Gathering...

Gathering

Getting ready for a journey requires gathering and packing the things we need to make the journey. I am looking at and sorting through the stuff I have left-- clothes, some camping gear that will come in handy, as well as some of my magical things, given that I have no clue what sort of things I may want to do once I’m out there, or people I might connect with. As a priestess, ceremony is often called for, even if alone. Gathering also involves taking care of business affairs and all other sorts of things that wouldn’t be easily done and would be worrisome during the time when one wants most to be worry free…

My dear friends have been so helpful in giving me ideas about stuff I need to find/collect in order to make living on the road easier and more efficient. My friend Julia told me about a cool little tool that I might need for protection. It’s a gadget that fits around my hand that, should I come across someone who wants to bother me. Her husband wants to make sure I have one, and I’m really grateful to them for thinking about my safety. Over my years as a priestess, witch, therapist, I’ve gotten to be a pretty good judge of people, and I have a good connection with some source of wisdom that tells me if I should or shouldn’t be in any particular situation. I trust myself, my intuition, and my ability to listen to the messages of spirit, as well as the messages of Mother Earth, from She herself, Her creatures, and all of her rocks, plants, soil, etc.

I have always had a lot of clothes. My close female friends who are close to my size have often benefited from those times when I try to cull the numbers of clothes down by giving some stuff away. I am amazed of late at the lack of attachment I have to stuff, and I’m finding as time goes on, it becomes less and less.

I’m noticing that the mornings are starting to be cooler around these parts, which tells me to pay attention to the clothes I take. I started out with a lot of Summer clothes because it was still in the 90’s and 100’s when I started thinking about how to do this. Now, the mornings are in the 60’s, which feels pretty cool in comparison, yet, and though I may not be staying in these parts, I need to just be mindful of what I take along. So, needless to say, the old full length down coat came out of hiding, got washed and is ready for any sort of weather. One year I remember at Dragonfest, on a Saturday night, the weather got really cold, and it started to sleet in such a way that looked kinda like snow. I remember being so grateful that I’d taken my trusty down coat with me that year—it was great! I got the coat from Landsend about 8-9 years ago, and it’s still going strong—one of the best investments I’ve ever made.

Gathering myself is getting to be a bit of a struggle, which is why I keep busy. I am in a place where I am wanting to say good bye to friends, but my old abandoned child wound rears her little head and wants to somehow sabotage saying goodbye to the people who are the very closest to me by standing them up, avoiding them, or some other such nonsensical behavior that I’ve tracked in myself over the years. I can only hope they still love me by the time I leave, and that I’ll woman up and make sure to see them before I go.

I had avoided telling my biological family about my plans, as I knew they would worry about me. How would they understand the deep weariness that has haunted me in the last few years of depression and physical ailments after my mother died, and after 22 years of single motherhood. This driving desire to just break out of the many boxes that life has put before me, tried to put me in--to just be alone, to hear my thoughts, to exist in a time and space where no one needs anything of me.

  

I have always been the odd one in my family, the one who went off on her own path, I’m still doing it. My cousins have wished me well, I sincerely appreciate it. My youngest brother knew weeks ago, and in this knowledge of his “wild” sister, is being gentle and understanding with me around this. My elder cousin called and I was so deeply touched when she cried about the fact that I’d never asked for help all these years. I mentioned my time on welfare, and food stamps and the many sacrifices I made to be a single mom. I often wondered if they’d ever understand about the various family gatherings I missed over the years because I didn’t have a car that would make it, nor the gas money to put into it. I put myself through grad school on student loans and a desire to create something better for myself and my kids. I have no bitterness or anything, true, I didn’t ask for help, I wanted to prove that I could make it on my own. Yet now, I see the toll it has taken, to rarely have any backup or support for myself, to try to make it in a world that was foreign to my gentle and loving nature…Yet…here I am, still standing somehow, but I know not for how long, so hence…I must go…

Here I am, 57 years old and embarking on an adventure that no one in my family would probably ever think to do. I am the odd one, I’m ok with that, I really am, indeed, I now wear it as sort of a badge of honor given that my life didn’t turn out like anyone thought—including myself…And I sincerely appreciate their concern, and I will take in their prayers, and well wishes…I will always hope that my time alone with just self will help to heal some of the sadness, loss and pain of my life…I hope…

Gathering…support, love, caring, courage, gathering...love, gathering…

Grieving

Over my years as a therapist, I have seen many clients who are dealing with grief. In our culture,  we don’t honor the grieving process in ways that are healthy and helpful. We expect it to have an end date, like on milk in the refrigerator. There is an expectation that at some point, we just “get over it” and move on in our lives. After the Hospice training I took earlier this year, my respect for the “bereavement” process, as it’s also called has deepened. 

