Month: May 2020

He Just Shows Up – Day 556

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An Exquisite Sunset 20 May 2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

He Just Shows Up

I hope I never take for granted the ways in which Karl continues to reach into my life, metaphorically tapping me on the shoulder or giving me a hug when I need it most. While he is every bit as unpredictable in the afterlife as he was during his life as our son, I have to say – he’s also every bit as tenacious. Indeed, if he has a message to deliver or a situation he feels adamant that needs attention, he will go to great measures to orchestrate circumstances that will enable him to communicate with me – either directly or indirectly. And then, at other times, he just shows up.

For the longest time, especially during the first several months after he died, I didn’t want to hope for any communication from Karl. I was acutely aware of what can happen when those of us left to mourn hang on too tightly to a loved one when they die, especially when the death is sudden or unexpected.

In my work, I’ve had the honor and responsibility to escort souls back to the Source when I discovered them trapped here on Earth. The need for such an intervention is often the result of a death so sudden they don’t realize they’ve passed away, or the person is confused or profoundly fearful of what they might encounter if they allow themselves to ‘move on’ to their next experience. I’ve also experienced situations in which the grief on the part of both the dead and the living is so profound – or wrapped up in a tangle of such complex emotion involving much more than simply ‘love’ – that neither person can move forward until they achieve resolution.

He Was Frustrated Too

There’s no denying that he was actively communicating with me right after his death. But again, I was having an oddly split reaction to it all. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to ask him questions, discover the details, hear his voice, have proof that he – his consciousness – survived the death of his body. And on the other hand, as I said, I was adamant that I not impede his ability to move on. The absolute last thing I wanted to do was hang on to him too tightly.

Knowing what I know, I was certain it would be the furthest thing from impeccable for me to interfere with his evolution. And I was determined that my unconditional love for him and my desire for him to move on to his next set of experiences unimpeded would exceed my mortal, short-term, ego-driven love. The love that balked at being deprived of a parent’s ability to watch their children live their lives, replete with the joys and heartaches living brings.

Only a few months after Karl died, I spent a month in Peru, intensively working through my own grief so I could better support Karl (my husband) and my surviving sons. Karl came through to me both while I was working with the paqos (mountain shamans or medicine people of the high Andes) and with the jungle shamans in the Amazon. He expressed irritation with me that I seemed to be ignoring his attempts to communicate with him. He told me in no uncertain terms that he was frustrated and – knowing this would get me, I suppose – how sad it made him that I seemed to be deliberately refusing to recognize his efforts to communicate and meet him half way.

It’s funny, in retrospect, to realize how successful I was in frustrating my son even after death – simply by trying hard to be the best mother to him that I could; by letting go and doing my best not to hang on.

Startling Appearances

And so, I think in some ways just to get back at me for frustrating the (living?) shit out of him as he tried to communicate with me, he periodically shows up in such startling ways or in such unexpected circumstances that I just have to say, “You got me!”

One such instance was in July of 2017, five and a half years after his death. Karl and I and a few other family members were in Siberia. (You read that right.) We were in the Sayan Mountains and had hiked up to a glacial waterfall where myriad healing waters were accessible. As I made my way to the falls near the very top, I had to step aside to make way for trekkers descending from the falls.

This is what I encountered coming toward me. In Siberia:

Sayan Mountain trail, Siberia (She didn’t speak English) – Photo:L. Weikel

*I hope this photo turns right side up. It is showing up, for me, as sideways and I can’t make it go right side up. But no matter what…you get the picture.

(T-555)

Tipping Point – Day 555

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Only days before his last – Photo: anonymous

Tipping Point

Wow. Here I am, teetering at the tipping point, the very center of the see-saw that is the commitment I made to honoring Karl’s prolific creativity with an Act of Power, a devotion of my own.

As I explained at the beginning of this particular journey, on 11/11/18, the seventh anniversary of Karl’s death, I was sitting here in our living room contemplating my son’s brief but intense life and wondering how I could in some way honor him.

To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed in myself that I never took up a cause or created a foundation or became an advocate dedicated to fiercely and fearlessly changing society or improving people’s lives in his memory. There’s a part of me that wishes I’d channeled my grief in such admirable ways.

