letting go

Ides of March – ND #96

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Et tu, Brute? – Photo: L. Weikel

Ides of March

We’re starting a new week. I wonder what’s in store for us, collectively, as the week begins with the Ides of March? (Well, technically the Ides are on Tuesday, but close enough.) And then, only three days later, the moon reaches her fullness – bringing who knows what to completion and conclusion? And then, one day after that, the Spring Equinox.

That’s the thing about time – it just keeps on keeping on. Sometimes it feels like it’s whizzing by and other times it feels like we’re in an inescapable slog through quicksand. It’s even deceptive in the sense that it may feel like we’re living in an interminable, static loop and then suddenly, we look around and realize everything has changed.

It feels like the coming week could be one of those. One that feels like nothing is changing and yet when we reach its end, we’ll look back and realize everything has.

A Guide for the Week

Given that this week holds the potential for a lot of upheaval and change, I thought I’d choose a card for us to have as a guide to what’s in store as the week unfolds. No matter what happens, perhaps this card – and its foundation – can help us make sense of the chaos.

The deck I decided to pull from is The Naked Heart Tarot* by Jillian C. Wilde.

Two of Swords – Naked Heart Tarot* – (c) Jillian C. Wilde

Main Card: Two of Swords ~ “Inner Struggle”

“Two swords are tied up with an anchor, suggesting that in order to move forward, you need to make a decision that may be weighing heavily upon you.

The Message:  The Two of Swords represents a time when you are battling with a decision on how to best move forward. You feel so anchored by the weight of a choice or point of view that it slowly pulls you down, and keeps you stuck. You may feel roped to an internal struggle between your head and your heart, not knowing which has your best interest in mind. Your heart may already know what to do, but you are feeling unable to let your guard down and commit without having all the information needed to make a comfortable decision. Sometimes, a choice just needs to be made, and it takes a leap of faith. No matter how hard or painful the choice is, you must make it. Once it is made, you must anchor yourself to the choice. It is the only way to move forward with peace and a new beginning. Ultimately you can make no wrong decision. Under the guidance of the Universe, you will always be nudged back to where you belong.”

Ten of Swords – Naked Heart Tarot* – (c) Jillian C. Wilde

Foundation Card (Underneath): Ten of Swords ~ “Resolve and Release”

“The rat lies on its side as ten swords are driven down from above piercing its spirit, hinting that the end is near.

The Message: The Ten of Swords represents a time of completion when a much-needed ending to a conversation, idea or discussion is necessary. You’ve already been through every detail, argument, theory, and solution there is to offer, and now you are starting to cycle through them again. Rat energy reminds you that it is time to purge old ways and victim mentality, release the clutter and the story attached to the situation, so you can allow room for new beginnings. Going back through it and over it all will not bring you any closer to resolution. It is time to get to the heart of the wound, and cut out the drama, and bring things to completion. Time to release and let it go. Agree to disagree or just bury it in the past, so at this stage, you can more forward. You may feel a sense of resistance or sadness as you go through the process, but it is also an opportunity to reflect upon valuable insights. All is not lost, it is a chance to drop the weight of the mental baggage that has cut so deeply into you, give it to the Universe and let it go. The worst is over.”

My Take

These cards almost certainly have application in one form or another to our own individual lives and circumstances, since we’re each a microcosm of the macrocosm (living out those adages “as above, so below” and “as within so without”). But the broader implication, the prospect of even weightier decisions becoming necessary regarding global circumstances, is obvious.

It seems to me that the longer we postpone making the choices we fear (but which inevitably must be made), the anchor only becomes heavier.

The hope I see in these cards (and there is some) is the prospect for peace in the top card – and the realization that the worst is over in the foundation card. But for the worst to be over, the difficult choice must be made.

Let’s hold in our hearts a vision that the ‘powers that be’ make the highest and best choice for all of us, individually, nationally, and culturally, for humanity, the Earth, and all Her children. We just might be at that place in our evolution.