We also have this notion that we only mourn the loss of those who have died. There has been much literature written about grieving the dead, the stages, the time periods we go through as we are moving through it. Though, again, I still feel that our culture doesn’t give it justice, we still want to sweep the whole dying process under the rug and forget about it. Perhaps this is connected with the idea that most emotions are too scary to allow, too scary to be on display, too difficult to deal with. 

Again, I am grateful for my Buddhist training that helped me to understand the need to just “be” with our emotions—this is especially important to me as a therapist, but it was also important to me as a person who has experienced much in her life—as we all have…  There is no clean-cut way to get over that or those who have passed.  We just need to allow for the process to unfold, to just move through it, to not judge it, or wish it to be any other way than what it is. It is—it just is. Tears are one of the most healing things we as humans can experience. Beyond just tears, I have found that I hearken back to my ancestral roots, where folks would rock back and forth and pull at their hair. Other cultures call it keening, the woeful, loud wailing of mourning.

In the last few weeks, I have experienced much in the way of loss, I realize that I have spoken of this much here. I am sure that there are those who have read my writings, and wish I’d just “get over it, get on with it”, let’s get to the exciting journey Soltahr’s taking.  And I will. Yet, for me, this is a part of the journey.   So often, in my work, I am struck by how many un-grieved losses we also have in our lives. I would even posit that our grief over those who have died, is often more tangible, easier to track than the other losses. 

When I wrote about the stages we go through when we take a journey, I spoke of the leave-taking. As we prepare, we look around us, and see the smiling faces of our loved ones and friends. I realize that this journey has no structure, I do not know exactly where I’m going, or for how long. Change happens. I am aware that there may be some that I may never see again. Though, realistically, we could have that thought  every time we take leave of our loved ones. So, there is that. Then, there is this sudden rush of understanding how very much they mean to us, how very much their presence in our lives has meant—the things we’ve shared, the things we’ve done, the ways we’ve been together and supported each other. 

It has become really clear to me who my real friends are. I have also noticed that my true friends are clear about asking for what I need, not for what they need from me, this has been an interesting turn of events for me, as I’m so used to being the therapist, consoler, healer, listener, and here I am on the other side of things.  Thanks to all of you, it’s actually very comforting and healing for me, especially to know that there are those who just truly care, and there is joy in letting them care about me. 

Going back again to my Naropa/therapist/ Buddhist training, I am reminded of the fact that while life is suffering, we always get to choose how much and how long we will allow ourselves to suffer. I am choosing today to ease my suffering by shifting my focus in another direction. Death happens, loss happens, that is all part of life. I accept what has happened to me, I embrace the love that has come to me from all those around me who love and care for me. I let go of that which no longer serves me. It is time for me to keep moving onward…

I am aware that today is the New Moon. The tide is turning, it is time for me to allow for it to turn in me as well. I know that the letting go and grieving will continue in their own way in my life, yet, it is time to turn my spirit to the next phase of my journey… 

Gathering…

Seeing Old Friends…perhaps one last time…Part I

I am finding that this whole situation of leavetaking is fraught with emotions I’d not expected or planned for. Somehow I thought I might just sort of wave goodbye and drive off happily into the sunset. But no, old friends are calling up and making it clear that they want to see me before I go. I guess, what this brings up for me is that old Buddhist idea of impermanence and the reality that we are all getting older, and when we say goodbye to someone, we face a reality that we might not truly see them again this lifetime. So, those emotions are swimming around me with my tears. I forget that I’ve forged bonds with many folks, some I don’t see very often, some I see every now and then, some…

So, to see old friends is in a way very beautiful, as it means we are getting to connect with each other, and to hug, and share the warmth of times gone by for those few seconds before we part…for who knows how long. We also get to reforge and strengthen that bond, with the realization that we can wish each other the best, and we can pray for each other and remember that there are people out there in the world who love and care for us. This knowledge is priceless—in this often cold and uncaring world—this knowledge that there are those who care for us is priceless.

