Much of what I see is now becoming repetitious and familiar to me.
This is something to strive for because, without the attainment of familiarity,
the significant remains invisible. Immersion in the familiar also brings me a
feeling of tranquility and comfort, a sense that all is right with the world.
The Geese of Beaver Bog
Bernd Heinrich
It’s been a quiet time for me. Many weeks ago I could have jumped to conclusions and imagined that I had lost my mojo. Instead, I have been smudging while walking the golden forest paths at the tree farm, clearing my lakeside garden and planting the winter salad beds here at Wren House, reorganizing my painting/Lifecycle studio, working with Lifecycle collaborators, and serving as Artist-in-Residence at a private school all the while keeping my fingers on the pulse of what feels good, beauty-filled, and true.
Drozda (C), Coppice #1, mixed media/Arches paper, 9 x 12″
On October 19 my dear sister-friend, Sunny/Sandra Mosley said goodbye to her physical life experience. I pause. Not wanting to hurry past this tremendous change. No rushing forward. Instead, I have made the choice to savor the beauty, the laughter, and the creative joy that we shared over the length of our friendship. I also honor her commitment to teaching through her creative work with ZodiacArts.
Sunny left the Earth Mother with dignity, the embodiment of Introspection
The keyword for this moon/month of November is Death and Rebirth/Introspection. In her customary and thoughtful way of doing anything that she placed her attention upon, Sunny transitioned to a noble death.
Drozda (C), Family Tree, Acrylic/board, 36 x 24″
Let’s not forget that it’s as natural to leave, to die, as it is to arrive, to be born, and yet, as we all know, our culture celebrates the arrival/birth and considers parting/death, as such sweet sorrow. Sunny has lived the past twenty-plus years in her dream home of Hawaii. The last time we sat together chatting into the night was in 2012 when Hurricane Sandy barreled up the east coast. Sunny weathered the storm at Wren House her flights were canceled for several days.
Since that time our visits have been long-distance, including our monthly XLC (Extended Lifecycle sessions). Like all Lifecycle collaborators, Sunny wrote a sacred contract just for her and her Higher Self.
She was excited by the idea of crafting a five-year legacy gift so that by the time her newly arrived Great-Granddaughter turned five Sunny would have a treasure to send to her … Sunny envisioned a collection of writings, paintings, stories so that her Great-Grand could hold something in hand.
Best laid plans.
On September 15, two weeks beyond her 75th birthday (September 1), Sunny emailed me to say she would have to cancel our scheduled XLC session. She wrote, “I just don’t have energy. I can’t keep my focus.”
Next, I heard from her in the middle of the afternoon on Thursday, September 23. She described a pain episode that took her to the E.R. She gave thanks for the kind woman doctor who ordered the ct scan. And then, with the results, everything changed. Sunny was informed that her liver was covered with lesions. The doctor suggested that with a few more tests they would be able to discern if the stage 4 cancer was sourced in the breast, ovaries, or colon. Sunny declined the tests. With a stage 4 diagnosis, her primary care physician ordered the hospice bed which was delivered Friday.
That was my last voice-to-voice contact with my friend of three decades.
I am being very quiet now. Sunny’s husband phoned on October 20 to tell me that she had crossed the Rainbow Bridge the night before. He indicated that she was at peace in taking leave.
I began writing this post three weeks ago. I kept falling short on what to say and how to say it. My years of hospice volunteer service, sitting at the bedside listening to life stories, as well as my near-death experience as a young woman, do not lessen my present feeling of emptiness and loss. I encourage each of us to take the time we need, whenever we need it, to filter and integrate the loss of any part of our dear lives. No rush. No need to keep everything moving as though nothing has happened. Things happen that change us. Make a note of that.
2021 is winding down. It has been the Global Year of Change. We roil against things becoming different and we often yearn for ‘the good old days’ perhaps because they appear much clearer in the rearview mirror than the process of looking ahead. Here we are, entering the quieting time of the natural/circadian year. How do you release and let go? What’s next for your heart? What matters to your soul? What does your NOW hold that is good and true and rich in beauty for you? Leave a comment or make a note in your journal. It’s natural now to be about the creative engagement of introspection which leads to strength, as well as so much for which to be grateful.
Life is a balance of recieving and letting go. As I have matured I find that my needs of communion with others comes and goes. I am sorry for your loss. Take care, I would love to catch up soon
Xoxo, m
I hear you, Martine. I read your words and the tide comes to mind. I feel so fortunate to live close to the edge of the continent, to walk at low tide, to experience the gentle, subtle, yet infinitely powerful action of the tides can teach so much about the rhythms of coming and going, connection and solitude, being here and then being gone. The balance. Thank you so much for sharing your wisdom.