But I didn’t.

Instead, on that 7th anniversary of his death, I listened to the messages I was receiving and followed the signs. I determined that the nudges I was getting were for me to simply enter into a daily act of devotion reflecting my love for him and the fact that a day does not go by without him in my thoughts, in my heart, and influencing my life.

1111 Devotion

As I wrote in my initial post in this endeavor, “(a)ccording to the World Book Dictionary, a definition of devotion is ‘…3. The act of devoting or setting apart to a sacred use or purpose; solemn dedication; consecration.’ (…) This blog will be my visible devotion to my son’s memory. My Act of Power. For the next 1111 days, I will create a post.”

In the first few days of following through on this bodacious commitment, I struggled with all sorts of internal beliefs and expectations. I did manage to describe here at least a few of the messages I’d received on the day I set this intention that confirmed this was an appropriate dedication.

I even received confirmation of the magnitude of this devotion (1111 consecutive posts), and wrote about that here.

Today I Stand At the Center

Inasmuch as 1111 does not divide equally, tonight’s post and tomorrow’s post, together, mark the halfway point of this great adventure. I consider tonight’s post the tipping point, for the moment I hit <publish> this evening, I will hit the tipping point. I won’t quite be on the downward trajectory. I’ll be at the apex.

In truth, I am not arriving at this tipping point alone. I know many of you have walked with me every step of the way, slogging through some really sucky posts, but supporting me nevertheless.

I hope you know how much that means to me.

Now. I better get this posted.

I’ll write more tomorrow. I promise.

Rainbow Up Close – Photo: L. Weikel

 

(T-556)

Cuteness – Day 554

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May I have more, Mommy? – Photo: L. Weikel

Cuteness

Sometimes cuteness is the only thing that gets me through the day. Especially lately. Not my own, by any stretch of the imagination. Good grief. No…I’m talking about the irresistible expressions of adorableness that I enjoy every single day at the paws of my familiars.

I cringe at the thought of imagining life without the daily dose of joy I receive from my pups and kittens. And even the fact that I refer to my old chunks of fur (none of my three cats are younger than at least 7 years old) as kittens tells you how cherished a place they hold in my heart.

It’s odd that I’m sitting here writing about the cats, though, when it’s Spartacus who’s been taking the cuteness cake lately.

Innocent Delight

Just that face; I mean really. I let Spartacus lick clean a container of yogurt the other day and this was my reward a few minutes later. The innocent delight was palpable. I could not look at him without grinning myself – and day after day I keep realizing just how precious it is to have a reason to smile.

Tonight, as I was sitting here contemplating what I could write this evening that might distract us all from, well, everything that’s going on in our world right now, I could hear Karl calling to Spartacus. Karl was trying to talk him into going upstairs with him because he’s such great company.

But take a look at where Spart was at the time he was being summoned by Karl:

Spartacus, wedged and cuddling – Photo: L. Weikel

He was wedged between my legs and the cushions of our couch. His ears curled just slightly when he heard Karl calling his name. I knew he was tempted. There’s nothing worse to Spart than being asked to split his loyalties and choose between us. But I could tell, at least for the time being, he’d found his sweet spot.

Sheila

It’s hard for me to write so much and so often about Spartacus, when he quite literally would not be here if it weren’t for Sheila. Not only is she his mother, but she also was our first dog as a family. It was a monumental decision for us to decide to get a puppy. We’d always been cat people. And let’s face it, cats train their owners; dogs, however, require a completely different skill set (beyond love, which it goes without saying is necessary for all animals).

Sheila changed our lives. If she hadn’t turned out to be the best addition to our family, Spartacus wouldn’t even have been a glint in our eye. It makes me sad now that she is so deeply ensconced within her own inner world, having lost her sight to cataracts and her hearing to old age.

And that’s not to say that she doesn’t still exude a ton of personality, as I realize I’m not shy in sharing with you. And she is the epitome of cuteness – even still – as the old gray-muzzled hound she’s become.