*affiliate link

(T+96)

Killed It – Day 1097

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Brutie and the Dell – Photo: L. Weikel

Killed It

Two weeks ago, I lamented the toll taken by Pacha and Brutus’s zealous antics (aka ‘zoomies’) chasing each other from one room to the other on a rather dependable schedule every night. Streaking like lightning around the couch and threading the needle of other obstacles, they got snagged on the charger cord of my laptop and swept it onto the floor with a thud. I feared they’d killed it.

I was relieved to report that the initial diagnosis was a simple need for a new charger. It appeared that the charger had bent and simply needed to be replaced, since the experts at D’town Tech were able to plug it in and boot it back up. All was well that ended well. I ordered a new charger and counted my lucky stars.

Well, it turns out my celestial ciphering may have been a bit premature.

Resisting the Truth

When the new charger arrived from Amazon, I immediately plugged it into the machine and hoped it would charge overnight. When I awakened, it still refused to boot up.

Resisting the truth of what was playing out before my eyes, I told myself the old battery had been drained for so long that it finally gave up the ghost. All would be better when the new battery arrived and the experts replaced it.

Yeah. I wish.

On Election Day, Karl dropped the laptop back off at D’town Tech for replacement of its battery. Sadly, word came the next day that my Dell, while initially booting up just fine, after about 10 minutes was persistently seizing and then crashing. The cause was eluding them. The prognosis was dire.

From Bad to Worse

It’s funny; I look back on some of my earliest posts in this long saga, and I see that ten days into my 1111 Devotion, my Dell XPS went on the fritz. I documented my adventures with customer service (I had a premium warranty on the machine) as they stretched into Days 14 and 15 – ultimately resulting in replacement of the motherboard. Because my Dell crapped out on me in those early days of getting this discipline off the ground, I decided to write all my blog posts on my MacBook Air. And that’s how it’s been ever since.

But that doesn’t negate the fact that I use the Dell for so many of my day-to-day business and record-keeping activities. All of our financials, my legal work, etc., is on my Dell.

So you might imagine how deflating it was to discover that the hard drive was so damaged that they can’t even retrieve my data. They effectively killed it.

While I did back up a lot on an external hard drive, I didn’t update the backup nearly as recently as I should have. As I now wish I had.

An interesting ‘coincidence’ is how this issue came up almost exactly as many days into my 1111 Devotion as I am away from completing this Act of Power. It’s odd. Two weeks into it; and now two weeks from ending it. One thing I’m observing? I’m much less invested in what I’ve ‘lost’ than I would have been three years ago.

That in itself is worthy of contemplation and reflection.

Their first prey – “Killed it!” – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-14)

Ladybugs and Katydids – Day 1094

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Amazing Ladybug – She’s blowing a kiss! – Photo: L. Weikel

Ladybugs and Katydids

The weather over the past several days has been achingly lovely. I’m probably yearning to soak up every drop of warm sunshine and immerse myself in the sound of fallen leaves shushing and crunching underfoot because I’m all too aware of how quickly this idyllic time will end. At the same time, much to my surprise and delight, ladybugs and katydids have joined me as companions and visitors.

I did a shallow dive into ladybug habits and learned that they ‘congregate’ in the fall to hibernate together. Swarming in the transitional month of November seems a little late to me, like they could easily get killed in a cold snap.

Anyway, it seems as if a bunch recently decided to ‘fly through’ our area (if they even do that), and have decided to hang out on our property for a few days – especially on our porch. Maybe they’re scoping things out for a good place to hibernate. Most of the ladybugs visiting in the past few days have alighted upon me or my clothing, often running up my arm or hanging out on my hand, or buzzed amazingly quickly across the porch to land on one of my plants. They’re fast flyers!

Look at that ladybug’s shield – Photo: L. Weikel

Unique Markings

All the ladybugs I’ve seen over the past several days have been the ‘usual’ kind – red with black spots. So I was super excited to make the acquaintance of this amazing creature. I’ve never seen a ladybug with these markings, especially the way the two small black spots and one oddly shaped red spot give the appearance of a lady’s face with pursed lips, as if to give a kiss.