Yes! Catching up sounds grand…soon. 😉
How timely your blog for so many of us. I too hadn’t notice the pause, for I’ve taken one on many levels, feeling out of sorts due to human and animals going on to the next adventure, at times feeling like you, that I must ask myself what is next? I am sending you love and respect for your sharing, and ever grateful that is always comes from the heart. It deepens my resolve on answering those questions for myself, as I am very good at side stepping them more often than I should. Nature has been ever helpful to keep me from total retreat, and I pray over these last months of the year we all will be shown our next that the heart and soul are yearning for. Much love to you beautiful soul, much love!
Dear Barbara ~ Thank you for being here and for also bringing in the animals … every living being dies … every living being deserves to be acknowledged, celebrated as well as mourned. Driving back and forth from the beach to the farm I weave a frame of holiness around every animal that has met its end on the road. I silently offer a Buddhist prayer and say thank you for your beauty, so brief.
As you say, “Nature has been ever helpful to keep me from total retreat, and I pray over these last months of the year we all will be shown our next that the heart and soul are yearning for.”
AH HO!!
Thank you, Donna Iona. This has been a season of grief for me too. I hadn’t realized you hit pause…because I hit pause in August. Last week I began a Once Upon a Time story where I offered hospitality to grief, anger, denial, loneliness in the cave of my heart. As I wrote a young friend of mine: I’m in shock. It’s a time of grief and mourning, as if God has put me in dormancy, much like the trees are entering. A necessary winter time to lie fallow and nourish my roots. She replied with wisdom: I understand. I think it is brave and beautiful for you to consciously enter dormancy, not out of despair, but out of belief in future hope.
The introspection moon is the perfect time to do this.
Hi Janis ~
Yes. The Introspection/Death and Rebirth moon/month is a timely place to pause. Your post brings to mind our work together in ‘Free to BE Effective’ where, in the fall, we move down into the roots of the matter to rest, rejuvenate, recreate, and refresh before coming back up to the Topside world in the spring.
How healthy and revealing to craft ” a Once Upon a Time story where I offered hospitality to grief, anger, denial, loneliness in the cave of my heart.”
As Muriel Rukeyser states, ” The Universe is made of stories, not of atoms.” One day we may read your story and it will soothe and support our ability to keep on keepin’ on until we too take leave. Much love to you and to your rootedness.
Sending love to help with the balance of loss. ♥️
Thanks, K ~ Beautiful Zen koan
xoxoxoxoxooxoxooxoxoxo
Holding you in my heart. You are wise to let yourself take time. We are waiting for someone who has been important to my life for more than 60 years to go on, doing what we can from a distance for him and his wife, my dearest friend. All things must pass.
Thank you, Dear Minnie ~
I send you a mirror that reflects back to you the words that you post here so that you know that you are held in my heart as you wait for your important one of sixty years to find her way back to the spirit realm. I hold a mirror that reflects your care and connection for this dearest friend and her husband.
Even though all things must pass, I reflect back to you in your words that it is wise to take time. Time to savor the beauty and the laughter and the ups and the downs of this heartfelt relationship.
Yes… no rush… just being… feeling into the “What next? What now? What matters?” without knowing the answer. I have lived for quite some time by the thought that we will have what we need when we need it. The events around two moves in the past 18 months are truly a testament to that. And we truly will… have what we need when we need it. The way will be shown. Will be shown. In the meantime we “be.” Big hugs. Much love!
Thank you, Lynn ~ how powerful is your reminder that it is truly appropriate to just BE. That awareness came to visit me over the past month, usually when I made an attempt to share this experience. Just BE. Just walk. Just gaze at the sunshine bouncing off the water in the cove. Just sit down.
Funny/odd that at the same time that part of our consciousness is resting in the BEing, other parts of us are fully capable of tending to the needs of the day. So much happened in the midst of the shock of Sunny leaving. I embrace her spirit for BEing able to take leave so quickly and so well. She left with nobility and grace. She died at home. She left surrounded by love.
Indeed she did Donna! All that!! What I wanted to add after I had sent my note was the gratitude I feel for having known her. <3
So sorry for the loss of your dear friend.
Thank you, Kristin ~ I appreciate your being here and the nine words that you have posted are truly the best medicine.
Yes, death is natural and we will all die to this physical world.
Yes, we have all experienced death at different times during life.
Yet, now…as I look out at the ‘opposite shore’ and get my own affairs in order so as not to leave a mess for others to tend to…now I feel the sting of Sunny leaving in a way that sinks deep into my precious human heart. There is a poignancy. It makes me glad that I am able to feel such love and such loss.