Earlier this week I got to see my old friend Les. Our relationship is one of sister and brother in the craft, priest and priestess who have shared moments with the divine in so many ways. It is always a treasure to talk to someone I don’t have to explain myself to, or to feel  that I might sound bizarre or strange. After being around non-craft men, I’d forgotten what it feels like to talk about deeply spiritual events and happenings. I’ve missed that—a lot. I’ve always wanted to be more connected with men of the craft, yet, they seem to avoid me, or something I’ve not yet figured out yet. Either way, thank you Les for just being you, and asking for my company before I set off on my adventure. ,It helps to have a brother in spirit who understands deeply the oddities of our beliefs, and the living of them.

My Saturday was spent with another old friend—Tsunemi. She’s originally from Japan, and was also a single mother a good part of her daughter’s life—like myself. It is a treasure to have someone who understands how hard it is being a single mom—first, then, how hard it is to be a single mom and a woman of color. We talked a lot about a certain ideal in some parts of the mainstream culture around “kicking out” their kids when they are 16 or 18. We both understand the preciousness of time spent with our young ones, and how repulsive this idea is to most families of color. Our sense of it is that the world is harder for our children, like it has been for us, and it’s necessary to make sure they feel ready to go, when they finally decide to.  I argued this point with a white male friend of mine who insisted that he grew up really fast when his family kicked him out at 17. He couldn’t understand the point about how when he once got out into the world, he had/has much more power than others. He felt it “toughened” him up, which I suspect it did. Yet, the bonding between we who allow our children to decide when they will go is very deep.  Our way of helping them to become strong is to spend time helping them to prepare for a world that won’t always accept them, or like them. Both of our children are young women of mixed racial heritage, hence they also have to deal with the issues that come with being seen as exotic, or as not who they are. Helping them to form their identities and to feel good about themselves is crucial. Either way, she and I shared tears over how hard it is to see our young ones go, and to face the resulting loneliness of not having mates or partners to ease us into our elder years…  We also laugh a lot, knowing that laughter is truly the best medicine for the pain and sadness we feel. And laughter shared is more powerful as a form of healing the wounds the culture inflicts on us daily. This sharing allows for our true human emotions to come forth, in a safe, welcoming, accepted, loving way.

Last night was dinner with Julia. Another dear old friend who has shared the “priestess” path with me.  Our history goes back so many years, we can’t really remember how long. As always, we spoke of the shared experiences of being “strong women” and being seen as sort of iconic by our community.  Elders…it was hard for us to imagine ourselves in this position at this stage in our lives. We talked about all we’d done over the years for the Dragonfest  organization, and how there is an asking around about “where are the elders”? Remembering that we too had asked those same questions, yet now with the understanding of arthritis, tiredness, and all that goes along with the aging process. And, that forever hands out gesture of our community, wanting us to give and give, endlessly for free! We get it now why over time, the elders have died and or disappeared into the land of aging and in time, so shall we…

Tonight, I am at  my friend Jennifer's. She and her mother live in separate parts of a house that is called Jen-Lo farms here in Lyons. Her mother helps children with Autism, etc. and Jennifer is a CNA in one part of her life, and a rugged, endlessly passionate activist the rest of the time. Our children grew up together because she too has a set of twin girls the same age as mine. She is currently engaged in preparations for a major political action in the town of White Clay, South Dakota. The website is: http://www.battleforwhiteclay.org, which is also the title of an award winning documentary about what is going on with the Oglala Lakota (also known as the Oglala Sioux Tribe). The action is about a:

Women’s March to End Genocide 2012: The Life Givers of the Nations say no more alcohol in White Clay

It is my hope to go, as I've not taken part in a political action for some 11 years now, and to stand as an ally to the Indigenous people/women would be an honor for me.As an aside, if you wish, please go look at the website to understand the issues at hand--ages old issues of genocide...

My desire to return to activism as part of my journey is great and deep.