It makes me wonder: where in the world would this be effective camouflage?! But those odd markings are only the start. The rest of her shell was covered with a wonderful pattern of 14 hash tags around the outside of what appears to be a yellow shield. The three wavy lines in the center of her shield are intriguing as well.

She’s utterly lovely. And unique.

Checking both Animal Wise* and The Shaman’s Guide to Power Animals* (SGPA), I’m intrigued by the possibility that she might be a protector of some kind, and of course the shield on her back lends a lot of credence to that interpretation. But given all of the messages we seem to be receiving collectively to let old ways, structures, and relationships that no longer serve us die so we can welcome in the change we seek (or that seeks us), including new relationships, I’m intrigued that the intention suggested by the SGPA is: “Help me let go of the past and embrace the future.”

I wouldn’t have associated ladybug with anything other than the rather generic ‘good luck,’ had I not noticed this strikingly unique specimen.

Katydid crossing the road – Photo: L. Weikel

Katydids

The other creature I’ve been noticing over the past few days are the handful of katydids that still manage to “crik-crik-crik” out their (seemingly) throaty call – even though it’s not their voices but rather their legs rubbing together. Once again, just like with the ladybugs, hanging around at this point in the fall season seems particularly risky.

Just last week we had two days of a good frost greeting us in the morning hours. It makes me wonder how the katydids I’ve been hearing during my walks the past few days survived. Did they did far enough under some leaf cover to avoid the worst? Sure seems like the few that are left are a resilient bunch.

About five minutes after I heard a lone katydid scritching out its call, I actually ran into one crossing the road in front of me. What an odd occurrence! Katydids are – at least in my experience – quite elusive. They have big, loud voices, but hide amongst the green leaves, playing the game of throwing their big voices out into the world but keeping everyone guessing where they’re really hanging out.

There’s precious little information out there about katydids – and what little I found didn’t particularly ring true to me. For me, I’m feeling my own perception of their lessons, gifts, and attributes are just below the surface of my consciousness. Indeed, scritch and maybe I’ll discover them for myself.

Weird. I can hear a katydid calling right this moment. It’s nearly 1:00 a.m.

Lovely Katydid – Photo: L. Weikel

Grateful

The intricate designs of the mystery ladybug and the bold resilience of the katydid(s) feel like precious gifts. They’re bringing reminders that things change and we insist on static continuity in our lives at our peril. Or at least at the peril of utter boredom and disenchantment.

I can’t take my eyes of that ladybug blowing me a kiss. And every single time I hear, “Katy did; katy did,” I smile and feel oh-so-very grateful for the enchanting Beings frequenting my life.

*affiliate link

(T-17)

Confession – Day 932

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Snail? Slug – Photo: L. Weikel

Confession

“Confession is good for the soul,” they say. I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know I’m not big on blowing smoke up people’s behinds, especially when it comes to my own actions. So I’m determined to make sure the record, such as it is, is right.

I wrote yesterday about fulfilling the task before me, which at least in that instance was about cleaning out and getting rid of filing cabinets’ worth of piles, records, and paperwork.

I mentioned that it was hard work. And I admitted that a lot of time had gone by since I last attempted to clear this stuff out. But this time – this time – I was ready to tackle it.

Well, I bailed. I know I need to do it, and I really thought for sure I was going to accomplish my mission today, but I didn’t.

I was lulled into a delicious sense of gratitude for the day when I sat outside just after noon and felt the warmth of the sun on my face. My bones were initially still chilled from the rawness of the past two days until I went outside to fill the birdfeeders and took a peek at the blue sky trying to return to prominence.

Not Up For It

As much as I was psyched to accomplish my goal yesterday I was not-so-psyched to do it today. I took one look at the files pertaining to an accident Karl had that by all rights probably should’ve killed him in 2008 (but only broke a couple of bones) and I felt my resolve stall. I particularly bristled at the memory of the disgusting doctor at a local rehabilitation hospital who prescribed Oxycontin to him over my objections. I literally had to get in her face to get her to back down on the seemingly cavalier – if not deliberate – over-medication of my son.

But I digress. Or maybe I don’t.

