Saturday, January 28, 2012

Tenacious Heart

Dear Phoenix on the WEb, I was awake this morning at 3 am. Now it is 5 a.m. and I've come to you on our WEb. Actually, you came to me yesterday morning at the window, I think. Yes, I think that was you in the form of a wren. The markings on her face were like yours: those sweet dark lines reaching out from your eyes, your shared shades of brown and white, the sweet way you both tilt your head. She got my attention perched on the rose bush, singing so loudly and sweetly. I watched her hop down to the ground then up on the window sill to where she could look inside at me. She really looked at me. Then back to the rose bush, singing. She cycled like this for a while as I watched and wondered about her and about you and I. I've been missing you. I'm always missing you and sometimes the grief just takes me. I do not recognize my life now as a life that you and I would have lived together. I know that sounds strange. Maybe I don't exactly mean that. What I mean is that everything has changed irrevocably since you were killed. I have changed, where I live has changed, my beloved relations with my partner has changed, relations with my close tribe has changed, my life: changed. I cannot even fathom how my life would look the same/different if you were still with me in this, your 12th year of life. And most of the time recently, I just plod along with that sense of irrevocable change. Other times, I am taken by the grief of having lost you and all the collateral losses/reverberations/aftershocks. It disturbs me during those times that I cannot feel/sense you with me. I see your photo, remember your sweet body, smile, greetings, your ways. And, there is a distance that has taken residence between us. I am disturbed by it. And then, yesterday happened with the wren, and I wonder... When I told someone about the wren yesterday, she mentioned that they are industrious, tenacious, and that it might be helpful to look up that word: tenacious. So, I did. Tenacious: not easily pulled apart, cohesive, tough. I wonder now that not only is wren reminding me of my own tenacity at a time I am feeling vulnerable and challenged, but/and additionally she is reminding me of our connection, Phoenix. Not easily pulled apart. Cohesive. Tough. So, I come to you on our WEb with that recognition of us that you brought me through wren: tenacious us. And, I still wish you were beside me, literally. I miss my beloved Companion. Yes, I accept our tenacious love: not easily pulled apart, cohesive, tough. Thank you for staying that way. And there's something that you always brought me during vulnerable times like this now. You brought me a calm confidence in who I am, deep down. I need that right now. Thank you for sending wren. This weekend I will be offering another introduction to the women's class as well as a hosting of another Trance Dance! There is so much uncertainty around both of these 'productions' like who will come, will there be 'enough' women for a class, enough women at the dance to cover the rent on the space, how will things go, will I have the tenacity to overcome my insecurities/self-doubts etc and remain internally cohesive, focused on the energy/reason I offer any/all of this stuff? That is: In Service to something better and greater than patriarchy offers women. To offer a place/space for women to come and experience something else other than what may have been their deficient/distorted experience as women under patriarchy. Even if just for two hours, or three hours,there is a space I can assist in creating that holds back and refuses 'out there.' And I say that fiercely and humbly. I am fierce about doing it and humbled that I can in a way that is meaningful to me and hopefully effective and meaningful to women who come. Thank you, Phoenix, for your tenacity with me, for getting my attention again. You have my tenacious heart. Yours.