Day Fifteen (T-1096)

“Cawing” It Like I See It

 

This will probably be a pretty short post. I’m still in the midst of my laptop saga. There is a chance I will be visited by a Dell technician tomorrow, provided the new motherboard and LCD something-or-other have been delivered. But it sounds like the right hand doesn’t know what the left hand is doing, so it will be interesting to see how this unfolds. And of course I will keep you updated!

Once again: I am SO GRATEFUL to have my MacBook Air. Geesh, where would I be without it?

In the meantime, I want to alert you to a decidedly dubious decision made by Facebook today.

I have a great friend, Myrina, who recently launched a website and instagram account offering a unique and fascinating insight into the application of tarot in our lives, working specifically with a really cool deck that focuses on alchemy. This is her website . Her instagram name is cosmic.meta.crow.

Anyway, this is the post she just made a few days ago:

Now I want you to contemplate everything you see and hear and read about not only on FB, but also on television, in magazines, in movies, etc. Think about all of the egregious images and concepts that fill our airwaves every day.

Well, guess what? (I’m sure on some level you won’t be surprised in the least.) Facebook (or Instagram) (or both) refused to allow Myrina to promote her post for this week (a three card “spread” for which she offers an interpretation for readers to ponder) because of the Lovers Card!

Check that card out. It doesn’t even have any full-frontal nudity! It is the Lovers card. And her post was deemed offensive.

I find it offensive that we can be inundated with violence every day, but a drawing of two human bodies, in repose and affection, with hardly the slightest glimpse of anything is deemed too risqué for publication.

I think this whole ridiculousness highlights the astonishing prudishness (or should I say, “Puritanism?”) that remains vital and flourishing in this country.

How in the world can the human body be deemed offensive when killing and maiming it is not? Indeed, even more perverse is the categorization of the concept of “Lovers” as objectionable. Is it sex? They’re clearly not “having sex” on this card. Just what is so terrifying about the ultimate expression of our desire for union anyway?

If you are interested in a fascinating, complex, introspective perspective on tarot and how it might provide you with some insight and guidance each week, I encourage you to visit my subversive cosmic.meta.crow friend’s site. Be a little naughty (at least, according to Facebook) – you just might fly free!

Moose’s Message – Day Eight (T-1103)

 

Moose’s Message

To briefly recap my post from yesterday, last Sunday (11/11), the 7th anniversary of the death of our son Karl, I received the inspiration (and subsequent confirmation from several sources) that the best way to honor our son’s life as a creative, amazing person was for my husband to paint (he is a visual artist) and for me to write. Upon receiving this ‘message,’ more specifics were conveyed, and the concept of the 1111 Devotion became manifest.

Then last Monday night I published my initial Devotion post, following through on my acknowledgment of the message from Spirit and publicly committing to this Act of Power.

I need to admit that I’ve shied away from publishing my blog consistently for a myriad of self-deprecating reasons, which I won’t bore you by enumerating. Suffice it to say, I guess I’m ‘over that.’ Or at least I’m being forced to let go of those old beliefs, since if I indulge them, I simply will not have the wherewithal to go forward with this commitment.

There’s probably a wonderful energetic confluence here. I’ve been thinking a lot about wisdom and ‘elderhood’ lately. What it means to be an elder and how our society has, in many ways, concomitantly lost respect for ‘elderhood’ and actually experienced a dearth of true ‘elders.’

And I’ve been contemplating a ‘change’ in what I do in the world. Not actually thinking about it; more sensing its impending arrival and wondering what it will mean to me. More teaching? Less individual healing work? Returning to writing? Something completely different that I don’t even have on my radar at the moment? I do not know. But clarity does seem to be emerging from a most unexpected place.

I woke up on Tuesday morning feeling both exhilarated and more than a bit freaked out. I’d declared to the world (my world, at least – the people who care enough to read my words and, perhaps equally important, my Self) that I was going to write a blog post every single day for 1111 days (over three years!) as a devotional act dedicated to the memory of my son Karl.

I was curious to see what I would pick for the day. Would it be a card that would tell me I should run and hide (Prairie Dog, for instance)? Or that I’d done something really dumb to sabotage myself or my reputation (Coyote)?  In spite of the knowledge that I might receive such a message, I must admit: I felt OK, deep down in my heart of hearts, about making such a wild commitment. And I felt that even if I received a kick in the pants, or a challenge to my confidence, I’d be OK. I’d do my best to follow through. And that would have to be enough. (And honestly? Feeling that sense of peace that however this plays out will be ok was – and is –  bizarre.)

Needless to say, since you already know, I picked:   Moose2.

And because I ended up writing a detailed explication of what ‘squared’ means and how we would interpret it, I’m just going to fill you in on the parts of Moose that jumped out at me that morning.

Right off the bat, the poem at the beginning touched my heart:

 

“Moose…

Help me to honor the gifts I can give,

And recognize my worthiness long as I live.”

 

In talking to Karl about this undertaking, he encouraged me to believe that sharing my thoughts about everyday things might actually be of benefit to someone. I’ve been skeptical of that attitude for a long time. (This isn’t the first time he’s encouraged me to ‘write more.’) But let’s be honest. If I’m going to write 1111 posts, I’m going to be talking about a lot of mundane stuff! I take for granted how quirky my perspective can be sometimes. Maybe Moose was telling me that quirkiness just might be a gift, as is my ability to convey it.