Do I just destroy these records? Why would I want to keep them? What purpose would that serve? Who would ever be interested in them and why?

My eyes moved half an inch to rest upon the information documenting his acceptance to New York University and all of the drama associated with that. (Literally – as he ended up auditioning and being accepted into the Tisch School of the Arts as a Drama major.) Such seemingly pivotal choices and decisions, all documented in black and white. So much excitement. So much promise.

Snail’s Pace

Nope.

I didn’t have it in me today. While I’m sure no one will care about any of these things in the future, I didn’t have it in me to send them through the shredder today.

Maybe tomorrow.

I know it’s stuff I don’t need to hang on to. I know I need to walk my talk and let go of the past.

But today my resolve to move forward slowed to the pace of the snail (or was it a slug?) I encountered as I took a walk later in the day.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-179)

Thrashing – Day 881

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Thrashing and Throwing – Photo: L. Weikel

Thrashing

I’m sitting here in my living room, my front door open to let in the sounds and cool breeze of the spring evening. I’m tired. My back aches. A car just drove by. One of only a handful the whole evening, it seems – and it made me realize just how eerily quiet the night is tonight. I can count on one hand the number of cars that have whooshed by. It’s almost as if the world’s finally stopped thrashing about and is ever so tentatively slowing down and taking a breath.

I spent a while in our attic this afternoon trying to clear out some old stuff that just needs to go. What am I saving this stuff for? I find myself asking this question ad nauseum lately. My need to dramatically shake stuff up is acute. Not just in the attic. Everywhere in my life.

I’m not sure what’s driving it, but the urgency feels relentless.

I’d like to note that spending any amount of time in the attic is back-torturing work because it’s literally impossible to stand up straight anywhere up there. There’s probably a metaphor there that I’m either missing or choosing just barely subconsciously to ignore. Either way, I was willing to endure the discomfort and push myself onward – until the lights went out.

Lights Out

<<Blink>> Out they went. I’d just sat down to rest on a stored sleeping bag after using the shop-vac to suck up the relentless detritus created by a very old slate roof. It didn’t matter that the sun was out and it was early afternoon. Only slivers of natural light illuminate our attic on the best of days, and sadly that’s because random hailstones have put a few small holes in our slate roof, which we’ve repaired with translucent caulk. We have a couple of windows, but they’re very small and very dirty and they just weren’t designed to provide an abundance of light in our attic.

So when the lights went out, I was in the dark. The message was clear: it was time to get out. I’d done what I could in this venue.

Shifting My Focus

Begrudgingly, I lugged a very long, industrial-grade, extension cord back down the spiral, pie-shaped staircase leading from the attic into our bedroom. The stupid cord, an ungainly length, hadn’t worked anyway. I was going to have to test it because I’d wasted an inordinate amount of time trying to get the shop-vac to work, only to reach the irritating conclusion that none of this might not be the shop-vac’s fault, even though I’d been mercilessly cursing the appliance under my breath.

Turned out it was the extension cord. Who’s ever heard of such a thing? How many times have you heard of an industrial grade extension cord ‘going bad?’ Maybe it happens all the time. I don’t know. But I can tell you: it irked the heck out of me today.

After gathering up the 25’ cord and stuffing it into a garbage bag, I shifted my focus (some would call it the Eye of Sauron) toward our barn. Surely there was something in there I could pitch. (Ha – I scoff at the mere suggestion I’d have to do anything more than open a door before discovering items that could be banished from the premises forthwith.) Oooh yeah. Plenty of stuff to either resurrect or purge. This has been a long time coming – and today felt as good a day as any to end the madness.

A Sense of Urgency

More and more, I’m realizing how desperately we (I) need to do this. And we (I) need to do this now. Freeing up our (my) psychic and physical space is going to make more of a dramatic difference in our lives than anything else we could do at this moment in time. (And even if it’s only my psychic space that’s cleared – that will unquestionably impact Karl’s life as well.)

As quiet as the outside world seems tonight, I sense the same is attainable for my inner environment. If I stop thrashing and persist in doing the work to shed the remnants of hopes fulfilled and then forgotten – or never attained, perhaps I’ll finally have room to manifest the ones that matter to me now.