It is always amazing to me to look back over time with friends, to see where we were, and where we now find ourselves in the flow of life, and the turning of the wheel.  

Letting Go…

The Oracle path is not the one I follow, but then, most witches consult various forms of divination to be able to get ideas about what one is dealing with, and what might lie ahead.  I started using the Fairy Cards about 8 years ago. I’d walked into a little Tibetan store on Pearl Street in Boulder, and they were sitting out. I pulled a card, and the one I pulled was called “New Opportunity”. A few days later, I was offered a position at Naropa that would pay well, and give me a chance to practice my newly honed Multicultural Counseling skills as the Diversity Coordinator. The very next day, I went back to the store and bought the deck.

Every so often, I find it necessary to look at my various decks, just to make sure that all the cards are there. Last year, I’d looked at all the cards in my Fairy deck and found out, to my horror, that one was missing. I couldn’t imagine where it could have gone off to, as I try really hard to take care of my decks, and to keep them safe and protected. So you can imagine my surprise to find a card missing.

Today, as I was going through my many, many books, and trying to figure out which to keep and which to sell, I happened to open one book and the bookmark that was holding some place or another was the missing card. I had to gasp and laugh all at the same time…The card from that deck—“Letting Go”! 

It’s not as if I didn’t know what this time in my life is about, it’s just that I hadn’t been thinking as deeply about the reality of it all. Due to my education at Naropa, and the Buddhist influence that I can’t help have in my thinking, I’m reminded that there is a certain grace in being able to just let go. I have held on to so many things throughout my life, and it’s always been hard to let go, yet, I’m finding it suddenly much easier than in the past. I think over the last year, and how I never would have imagined myself in the place I’m at just now.

My daughters are happily on their way to being young adult women, doing their lives as they wish, without the influence, though hopefully, some underlying guidance from their mother. The grief I have felt in my empty nest state has been different than any other grief state I’ve encountered in life. It’s not as though they’re dead, and they didn’t leave in malice as though in a break-up of an intimate relationship, they are just doing what all young people need to do at this time—flying away under the power of their own beautiful, gossamer wings. Their loveliness astounds me at times. They are open minded and open hearted, and they care about the world and others around them. I see the touches of my ideals displayed in how they act, and interact with others, and I can’t be more proud.  

I think back often to the many years when it was just the three of us. I can still see in my mind’s eye the four sweet little eyes looking at me at various times over the last 22 plus years. It always  felt like a sort of curious open scrutiny. I was the main player in their world, the big mommy person who took care of all their needs. I held, bathed, changed, fed, rocked and cuddled them endlessly. Those early times now feel so very far away in time. In recent times, I got to see those same four eyes look at me with a slightly different view—their mother still, yet also another adult, whose life intermingled with theirs. They began to form opinions about things I did and who I dated, etc. Occasionally even giving me their opinions on things I was doing. And, I was happily surprised to hear how very accurately they see life now. Most recently, when we were talking about my last boyfriend, my youngest looked at me and said –“Mom, you could do so much better”. That stunned me, yet at the same time, again, I felt great pride in knowing that they had learned to look into others, and had become good judges of character as well. Yet, and underneath that statement was a sense of also wanting what was good for me, as I have always wanted for them. Amazing on so many levels…

I introduced them to the Goddess path from various angles when they were young. While we have agreed that actually, anime’ cosplay is their religion nowadays, they are also able to see through the fallacies of organized religion, and how harmful it can be. I guess like any parent, I wish they would want to follow my path, but I know, truly, they have to find their own way, and I trust that they have enough information, exposure, and clear mindedness to find what they need someday. And I will bless them on their choices.

I have also had to look at all of my possessions, the stuff I so dearly clung to over the years, all the stuff I wanted to have, and thought I needed. Over the last few weeks of sorting and purging, I have come to be more clear about what is really necessary. On the last day of my moving, there was still a lot of stuff left. I was bone tired, from having stayed up all night, eaten little, and was just mentally and emotionally exhausted. I had a moment of weeping, then, when I was done. I simply pulled out my phone, called my dear friend Paula, and asked her to post a note for me on freecycle to let them know that I was moving and couldn’t take it all with me. Upon hanging up, I scoured through, picking up the things I knew I needed, and then within 15 minutes, folks just started arriving. My cathartic moment came when a little boy held up a big silver star I’d had hanging on the side of the house. He looked at me emploringly, and asked how much it would be, and I said—happily I might add, take it, it’s yours…I saw right then that I could let go, that if that silver star brought that little boy some moment of joy, then so be it. Who am I to hang onto it? 