Part of the Family

I’m so grateful for all the animals that share their lives with me. Of course, my life wouldn’t be nearly as rich or entertained without my Sheila, Spartacus, Precious, Cletus, and Tigger. But I’d also be lost without the variety of animals that cross my path each day, lurk in the woods beside our garage, visit our feeders, prance around our compost pile, or grok at me as they swoop in to snag a peanut.

All of the creatures I’m lucky enough to share life with are a part of my family. And sometimes they’re the only ones whose cuteness can brighten my day.

(T-557)

Any Port in the Storm – Day 553

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Tigger and Spartacus snuggling – Photo: L. Weikel

Any Port in the Storm

Hey, sometimes it’s just nice to have somebody at your back. Or as my mother used to say, “Any port in the storm.”

Clearly that had to have been what Tigger and Spartacus were thinking the other day when I happened upon this surprising snugglefest taking place on our bed. When I walked up the wooden pie-shaped steps from our kitchen into our bedroom, I fumbled for my phone to capture the unexpected cuteness of the moment.

You can sort of see that Tigger woke up during my effort, which annoyed and disappointed me. They were so cute.

The photo above is ok, and it almost captures the magic – but not quite. If you can imagine it, when I initially walked into the room (in my defense, the wooden stairs do squeak), they were laying in that same position, spine to spine, but Tigger’s head was down and they were both very obviously completely at home and at peace, and deeply asleep. Surprisingly, their trust in each other was complete.

How Rare Is That?

All of which sort of makes me wonder. How rare is that, really? We hear talk of cats and dogs being natural enemies, but I think a lot of that is hype. In fact, in a lot of ways, that supposed rivalry seems more like propaganda that’s oddly based in human gender stereotypes than true feline/canine rivalry or inherent dislike.

I’ll bet almost everyone reading this knows of cats and dogs that have lived beyond peaceably within their own home. Heck, I’ve even witnessed Cletus (who we can all agree is beautiful but a real jerk, what with all his hissing and biting and unwarranted lashing out with claws at no provocation) walk up to Spartacus (who can become wild-eyed and a jerk himself if you try sticking your muzzle into his food bowl) and first flaunt his tail directly in Spart’s face and then turn around, chirrup at him, and groom Spartacus’s ear.

I thought for sure it was going to be curtains for both of them the first time I saw Cletus sidle up to Spartacus that way.

And I’ve seen all three of our cats cuddle with both dogs periodically. I remember having lots of photos of White Satan cuddling with Sheila and Spartacus. And at first, I thought the pups were simply being kind to him, realizing that he didn’t even comprehend that his behavior was socially inappropriate, since he was deaf. But apparently that wasn’t the case.

Makes Me Wonder

So much of what we think is based on stuff we’ve been told all our lives. Much of what underpins our belief systems are thoughts and opinions that we actually have never had to form through personal experience. We’ve simply taken someone else’s word for it. Usually, it was our parents’ word for things, but also our teachers’, our friends’, and the thoughts, prejudices, and assumptions of people on television.

It makes me wonder what life could be like – especially in our country, now, when so many seem to loathe those who aren’t like them – if we could just drop the hype and be real with each other.

Any port in the storm.

If we’re not careful, we may soon experience our own personal ‘any port in the storm’ moment, causing us to care for or be cared for by those whom society, or our parents, or even our president, has told us we should fear or loathe or judge as less than. Maybe then we’ll realize the truth.

What will we do then? How will we love? Will we snuggle up and keep each other warm against the cold?

Sheila, Spart, and White Satan – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-558)

You Tell Me – Day 552

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Liminal Cat – Photo: L. Weikel

You Tell Me

Just up the road from the illustrious Woodpecker Condominiums, there’s a barn that both shelters a few horses and is home to at least a couple of cats. One of the horses has already proven to be a bit on of a flaky sort. You tell me whether the cats are of this world or not.

Yeah, yeah, I hear you thinking. What in the heck? Of course they’re ‘of this world.’ What are you talking about, woman? And what in the world does that even mean?!

Well.

Take a look at the photo at the top of this post. You tell me whether it’s photo-shopped or not. I swear it is not. Which begs the question: if it is not photo-shopped, why does it look entirely as if someone lifted a photo of a healthy happy cat and airlifted into a barnyard setting – and placed an aura of gold around said feline? You tell me it doesn’t look like it’s just ‘playing’ at being in this reality. “Yup, I’m here, human. Don’t look away! I might disappear. Heh heh heh.”