(T-230)

Irreplaceable – Day 684

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Sheila and her Sage – Photo: L. Weikel

Irreplaceable

As I struggle to find words to express my feelings tonight, ‘irreplaceable’ keeps spiraling to the surface.

Happy Pups: Spartacus (l) and Sheila (r) – Photo: L. Weikel

She came into our lives in October 2004 and changed our family forever.

Sheila – Queen of the Household – Photo: L. Weikel

We thought we knew love before we met our Sheila. Boy, were we in for a surprise.

Speaking of Watchers… – Photo: L. Weikel

There just aren’t any words for me to share with you tonight.

Inseparable Mother & Son – Photo: L. Weikel

This photo of Sheila and Spartacus snuggled together almost inseparably, has them facing a wall hanging we got after Karl died. In stumbling upon this tonight, I think she is letting me know we listened to her…by letting her go.  It says:

In the end what matters most is

How well did you live

How well did you love

How well did you learn

To let go

Irreplaceable – Photo: L. Weikel

Beloved Sheila: 9/17/2004 – 9/25/2020

(T-427)

Clean Out – Day 573

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Frog Close Up – Photo: L. Weikel

Clean Out

We met this lovely creature on our walk yesterday. It seemed like the perfect messenger for the day of the full moon and a lunar eclipse, for Frog’s message is almost always, in some way, shape, or form, “Clean out!”

It only makes sense, when we just take a look around us. We’re doing our best to clean out our belief systems – regarding racial inequities, justice, policing, transparency, solidarity, just to name a few. We’re realizing that the old ways of thinking and living with each other in a so-called civil society need to be overhauled if we’re going to survive another 200 years. Or maybe even just another two.

Seems to me that the lore surrounding a lunar eclipse – that it forces us to look at what’s been hidden from view, perhaps ideas or emotions or beliefs that we’ve even hidden from ourselves – is impacting everyone on the planet right now, but especially us here in the U.S.

Such beautiful markings – Photo: L. Weikel

Decision Time

It seems to me, then, that when we look, when we dare to uncover the stuff that maybe we feel a bit of shame over or discomfort, or possibly even guilt for feeling or thinking or believing, we need to take it one step further. We need to make a decision.

We need to decide: do these beliefs truly serve me? Does believing them make my life better? Do I honestly feel happier or proud of myself for holding on to these beliefs?

And if our answer is no to any of these questions, we need to clean out.

Which way are we going? – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-538)

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)

Weather is Turning Foul – Day 544

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Photo: L. Weikel

Foul

The weather is turning as foul as predicted. Wind is whipping fat globs of rain and slush through the air like paintball pellets. Hearing the splatter on the windows as I sat down to write, I just realized I forgot to bring in my plants, the ones I’d recently allowed to spend some time outside, ‘on their own,’ encouraging them to reconnect with their feral roots.

OK, phew! I brought everything in. Wow, it’s nasty out there.

This Week

I’d like to welcome all of you to the weekend. It may not feel all that different from the days of the week that you just endured, but I think we all know, for most of us at least, there still remains a psychological difference. Old habits die hard.

And as I write, thunder rumbles.

Even though I love thunder and lightning, thunder can feel ominous – or perfectly in keeping with the milieu of the times. I must admit that’s how it feels at the moment: a perfect, ominous warning.

If anyone felt this week was particularly stressful, I want you to hear me: YOU ARE NOT ALONE! I don’t know if it was the full moon or the culmination of being on lockdown for almost two months, the relentless information, misinformation, lying, and scare tactics we’re bombarded with, or what it is. But this has been a week.

I’ve had a number of people tell me that they’re having trouble sleeping. Even if they succeed in falling asleep, they often find themselves dreaming copiously and restlessly, and often the dreams turn to nightmares.

Early Stretch

It sounds like a good portion of these dreams and nightmares are taking apocalyptic turns. Everything feels momentous these days. We really don’t know what’s coming at us from one day to the next, so it only stands to reason that we play out possible scenarios in our dreams.

