Pierre's Chocolates Archives - Owl Medicine: Shamanic Healing

Last of My Stash

We’ve all faced it at one point or another. As regrettable as it is, it’s also inevitable. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing. And that, my friends, is why I’m taking a moment to document this grievous moment. If it’s going to hurt, we might as well share it. It’s the last of my stash.

I’m writing about this tonight because I know, deep down, all of you can relate. Your temptation may not be a milk chocolate cashew turtle from Pierre’s. But surely you each have your weakness, your predilection that yearns to be sated when you realize life really is freaking short.

My attitude may sound cavalier, but I’m also brought up short.

Delayed Gratification

Yeah, I have only one more cashew turtle left to eat. And I probably won’t eat it tonight. I’ll hoard it a little longer (maybe a day or so at most) because I’m a little weird about delayed gratification.

Yikes; that’s probably way too much information to be sharing. But it’s true. I’ve been known to save the best bite for last only to have a puppy snatch that very last savory morsel clean off my plate when I was distracted for a moment. (The fact s/he was even close enough to my plate to do so is a subject for another time.)

But the fact remains that I’m someone who doesn’t like a good thing to end. So I drag stuff out. And it’s not just food-related, either. When I have a good book to read, I’m often torn between racing through the final chapter or several pages, devouring them with glee, or savoring each paragraph and taking a few days to lay the book to rest.

The danger in this, of course, is that one day I may not get the chance to complete anything ever again. What a shame it would be to leave that turtle uneaten. Or the book’s ending unappreciated. Or the story I always wanted to tell untold.

Grief Clarifies

A dear friend and her family recently suffered a sudden and tragic loss. Holding them in their grief (even if from afar), my thoughts have been with the one whose seat will be empty at the next reunion. They were only half a dozen years younger than I am, and at this stage of the game, that’s not a huge gap. I’ve contemplated their worries and stresses of late. Their dreams. Their goals yet unfulfilled.

Were they eating around their filet mignon, saving the rarest, juiciest, most tender piece for last?

From what I can tell in reading about them and even watching a video of them describing how they translated a lifelong creative passion into a fascinating career, what I keep coming back to is the warmth I saw in their eyes and the crinkles at the corners that spoke of kindness and laughter.

I hope they savored as much of their life as possible. At least, I hope there are very few uneaten turtles in their home, either literally or metaphorically. May we all make a point of appreciating the bounty of our now and indulging in the last of our stash. To life.

(T+58)

Turtle – Photo: L. Weikel

Turtle

Over the past five days, Turtle has shown up in my ‘picks’ for the day three times. Sixty percent of the time. Given that there are 56 cards from which to choose (four of those being blanks), it’s pretty obvious that Turtle was trying to bring me a message.

On those days, especially, I made a point of paying attention to my connection to Mother Earth by getting and staying grounded. No matter how crappy the weather, I committed myself to walking at least two miles – and on two of those days, I managed to sneak in the entire four mile ‘walkabout.’

Staying Connected

To be honest? I assumed Spirit was counseling me to get grounded, to refrain from flights of paranoia or thoughts of unkindness or intrigue or backstabbing. I took solace in Turtle’s advice to get and stay connected to Mother Earth – knowing in my heart that She would never forsake me – and remembering it’s the times of greatest stress and challenge that ask us to remember from whence our strength and comfort is generated.

So I walked. I walked and watched and listened. I noticed the changeability of the weather and listened to the wind whooshing through the very tops of the pine trees lining the road. I paid attention as flocks of birds responded to the shifts and adjusted their trajectories in order to make the most of the changing conditions they encountered.

Is It the Shell?

I wondered, as I walked, “Is it Turtle’s shell I’m being called to notice?” That’s such an obvious aspect, the protection afforded by its shell, its home; the ability to withdraw, tuck in, retreat. Yet, I wasn’t sure.

Yeah, I could withdraw. I could. But as tempting as that was, the message felt less a call to withdraw as it was a demand for connection.

“If you have chosen the Turtle symbol, you are being asked to honor the creative source within you, to be grounded to the Earth, and to observe your situation with motherly compassion. Use the water and earth energies, which represent Turtle’s two homes, to flow harmoniously with your situation and to place your feet firmly on the ground in a power stance.”*

Gratitude

And then it dawned on me. Two of those three days I chose Turtle, it appeared reversed. I realized I needed to pay particular attention to what the reversal of Turtle could be trying to convey to me:

“The idea of a Turtle helplessly trying to right itself after it has been flipped upside down can also symbolize contrary Turtle. You are not a victim, and you are not helpless, no matter how much it may see like this is the case in your present situation. To right the ill-dignified Turtle, you need only list the things you are grateful for, and from that grateful place in your heart, look for the abundance of alternatives that Mother Earth gives.”* (emphasis added)

Ah yes.

It’s essential to make the effort to be present and aware of my life, my friends, my connection to Spirit, including the amazing array of blessings my life offers me every single day. It’s important to feel snowflakes flecked with sleet nick my cheeks only a day after hearing peepers prematurely sing their spring songs.

In embracing my connection to Mother Earth and realizing the protection the shell of my blessings provides me, I realize: She really does provide us with an abundance of alternatives.