This particular four-legged beast has been elusive to my enthusiastic and loving, if prying, eyes for quite some time. Perhaps my affection has been mistaken for stalking as a result of my annoying efforts to snap a shot of it (and steal its soul?). It’s been over a year since I stepped up my walking and added a whole new route to my repertoire. All this time I’ve been thwarted in my efforts to capture this here now gone again tease.

But today was different.

Am I really here? – Photo: L. Weikel

A Game

Today felt different. It felt like this furry phantom was ready to give me proof that it’s a magical cat. A feline from elsewhere, if only just the liminal region of a parallel reality. Either that or it was just messing with my head, playing games with my emotions. Taunting me.

I must admit, I started getting suspicious when it moved not one jot as I kept up an appreciateive chatter while snapping photos. It refused to move. It just sat there, looking at me, turning its head only just slightly enough to maintain eye contact with me as I moved from its left to its right, all the while maintaining that odd projection of placid boredom, with just a hint of amusement on its face.

Playing Coy – Photo: L. Weikel

What Is Real?

There was the appearance of another ‘tell’ that might lend credence to the possibility that I’d entered into the universe of photo-shopped barn cats. A rainbow dog on the horizon that was eminently more visible to the naked eye than to the best close-up efforts of my iPhone.

You tell me. What is real?

Both? Neither? Am I making it all up as I go along?

You bet I am.

And so are you.

Faint whisper of a rainbow dog – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-559)

Lest There Be Any Doubt – Day 551

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A travesty. What an awful neighborhood – Photo: L. Weikel

Lest There Be Any Doubt

Lest there be any doubt as to why certain feathered friends might want to move to new digs, perchance at the aforementioned Woodpecker Condominiums, cast your visages upon this disgraceful excuse for a birdfeeder found in the environs of the home of the caretaker of this blog.

It’s a disgrace.

Indeed, it’s no wonder the blog used to call itself ‘Ruffled Feathers.’ My feathers are ruffled indeed.

Yes, I hear talk of a ‘pandemic’ sweeping the lives of the two-leggeds that live near and far. And my sympathies, such as they are, go out to these sad creatures who don’t seem to appreciate the finer qualities of remaining in one’s nest until the predators (seen or unseen) are no longer a threat. And when they must venture outside of their nests, why do they carry on so about keeping their gaping maws (so disgustingly unseemly compared to the noble beak) discreetly hidden from view or risk infection of themselves or others?

No Excuse

In all seriousness, I understand there may be some resistances to dealing with the current hardships being inflicted upon the two-legged species. But for the love of all that is holy (and we peckers do love holes, so I know from whence I speak), there is no excuse for allowing the seed required for not only the robust reproductive vigor of those of us in mature feather, but also the developing young hatchlings to dwindle to such an appalling level.

Plague or no plague, allowing the seed situation to dwindle to this level is wholly (there it is again – something I know a lot about!) unacceptable.

Alas, I will not be able to prove my worth to the Condo Board if I am weak with hunger. There is no way I will be able to peck enough grubs per minute without the supplemental sustenance I require.

I need to take this up with someone in power. If I could only locate one.

Resorting to Peanuts. Ridiculous – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-560)

Woodpecker Condo – Day 550

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Woodpecker Estate Condominiums – Photo: L. Weikel

Woodpecker Condo

Karl and I walk past this marvel of modern avian artistry every day we take our four mile walkabout. If it isn’t a woodpecker condo, straight out of Architectural Peckgest, I’ll eat it.

Situated on the edge of a verdant, deciduous forest that’s home to an eclectic community of multiple species of peckers of wood, these condos provide feathered up-and-comers easy access to both social diversity and the finest of country living.

Deer in FoG – Photo: L. Weikel

Forested Back ‘Yard’

It’s true, the ‘back yard’ of the tony Woodpecker Estate Condominiums is a young forest, filled with an array of newly emancipated four-legged neighbors. Oppossums, raccoons, mice, squirrels, and foxes cast the prejudices of old to the wind, meeting and trading stories at the local watering hole known as ‘The Brook’ across Main Human Road. That’s not to be confused with the seedier but much more cavalier crowd that risks life and fur by gathering at the infamous ‘Cracked Culvert.’