Seriously: the mere word pandemic sounds like something that belongs in a Hollywood movie, not the past two months of our lives. And now, with this bizarre push to get the country back up and ‘running’ no matter the cost in human lives, we’re entering a new phase of a national nightmare.

We’ve only just begun learning how to deal with all of this. And yet, we’re almost getting whiplash, trying to keep track of whether ‘the worst is over’ or – more likely – the ‘worst’ has moved to other parts of the country where it appears honesty about testing and infection rates and deaths may not be the highest priority of those calling the shots.

False Sense of Security

My sense is that people all across the country have watched the way New York has handled the initial crush of cases, including the way Governor Cuomo has addressed his constituents (and the rest of the nation) each and every day with facts and emotional fortitude. On some level, even though many find it easy to judge the hell out of them, deep down, we all believe we’re New Yorkers. We felt that on 9/11 and we feel it now. We resonate with the attitude of “New York Tough.”

But I fear the success New York is having in meeting this challenge head-on is creating a false sense of security for the rest of the nation.

The push to get back to an illusory normal is almost certainly ill-advised, especially since the rest of the country (outside of maybe New York and New Jersey) have yet to reach their peak. I have a feeling many of us know that to be true on a visceral level. Much more loss is about to take place, and it’s the stuff of nightmares.

Honesty? Transparency?

And while we hope the governors of the states where numbers are starting to soar (when they deign to reveal those numbers – another tip off that ‘this is not New York’) will put their people first and give them every fact and number and piece of information that will help them make informed decisions for their health and that of their families, if we’re honest, we can see the writing on the wall.

The requisite honesty and transparency are profoundly and horrifyingly lacking.

Perhaps we need to give expression to the terror that courses through our body when we consider how fast and far the Coronavirus is spreading across the country, especially in our nursing and extended care facilities, prisons, and certain factory settings (such as meat packing plants), and other places of congregate living or working. We need to express it so we can release it.

And isn’t that really what this full moon is all about? Letting the light of the full moon shine upon our fears so we can identify them and let them go ?

The first responsibility is to be honest with ourselves. Then we can wake from our nightmares and prevail. Together.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-567)

Patience and Acceptance – Day 521

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Sunset 15 April 2020 – Photo: L. Weikel

Patience and Acceptance

I’m feeling quiet this evening. Seeking patience and acceptance.

While I’m lucky enough to say that, as of this writing, I’ve only had one friend test positive for Covid-19 so far, I am witnessing a troubling number of older people close to friends and family passing away.

While I’m virtually certain these deaths are not related to the virus directly, I can’t imagine there’s not some undercurrent of a feeling that it’s ‘time to go’ influencing people at this time. It just feels like there are a lot of people choosing to let go. And it’s not as if they have a death wish. That’s not at all what I’m saying nor what I want to imply.

In fact, quite the contrary.

Understandable

At any given moment, our souls can see what’s going on in the world. Our souls know and are cognizant of far more than our ego-selves are conscious of processing and simply ‘knowing’ on a daily basis. Our souls are watching. And listening. And on a profound level, our souls ultimately decide whether we’ve accomplished enough of the tasks we set for ourselves in this lifetime to make it okay for us to go – or whether we need to remain and address a couple more things before our time here on Earth is complete.

Given everything we’re witnessing, it feels understandable. Really, really hard for those of us left to live the rest of our lives without them, but understandable from a higher perspective.

And all day today, I kept envisioning the Tree of Life and the words of the “Tradition” paragraph I included in yesterday’s post:

“The Tree of Life is the archetype of all spiritual knowledge. The trunk forms branches and the branches form leaves. Humans are like the leaves. We reach a certain ripeness, and the time comes to go into the Spirit World. Our bodies drop to the earth, like leaves of the tree.”

Ripeness. Fullest expression. Greatest color and vibrancy.

Sometimes the most beautiful leaves are the ones no longer clinging to the tree, but have let go and dropped to the Earth.

Patience and acceptance. Sometimes easier said than done. Love to those who are trying to find and live both.

(T-590)