Unexpected Journeys...
2/12/2019
Driving home this weekend, I got to experience one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen (and coming from New Mexico, the land of seemingly endless amazing sunsets, that's saying a lot...). It might have been some of the-one-that-got-away photographer's phenomenon, in that I was 'only' able to appreciate it with my eyes and make soul imprints rather than capturing shadows and light with my camera, a slightly more 'real' feeling device, I suppose. Those times are some of the most magical, the times that aren't recorded imperfectly with my camera, but rather, rendered surreally-perfect within my mind's eye. The sun was going down, letting just a window of light shine through and turn some of the peaks and foothills of the Sangre de Cristos brilliant red, perfect for their namesake. That bright red fenestra stood out in stark contrast to the dark blue sky and surrounding mountains. Just incredible. I stared at it as long as was possible to safely do while driving (and perhaps a bit longer...). It was difficult to tear my eyes away. As we climbed the hill into Santa Fe, the last rays of the sun reached out to us, strong fingers of orange reaching through the billowing, grey gossamer ceiling of clouds, highlighted with tangerine edges. At last, the deep orange maw was reduced to a sliver, and then nothing but darkness punctuated by the occasional lights from the desert dwellers and the reflectors along the highway.
The past few months have come with great highs and lows. As I've come to expect, when I'm feeling at the highest, my most accomplished, having breakthroughs in areas that have long needed attention, other less attended parts of my existence come unraveled. So called suffering, or existence, if you are so inclined (I am not, however). Life exists for more than lessons. Lessons learned, through beautiful tests. I like a challenge.
Some tremendous things have happened over the past 108 days. I've made connections within and without myself like I'd never imagined. Breakthroughs coming in unexpected ways. Unexpected journeys. Unexpected loss, unexpected insight.
(Most of what's written below was written on or before Dec. 29th, 2018, except for where edits were made for ease of reading.)
We need to pay attention to the signs around and within us. We need to continue to take time to show our loved ones we care about them. We need to listen to our own needs and give ourselves time to heal when we need it, and feel neither weak or guilty for doing so.
We put out luminarias this year. Traditionally, they were used to light the way for Jesus on Christmas Eve. I thought they might be nice to light the way for my dear aunt Patty as she travels on this journey into everywhere. I think she had such a hard time finding a place to call home because she needed something bigger to house her power, mere mortal dwellings wouldn't do. She called out to Mother Earth with the request to take her back into the womb. And the Earth swallowed her up. She needed the universe, and now she is home everywhere. The moon and the stars, the wind, she calls them all home now. She is everywhere and I can hear her laughter all around me.
Our lemon tree bloomed for the first time yesterday, the sweet fragrance so strong from the single open blossom. I could feel her hand upon it, helping bring forth this new possibility of life, a gift to us when we have nothing more than our prayers to her to offer. Last night, we had one of the wildest storms that I can remember. Amidst the windy gusts were huge, fluffy clumps of snow, white, like her hair. There was a sense of peace, of meditation, of playful laughter as we watched the snow fall - Dante for the first time. I felt like she was the whole sky, covering us in her embrace. We danced while we watched the snow fall. Bodhi made his version of a snow angel, tracing the shape of an angel in the snow with his fingers, and she became covered in snow once again.
This morning, the children in the neighborhood came out to play in the snow. I could hear them laughing in their backyards, and
I saw Patty smiling at all of them, pleased with the joy around her that she created. I felt a sense of peace, a wave of joy, a sense that she is happy in this everywhere place. She wants us to be joyful. To sing, to dance, to smile. To appreciate what we have, to love.
"Please - do not just forget those who made impact in your life. Deep lovers and deep feelers, they may be lonely, struggling to love themselves. Because they gave all their love TO YOU. Remember to reach out and thank those who helped you rise. Please."