Of course, those interested in the amenities offered by Woodpecker Estate Condominiums are subject to rigorous credit checks based upon grubs pecked per minute and other undisclosed but trustworthy assessments of pecker character. Feathers of recommendation from three non-related intra-species sponsors are also required for each applicant for residency.

Fields of Green – Photo: L. Weikel

Fields of Green

With the woods at our back, we can turn our attention away from the hustle and bustle of the four legged world of leaf and understory dwellers to the wild rompings of the deer in the Fields of Green that all forward-facing condo owners are privy. As amazing as the views are of the FoG, a caveat must be issued. Red-tailed hawks and other predators have been known to snag lesser peckers out of mid air when times were tough, and robins, red-winged blackbirds and mourning doves simply for sport.

While the picture windows located in the eastern facing condos have witnessed carnage in months gone by, the clean-up crews of black and turkey vultures have been working overtime to maintain the desirability of the neighborhood. We owe them a debt of gratitude – although they prefer a simple sacrifice now and again when times get lean. They have been known to frequent the back door of the Cracked Culvert.

This is one of the last condos of its kind in this area, so if you’re interested, you really should get pecking and submit your application today.

Robins have recently decided to turn their backs on us and move up the hill. We shan’t miss them, as they join bluebirds and red-winged black birds in their haughty attraction to the faux country adventures of horse pastures.

Aloof Robin – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-561)

Retrograde – Day 549

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Maple Seeds; Heart’s desire? – Photo: L. Weikel

Retrograde

There’s a lot of astrological activity occurring this week that you’re probably already feeling on one level or another. I know I am. Perhaps most significant in my mind is the fact that Saturn went retrograde on Sunday, Venus went retrograde on Tuesday, and Jupiter is going retrograde tomorrow (Thursday, May 14th).

I’m pretty sure I’ve provided an elementary explanation of what it means for a planet to station and then go retrograde. It’s all in our perspective which, when you think about it, is so true of practically everything in life. In this case, though, a planet going retrograde means that, from our perspective on Earth, it looks like a planet is stopping in its orbit around us (stationing) and then appears to be moving backwards.

As I say, this is all an optical illusion based on our perspective from here on Earth. It all has to do with the length and pace of a planet’s orbit around the sun vis-à-vis the Earth’s orbit.

Different Influences

Nevertheless, as we are complex creatures influenced by a myriad of factors that we often aren’t consciously aware of, including the moon, sun, and planets, it can be a deeply powerful time of reflection and change when they go retrograde.

Most people have heard one thing or another about Mercury going retrograde. Because Mercury is closest to the sun and is the planet that moves most rapidly in its orbit, it’s the one that’s discussed most often. When Mercury goes retrograde, an occurrence that happens four times a year, I believe, the length of time it is appearing to move backward is about three weeks.

When the larger planets go retrograde, their periods in that state happen less frequently and are longer in duration, although they vary. The thought is that the influence of the larger planets is generally more profound and long-lasting.

As I’ve written about a number of times over the past year and a half, the planet Mercury is associated with communication and electronics, to name two of the most common factors influenced by that planet. Obviously, then, when Mercury goes retrograde, there are certain activities that are enhanced during that time, such as editing and going over details with a fine-toothed comb.

Not Mercury

When Saturn, Venus, and Jupiter go retrograde this week (joining Pluto, which went retrograde at the end of April), we are called upon to stop our relentless efforts at moving forward or maintaining the status quo. Instead, we’re asked to take time to reflect upon and really take stock of those aspects of our lives (or the life of the society we live in, or the country, etc.) that are associated with that particular planet. We’re asked to decide what is working for us in those areas – and what we need to release or surrender.

For instance, Venus has to do with our values, our ways of earning a living, what we hold dear, the things or aspects of our lives that mean most to us. When Venus goes retrograde, we’re called upon to reflect on just exactly what we value most. What we can live with losing. Who we are if we lose what we value.