At some other point in my life when I was more addicted to stuff, I would never have been able to do this. Yet, it felt so trivial. There around me were my daughters, friends who’d come to help, and myself, free, and ready to move to the next phase of my life, and I knew I had all I really needed.

Letting go…how tightly that clinging can leave us with nothing in our hands but shifting sand….

freedom, homelessness, journey, walkabout, love, connection, possessions, needs, wants, relationships...

I don’t feel the fear I thought I’d feel, I’ve let go of that, too…

The Good Guest  (8/3-8/7/2012)

As I move out into the world—a woman alone, I realize even more deeply and clearly how well my dear aunties prepared me for living life. I’m sure a lot of it was conscious, but there had to be a great deal that was not, a great deal that was simply what they learned from their mothers, and their mother’s mothers. I am hoping with all my heart this morning that I gave my own daughters all those same important skills. I know that they had the sweetest way of saying “thank you’ whenever I’d do anything for them—without fail, that sweet “thank you mom” always punctuated breakfast, lunch or dinners that I made for them. I like to think it is now ingrained in them for their lives as all the things I learned are.

Over the years, I’ve often had friends spend the night, and roommates, and various other shared situations around living space. I think that some of what I learned came from those situations as well. I had one woman friend who was, still is, I guess, a hoarder. She often spent the night; I think to escape from her own living situation. My home was at least mostly clean, pretty much clear of debris—except for the leggos and other various toys that populated the living room when my daughters were young. My friend would arrive always with bags of food, a meal to cook with all the necessary ingredients—I did appreciate that, as she actually was a pretty good cook, even though her own kitchen was often so filled with stuff and dirty dishes, one couldn’t even fix anything more than perhaps coffee or a sandwich. Yet, along with all the many bags of food, she’d bring in mountains of her stuff, and in a very short time, it was all over the house. As much as I could, I would attempt to corral things as I could, but inevitably, she would leave something behind, that would often end up taking up residence in my home for—sometimes—years! Or, another funny trick of hers was to find some large item while scrounging through alleys, or picking up free stuff other folks would leave on a curb. Those things would end up staying in my garage—again, for years sometimes. Sadly, this sort of thing began to wear on my patience over time, and this person is not really in my life anymore…a casualty, I guess, of one not knowing how to be a good guest—you don’t get invited back. Worse yet, people might even leave you out of their life…

I guess I always want to be someone that, after I leave, folks say, gosh, I hope she comes back to visit us again. I would like and feel good about knowing that was the impression I made. Ineed, I will strive to be that kind of guest, I’ll clean up behind myself, offer to do chores, not take anything for granted, and keep track of my own stuff!

What does it take to be a good guest? I think it’s not really so different than being a good person in any sort of relationship.  One must first be simply—aware.  Know what you are getting into, understand the ways of others, know how to say please, thank you, and excuse me…often. If in doubt, say those things more often!

In dream analysis work, to dream of a house is to dream of one’s own body. So, it would also be fitting that whether we are entering another’s home or body, we “should” be mindful, kind and considerate. The old adage about “do unto others” applies here as well. The rape of a body then, is the same as coming into someone’s home as a guest, and destroying it. Much care is needed and required.

Of late, I have felt very joyful in that people are calling me up and actually asking that I be sure to come to spend a few days with them, that indeed, my presence in their home is needed, and wanted. I sincerely have felt so very welcomed and cared about.  Of course, I always think about, wonder and consider, what can I give back for my time there. I’d like to believe that my simple presence is enough, but I’m not willing to rest on just that..LOL! I do offer whatever I can, and I try not to take to much, and I notice if and when it begins to feel that I am overstaying my welcome, and that it might be time to move on.  Help me to always be a good guest, and to bring what I can to the lives of others, and to leave things better than when I came…

The journey begins…

….And Inanna was laid low…

The “hero(in)’s" journey has been looked at from so many various angles down through time. As a woman who follows the Divine Feminine, I have had my own circuitous journey throughout my life. This time is just yet another point on the ever turning wheel, and it makes sense for me to see it that way, as well as helping me to feel more sane. Otherwise, it might be too hard to take…

Every journey begins with the leavetaking, although, as one begins to go on the journey, one actually starts making preparations long before, even though it may not have been seen as such.

