Next Day

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,

Good morning.  Woke up wanting to write some more to you.  The labyrinth has been overtaken by weeds this summer.  My neighbor has totally neglected the path.  I've been trying to stay detached and not get involved with her about it as our relationship is tenuous at best.  I've not been walking it at all because of all the weeds and such.  It's been so hard to watch the path be consumed.

Then last week something different happened.  One of the lawn care workers began to weed eat in the labyrinth.  I was so relieved! Then he stopped and moved on to another area of the yard before finishing!  I hollered at him to ask him to finish, but he could not hear me over the mowers around him.  I figured maybe it was just as well not to get involved, so I let it go.  For now.

Then the next day the person who mows my lawn came and I asked him to go ahead and finish weed eating the labyrinth.  He used to take care of that yard when my former neighbor lived there, so he said he'd be glad to for no charge!  He was equally disturbed by how she had abandoned the care of the labyrinth.  I came inside and wrote a letter to my neighbor reporting what had happened and that I went ahead and finished the weeding in the labyrinth because I care about that sacred path and that I would be honored to continue to take care of it while she got caught up on the others things she's trying to get done.

Yesterday walking this labyrinth was the only thing I felt like I could do from that place of the sinkhole.   The hardest part was walking through a large area where there used to be a Lamb's Ear plant.  M. mistakedly mowed it down.  All that is there is black earth and white flecks of the plant.  It looks like ashes.  I shuddered then and now as I recall.  Lamb's ear: Phoenix's ear.  I am shaking inside.  Still so much grief and devastation materialized.

And, it's raining this morning.  I am seeing the rain sink down into the roots of the Lamb's ear and soothing the trauma, the sudden decapitation of leaves and life.  The roots being calmed, their shaking quieting.  The sound of the gentle rain, a sweet humming into the earth, into the Lamb's ear roots.  I ask for regeneration also from this rain in time, from the soothing deep in the roots.  In time.  I know such things take time.  For now, I pray for just soothing.

I am grateful for the Path again being cleared.  Truly.  It's 'just' a configuration, but it's one that leads in and out again.   I need to know that Way even if I'm just wandering feeling oh so terribly lost.  Thank you, Goddess for this Path.  For the clearing.  For the soothing.

I love you, Phoenix, this day of the Crossroads when I decided to live the life that would never have existed if I decided otherwise.  I am quaking with that Yes.  So unsure.  So so unsure of my way.  The other night I dreamed that I went to visit a young person in an institution.  When I came in the room, this young person was sitting in their bed, facing the headboard, howling.  I sat next to them and howled too.  What else can one do?  That is my siren.

Love,
Me

Not a single siren nor arrest

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,

Last night and today have been the worst times so far that I can remember since the nights and days after you were killed.  I have felt so very lost, like I don't know what I'm doing.  I feel out of control of my life.  And the grief has been huge and growing/deepening, like a sinkhole, dragging me further and further in.  At one point in one of the huge surges of grief, I heard an ambulance in the distance and I went right back to the night you were killed and I lay beside your lifeless body, waiting for J. to get home.  There were no emergency vehicles to come help you or make any arrests.  With that awareness, I almost came undone.  I do not know how I will ever recover from this.  I know I've been saying that for over two years now and I still cannot quite convince myself that it is simply True.  I will never recover.  I can stop trying to.  It will never happen.  Not in any way that I will recognize 'normalcy' as I once knew it.

I have left a way of life, I tell myself over and over.  Not just a relationship.  A way of life.  And I've left a womyn who quintessentially is such a good person.  I miss her and her ways of thinking and understanding life, of making me laugh and feel safe.  They were home to me for a long time.  And in this sinkhole now, I feel lost, directionless, without a touchstone of home, of roots.  I am desperate for connection and contact with her. 

That is not to deny any of the new relations I've been growing or what they bring me.  They are not roots.  They are something else that I don't quite know yet.  They feel mutable.  I do not lean very hard on them.  Not because I don't trust them, because I do not trust myself.   Not now.  Maybe not ever again.  I am not looking for a replacement of my relationship with J. in person or in structure.  I've left that way of life.  And this new life now...well, right now it doesn't feel like much of anything that I can hold on to.