As you know, I enjoy the work of Kaypacha and I like to listen to his weekly Pele Reports. He knows his astrology – particularly evolutionary astrology – and he translates it into information I can apply to my own life. I recommend you give this week’s Pele Report (for May 13th) a listen. The interplay of each of these planets going retrograde and what and how they influence us is fascinating. And the application of these influences to what the world is experiencing right now is fascinating and provides an abundance of food for thought.

Just planting the seeds for all our growth…

(T-562)

Look Up – Day 548

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What I saw when I looked up – Photo: L. Weikel

Look Up

I realize many of you are starting to gain an appreciation for my fixation on clouds. Karl teased me this morning about what I wrote about them in last night’s post, but you know what? I’m standing my ground. Or maybe, more appropriately, I’m standing my ground but keeping my head in the clouds.

As we took our walk early this evening, I of course was enchanted once again by the most peculiar shapes of clouds that were contorting themselves above the fields. It was hard to imagine the dynamics of the air aloft that would create such convoluted shapes.

Nevertheless, today, I found myself resisting ‘seeing’ anything specific in those shapes other than their innate beauty.

Weird clouds – Photo: L. Weikel

A Rare Moment

All along our walk today, I found myself looking up. Maybe it’s a metaphor. Maybe there’s something within my being that wants ‘things’ to be looking up. Or maybe I just want a change in perspective.

I don’t think it really matters one way or another. The point is that I looked up as we walked through one of our oft-frequented ‘tree tunnels,’ and I felt awe sweep over me.

The photo at the top of this post is what I saw.

I grant you – in the grand scheme of things, perhaps it is one of the least special photos I’ve taken or shared. But just the way the trees framed the periwinkle blue of the sky brought a rare moment of peace to my heart and soul.

And then we turned the corner – and the clouds performed.

Weird clouds from afar – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-563)

Mixing It Up – Day 547

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Nothing But Swirls and Fenceposts – Photo: L.Weikel

Mixing It Up

If you’ve been reading my posts for any length of time, first of all thank you, and second of all you probably realize that you never know what I’m going to write about from one day to the next. It’s the old “keep ‘em guessing” strategy. You know: mixing it up so you never know if you’re going to miss one of the good ones – making every day’s offering an adventure of discovery.

Yikes. I’m dredging from my college days now, making whip-smart use of that psychology degree by employing intermittent reinforcement to the readers of my blog posts. B. F. Skinner would be proud.

Actually, it’s not intentional. Not in the nefarious way I’m alluding to, anyway. It is intentional in respect to the fact that I try to stay away from writing too much about any one subject. My thoughts do bounce around from one topic to another.

A Niche

I think maybe I thought, or was hoping, I’d have discovered a niche by now. But no. Five hundred forty seven days into the 1111 Devotion project and no discernible niche has revealed itself. I guess I’m just a jack-of-all-subjects and master-of-none.

If you were to take a gander at the photos on my iPhone, though, you might come to another conclusion. You very well might think, “This chick should’ve become a meteorologist. Clearly she has a thing for clouds and other weather events.” And you would not be wrong.

Clouds

I adore clouds. I’m confident this comes as no surprise to any of you. And I particularly love letting my gaze soften when I look to the sky and allowing myself to simply see what’s up there. Like the angel’s wings I wrote about last week, and any number of other posts I’ve share about clouds that have appeared to me in intriguing shapes.

Just a day or so ago, I caught this one:

Fox Chasing Bird – Photo: L. Weikel

In my imagination, I easily see a fox chasing an oversized bird right across the sky.

No, I don’t feel there’s any particular message associated with that image. It’s simply a delight. A whimsical interlude punctuating one of our walks.

And that’s an important aspect of what I do as well, or perhaps how I approach life, that many people don’t realize. I don’t try to wring a message or a lesson out of every single thing that happens to me or that comes to my attention. I know it may seem as if I do, but in truth, there’s a unique sense of significance that I sense deep within when I encounter a ‘message.’

Cultivating that sense is something that comes with practice. But first things first – which means, you have to do a lot of noticing and paying attention to realize which experiences coming your way are messages and which are simply interludes of beauty, or pain, or something else in your life that are ‘only’ important in that moment.

 

(T-564)