Inanna began to speak to her mate, her people, the various players on her life, letting them know that she was leaving, and alerting them to the fact that she really didn’t know what she would be facing, but to be willing to lend a helping hand if need be. Though in none of this was she asking to be kept in any way from the perilous parts of her journey that she was sure she would encounter.

While I don’t fancy myself as a Goddess, I do recognize, that over the years on my spiritual path, I have been being prepared by many helpers from beyond this plain of existence. I have been taught that on this path one holds a different perspective towards life. I hold life to be most sacred, and not just my own, but the lives of all around me.  I know that having life and breath within me are the most important things in life. That is the place we begin from—always. Maslow has taught us that we also have these other needs—shelter, food, etc. While those are important, on up the scale self-actualization is at the top, is what we supposedly strive for. Though old Maslow felt that all of those other things needed to be in place before we could even begin to make it to self-actualization.   

Yet, going back to Inanna, we see something different happening, something unexpected, and her response to it is surprising, given her stature as “the Queen of Heaven”.  She passes thorough 7 gates, on her way to meet  Her sister  Erishkegal. At each gate, She is challenged about Hher identity, and each time She explains that She is the "Queen of Heaven", seeking to meet with Her sister, and each time, She is admonished to give up some symbol of Her Queenly stature, and, each time, She does. Removing at various gates, Her crown, Her rings, Her necklace, Her belt--all of Her personal symbols. Finally, She has nothing left to remove but Her robe, and at that removal, she is then naked, and in so being, ready to face Her “Dark” Sister, which she also does willingly.

The loss, the leave taking., this part of the journey is what happens inside of oneself as the losses are faced, many of them natural happenings in life. Some perhaps self-created or thrust upon one because of the circcumstances of ones life.

For me, I face an empty nest, my children have finally flown. I can only hope the all the years with them have been fruitful, I have, mostly singlehandedly, tried to give them good values to live on. Our lives are not about stuff, but about who we are inside, what we believe, how we act around others, how we come to be loving and kind people while also being strong enough to face all of the many hurdles that life brings us.  As I prepared to move and was bombarded with the pictures of my children from babies onward, I came to appreciate them, and who they’ve become. They are sweet, lovely, beautiful young women. I can now only hope that their little wings prove worthy and strong. My love for them is immeasurable, has been, always will be.

I am choosing this time of homelessness and wandering. I think of my comfy bed in a little storage room now, wondering inside how long it will be before I lay my head on my bed again. As I set off to wander, I will have temporary beds, due to the grace of those who have offered. I have become a pilgrim, a seeker. My various dear friends have met the notion of my homelessness with a wide number of responses—one friend was so horrified she asked me to immediately go to get on a list somewhere so that I might find a home. It’s funny that when she told me this, the idea wasn’t new obviously, but I guess I’d always carried within myself a picture of the “typical” homeless person that we see on the street every day. Yet, when I taught “diversity” to my students, it was my desire to help them to not be afraid of the homeless, to not fear or ridicule them, I even sardonically taught them how close any one of us was to homelessness—the loss of a job, depression, loss of significant supportive others, loss.  Yet, while I am facing much in the way of loss, I am not afraid, I am not daunted, I am also suddenly and shockingly aware of how hard it is to face this kind of loss. Identity. That thing that ties us to culture, that tells us who we are, we think. But truly, who are we really? Am I not the same Soltahr if I have no home? Am I not the same person without all of my “stuff”? Then who am I really, if not these things. That’s what I want/need to find out.

Another friend was joyful for me and even gave me suggestions about various forms of housing on the road. Yet another friend has already been doing little walkabouts as we've come to call them, just to find solace and peace from the wild, noisy and intense world we live in. She is offering to help me get started. I admit that a part of this is to seek solace, silence in which to think and just be in. I admit to a little fear, I admit also feeling a great sense of fearlessness at the same time.