And...two years ago tomorrow was the day I met myself at that Crossroads of life and death and I got really clear about choosing life.  That I will not and cannot take my own.  It's not who I am in my Essence/Beingness.  I never knew that for sure about myself before that day.  I am grateful to know this, especially for someone like me who falls into many sinkholes.   Yes, I am grateful and distressed because it means I am staying on the planet, no matter how Lost I am and remain.  No matter how undone I come from the lack of sirens and arrests for atrocities in my life and for wimmin all over the planet.  I honor that Knowing.  And the Work I face most days to endure.

I love you, Phoenix.  Thank you for calling me back to our WEb.
Love,
Me

The Day After Summer Solstice 2012

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
     It is one day past the Summer Solstice and I have been reflecting.  Yesterday, Summer Solstice,  there were two roses in full bloom: one at the back of my house beside your grave site and one right outside my window in the front of the house.  This one is on the rose bush that I've identified with you during that first year in our move here.  Remember, the one that was so beautiful and was such an anchor of beauty for me as I traversed that first year without you!  She is dying, bugs are eating her no matter how much I try to tend her, she is dying I think. But/And yesterday there was one beautiful full blooming rose.  From you?  The other one there by your grave site is from a bush, also dying, that work acquaintances gifted me after you were killed.  Again, was this other beautiful fully bloomed rose from you? 
     Today I've had a quiet morning to myself.  Facing me most often when I get quiet is the grief, still the grief, forever the grief.  I sat down and leaned into it listening for what it had to bring me this time.   Why?  Why did all of this have to happen two years ago?  and one year ago?  Why all the loss?  Why cannot I be in full bloom and still have my beloved companions/Guardians in my life? Why the disconnect?  Why the letting go of such beloved Beings?  Why the cost?  I just don't understand and inside I feel crazy trying to face it and explain the inexplicable.  I don't believe in cosmic exchanges, that is the sacrificial giving up of one thing to gain another.  I don't think the Divine/Life Force works that way.  So, I don't know how to make meaning of this, to try to settle this unsteadiness about it all.  Most of the time nowadays I just keep moving, facing the next thing knowing that this cradle of ruins and grief also live inside these walls with me.  And there are times like today that I am called back to the cradle to cry and ask why, ask for answers and insights to explain to myself and others and to just sit with the incongruities, the urgent incongruities.
     Thank you for the roses, Phoenix.  I know they are from you. I've been kissed by a rose from the grave.  Again.  Two times this time.  I wish that it made everything better.  It doesn't.  But it does make me weep in gratitude for you on the WEb with me and hope that there is something deeply being rewoven and repaired that I will get to see/experience soon.
My love to you always,
Me

Watching night fall

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
It is the last day of May 2012, a mostly quiet day with myself and Beetle.  I have been feeling so depressed the last several days that today I spent the day doing physical things around the house that need to be done as well as being outside as much as possible.

 Beetle and I went for a walk, our usual path into the woods around the local college.  We came up to a place along the creek where a large tree had been washed off the bank, her massive roots still somewhat clinging to the eroding slope.  Beetle made a spontaneous jump down the bank and then couldn't get back up.  In fact, her whole body slipped down into a hole through the decrepit roots that sunk into a muck that she could not pull herself out of.   I slid down onto the unstable root surfaces and pulled her back up.  It was precarious.  My footing was not secure and there were only a few places where the space didn't collapse with our weight.  Once I got her up from the hole, she went down into the creek bed, shook and then climbed back up. I wasn't sure what was going to happen and I was still very precariously positioned and worried about what both of our weights would do to our grasp as I pushed her up the rest of the bank, then followed her, my feet slipping with each placement.  Once back on solid ground, I felt the adrenaline and then later down the path the emotions came.

You see, Phoenix, these last several days I have been praying for some sense of rootedness again.  With J. gone I am struggling with feeling a sense of ground.  In so many ways, I have not only let go of J., but also a way of life: partnership.  And for all of the ways that structure was not good for me, it was also very good for my sense of place, my sense of home, ground, root.  So, to literally find myself trying to balance myself on roots whose base had been and was currently being eroded, dislodged, was, well, a bit wuwu.  It was like materializing where I am internally.  Not only was I there trying to secure myself, I was there trying to save Beetle.  And, I'm not being dramatic.  I think had I not been able to get her out of that hole, she might have drowned.  So, the desperate imperative to save Beetle added the perfect physical manifestation of how I feel inside.  Freaky.  And...some of the tears that came later came with the words: the roots held.  We are safe.  The roots held for me.