The ‘headline’ attribute assigned to Moose in the cards is “self-esteem.” Well, that was self-evident. I should feel good about the decision.

The first paragraph only served to bring this idea home:

 

“Moose is found in the North of the medicine wheel, as is Buffalo. North represents the place of wisdom. Self-esteem is the medicine of Moose because it represents the power of recognizing that wisdom has been used in a situation and that recognition or a pat on the back is deserved.” (ital. added)

 

I had to laugh out loud, though, when I came to this sentence in the following paragraph.

 

 “…The bellow of a male Moose can be viewed as a positive force, since it represents his willingness to ‘tell the world’ about his feelings.”

 

I’d read this a million times before, but of course it took on an entirely new and deeper meaning when applied to me deciding to publicly commit to sharing my thoughts (and feelings) ‘on-line’ for the next 3+ years.

The next paragraph, to my delight, seemed to capture the shift I was feeling within myself (much to my very own surprise) that was actually encouraging me to engage in this commitment:

 

“This ‘tell the world’ trait contains a joyfulness which only comes with a sense of accomplishment. There is no greater joy than a job well done. This trait is therefore not a seeking of approval, but rather an enjoyment of sharing because of the spontaneous explosion of joy that comes from the deepest part of one’s being.” (ital. added)

 

Yes. That was it! I looked up at Karl as I read these words aloud. He knew:  This was big for me.

Up to this point in my life, every time I thought about writing a blog on a consistent basis, I got snagged on the fact that I knew my ego would be seeking approval. How did I know that? Because I felt I had nothing worthwhile to say.  And as long as that was true, maybe I didn’t.

Somehow, relatively recently, perhaps in contemplation of the fact that I will turn 60 in March or perhaps because the stars have aligned and I am finally ready to embark upon the next third of my life, I feel like I’m ready to simply share. And people can take it or leave it. If I am writing every day as an act of devotion to my son, then I am acting with integrity and impeccability as far as I am concerned. And really, all I can do is walk my talk and speak my truth.

I don’t need the approval of others to either give me permission or make me feel like my words or my experiences are of value. That’s a rather astonishing feeling, I have to admit. And believe me, it doesn’t mean I don’t care at all how I am perceived. But a shift has taken place. And I’m taking a step onto a new path. And Moose was there – squared – to offer me initiation.

Devotion

Marking an Anniversary

Yesterday marked the seventh anniversary of my eldest son, Karl’s, very sudden and unexpected death. He drowned alone in a hot spring in the No-Man’s-Land of the California desert on the west side of the Chocolate Mountains. He was 30 years old.

I awakened yesterday to text messages from several amazing friends and a handful of family members, each reaching out and assuring me via electronic hugs and tender words that he is remembered. That Karl existed. That he mattered.

Half an hour later I read these kind wishes out loud as my husband Karl and I sipped coffee and looked at each other across the living room, sunlight refracting through cut-glass crystal ornaments hanging in our windows casting rainbow dogs throughout the room. Magic amid sorrow.

Yearning to Honor His Life

“How can we honor Karl’s life?” I asked his father, my husband of 38 years. The answer flashed in my awareness before the final word of my question made its way across the room.

“I don’t know?” his furrowed brow indicating he didn’t want to hazard a guess.

“Yeah, you do. We both do.” I searched his face, my eyes locking with his, knowing he, too, knew instantly. In that moment. As soon as I’d voiced the question.

“Our art?” he asked, doubt dusting the edges of his response.

“Yes,” I affirmed, my heart beating just a little bit faster because he really did know it, too. “Your painting. My writing.”

We just sat there. Looking at each other. “Creation. Creativity. It’s what he was all about. It’s what LIFE is all about,” I added. “And we need to do it without any regard for its ‘worth’ to others. We just need to do it.”

Minutes later, we picked our Medicine Cards© for the day, finished our coffee, and moved forward, silently contemplating what exactly this might mean for each of us.

1111 Devotion – An Act of Power

For me, the cards I chose reinforced the answer to my question. Indeed, they added a specificity that, along with other synchronous indicators I’d encountered within the past 12 days (but only put together yesterday afternoon), resulted in the blog post you are reading right now. My first blog post in 11 months.

Almost always, I choose cards each morning with Karl, over coffee, silently asking, “How can I be of highest service to my self today?” How I came to realize the importance of this question (and how unselfish it actually is, in spite of how it sounds) is perhaps something I’ll address another day. But yesterday, my question was different. It was, “How can I be of greatest service to Karl’s memory?”

I chose Dolphin reversed with Jaguar underneath.

As I will explain, this led me to realize that I am being called to engage in an Act of Power: an act of Devotion, if you will. According 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.” Mmm, yes. That feels right.

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. Some may only be a sentence long, for that may be all I can muster. Some may, and let’s face it, almost certainly will, be much longer. The topics may wander all over the map; there is no consistent theme to these future posts, at least from my perspective at this moment, at the outset of this journey. And considering that these posts will take me – us, if you join me – to November 26th, 2021, I probably cannot even imagine the topics that will arise for me to discuss.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I am daunted by the discipline this will take.

But I will listen to the message. I will engage in this act of devotion to my son’s memory. And so, I begin.