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