So, the end the day, Beetle and I went down by the pond to watch night fall.  For several weeks and nights before J. moved out last July, J. and I would sit beside one another outside and do the same thing: watch night fall.   I distinctly remember appreciating those times and thinking: I want to remember this, how this feels to simply sit beside my beloved J. as the inevitable happens.  Night falls.  That can be counted on.  So, Beetle and I counted on that root tonight and watched her come through the bats, the sounds of crickets, frogs, birds and water flowing.

I feel like I am facing again the reality of our breakup and all the desperate imperative emotions that go with being so scared of the inevitable and the unknown.  This no doubt is part of my felt sense that my ground has been eroded again and my roots are desperately searching and clinging.  I am so scared.  And, Phoenix, today was a gift, I know.  A gift that there is something that anchors me by reflecting me.  It's not another person.  Or even an animal.  Something more mysterious.  But/and that Mystery certainly works through animals and people sometimes.  But today She was there in the Earth.  In that tree's roots that held my weight, my desperation, my fear and my heavy depression.

My love always to you, Phoenix. wherever you are...
Me

Weeding the Labryinth

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,
I am on retreat here at my home for several days from work, from the world.  We have just passed the two year anniversary of our last time together in the physical.  This year it was the day before you were murdered that felt the most significant.  I played Patti Larkin's version of "Heavenly Day" over and over and sobbed my gratitude for that day, two years ago. 

Today I went out to the labyrinth and began weeding.  While I don't walk the labyrinth as much as I used to that first year when I was walking The Wheel for the first time without you in the physical, I still feel connected to that path.  It was a direction, a way for me to move literally through that troubled year and still offers itself to me generously as I need.  I wanted to pay homage by weeding it, keeping it a clear and distinct path.  As I weeded, Beetle was near by, resting.  She was really calm there.  Unusually so because she didn't keep pestering me to walk or engage with her.  She just sat and watched what was happening around us.  And there was much happening around us: birds moving in pairs searching for nesting materials, perhaps food.  Turkeys and their brood scuttering in the near distance.  A pair of ducks came in for a landing at my neighbors very small pond, then waddled towards the labyrinth not seeing me until they were quite close.  They watched me weed for a while then took flight to my pond.   It is a time of pairs, twos.  And I was touched not only because I have been seeking experience of you and I together again, but also because I realized, here were Beetle and I together in the labyrinth.  She and I have found a bond than is different than before.  It doesn't replace or even mimic what you and I had, and it has its own life of sorts.  Serious.  Playful. Patient.  Without grand expectations of affection (this one I've had to adjust to).  Protective.  Sweet.  My SweetBeetle/Sweetle.

I have come to write you, Phoenix, because I want to remember..  I want engagement with you during this time of my retreat.  This is Spring Equinox...the threshold of death and life.  The shifting of the Wheel from the Deep Inner Time to the Outer Time.  It marks the time, you were taken.  It marks the time that I, too, was taken.  Much of me has returned.  I am seeking the me that is still with you, feels you, knows you, hasn't forgotten and still is in the ashes of a life incinerated.  Not because I want to force anything to change.  No, not that.  That never works.  I am seeking that me to be with, to be closer to you. She holds you close in ways that I cannot do and still go on.  I do not wish to leave her and you behind.  And I won't take her.  But/and I want to remember how to get back to her/me there with you.  I do not want the path to be overgrown, so I cannot find the way, no matter how far I have to travel. 

Originally I was not going to be on the computer at all during this time.  No media, I said.  And, I make the rules; I can break them.  I needed to come here and write you on the WEb, put the Call you to you and to me.  I will continue to clear the path, following the leads back, ok?  So much keeps happening, growing, expanding as the Wheel continues to move and I with it.  And there has been good in this continued moving with the Wheel.  It's not that.  But/and literally and metaphorically I have so much stuff out in my home from teaching etc classes  that I need to put away and/or organize.  Clear the space.  Find my way back,  I want to.  I am not afraid.  This is part of my agreement with myself to live a life worth living.  This is how I have chosen to live a life chosen.  A Phoenix life.

My deep love to you.  I will keep calling for us to meet on the Path backwards.
Love,

Me

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.

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