floor" moment? Is this a "I'm-really-not-alone" moment? Or a "deer-in-the-headlights" moment? 50 weeks of moments. That's how I've made it. And it sounds so damn greeting card-ish. Yes, it does. And...when I say/write it...I know it's no greeting card sentiment. It's the truth from my tissues, my blood, my guts. It's the shape of me which both can and cannot be seen by others. It's the cadence of my voice, the flow of my thoughts, it's the blueprint of every tear that falls for the rest of my life.

Perhaps, to have these increments is the saving grace of it all. I've raged against the moving of the Wheel over and over this turning. It's made me crazy to not be able to halt the movement of Life seeking to return, to repair. The audacity of that in the face of such devastation. I've felt overwhelmed with the approach of this Anniversary that at one time was across the Wheel and now is just two weeks away. I will feel that overwhelm no doubt again and again in this unhalted/continuing intensified approach. The channel is narrowing, I feel the overwhelming pressure of the banks against the current, I am being shunted into facing this more Deeply again at the exact time on the Wheel last cycle when the light was the same. Remember, through a keyhole of a needle...I must pass through all alone. There is no room for anyone or anything else. This is my loss, one that no other will Know like I do even though they may feel similarly from their losses. I feel woosy just thinking of it, want to collapse and give up. And...I have 50 Fridays that join me and say, "This too is possible."

Love,
Me