"Such a strong, literal force of nature... I called ... right away when I heard the news and she told me to go outside and send her love. It feels like rushing energy when I do, I bet it's the prayers of all the mamas she helped, good lord so many women. I bet it's all of us praying for her. Like the stars in the sky, that many prayers of mamas singing calling love prayers of gratitude. So many mamas and so many babies still connected to her strong loving hands and heart, even as she travels through the cosmos home."
"She was a medicine woman."
"I hope to be as great an aunt as some of the ones I've lost. This one... she exposed me to Janis Joplin and all sorts of music my mother would have never played, explained the birds and the bees in medical terms my mother could never muster, always took my calls, was always loving. We shared crazy curly hair, bright eyes and dark eyebrows... people often mistook me for her daughter. I hope that when I pass from the earth I will have impacted as many people for the good as she did and certainly at least my nieces and nephews."
You told me when you died, you wanted us to burn your body on a raft of branches on your pond, dancing around the fiery reflections wearing your clothes. We laughed. I remember times when you made me feel better, even when I thought I was the one comforting YOU. I remember laughing with you so many times, the sound of our laughter ringing out in one joined voice. I love your laugh. It will always be with me. I don't have any of your clothes, so I'm wearing one of your necklaces, and I hope I'll feel like dancing again soon. I love you. I miss you. I'm trying not to be heart broken, but this place seems a bit darker without you here.
Patricia Grace 1951-2018
The past few months have come with great highs and lows. As I've come to expect, when I'm feeling at the highest, my most accomplished, having breakthroughs in areas that have long needed attention, other less attended parts of my existence come unraveled. So called suffering, or existence, if you are so inclined (I am not, however). Life exists for more than lessons. Lessons learned, through beautiful tests. I like a challenge.
Some tremendous things have happened over the past 108 days. I've made connections within and without myself like I'd never imagined. Breakthroughs coming in unexpected ways. Unexpected journeys. Unexpected loss, unexpected insight.
(Most of what's written below was written on or before Dec. 29th, 2018, except for where edits were made for ease of reading.)
We need to pay attention to the signs around and within us. We need to continue to take time to show our loved ones we care about them. We need to listen to our own needs and give ourselves time to heal when we need it, and feel neither weak or guilty for doing so.
We put out luminarias this year. Traditionally, they were used to light the way for Jesus on Christmas Eve. I thought they might be nice to light the way for my dear aunt Patty as she travels on this journey into everywhere. I think she had such a hard time finding a place to call home because she needed something bigger to house her power, mere mortal dwellings wouldn't do. She called out to Mother Earth with the request to take her back into the womb. And the Earth swallowed her up. She needed the universe, and now she is home everywhere. The moon and the stars, the wind, she calls them all home now. She is everywhere and I can hear her laughter all around me.
Our lemon tree bloomed for the first time yesterday, the sweet fragrance so strong from the single open blossom. I could feel her hand upon it, helping bring forth this new possibility of life, a gift to us when we have nothing more than our prayers to her to offer. Last night, we had one of the wildest storms that I can remember. Amidst the windy gusts were huge, fluffy clumps of snow, white, like her hair. There was a sense of peace, of meditation, of playful laughter as we watched the snow fall - Dante for the first time. I felt like she was the whole sky, covering us in her embrace. We danced while we watched the snow fall. Bodhi made his version of a snow angel, tracing the shape of an angel in the snow with his fingers, and she became covered in snow once again.
This morning, the children in the neighborhood came out to play in the snow. I could hear them laughing in their backyards, and
I saw Patty smiling at all of them, pleased with the joy around her that she created. I felt a sense of peace, a wave of joy, a sense that she is happy in this everywhere place. She wants us to be joyful. To sing, to dance, to smile. To appreciate what we have, to love.
"Please - do not just forget those who made impact in your life. Deep lovers and deep feelers, they may be lonely, struggling to love themselves. Because they gave all their love TO YOU. Remember to reach out and thank those who helped you rise. Please."
"Such a strong, literal force of nature... I called ... right away when I heard the news and she told me to go outside and send her love. It feels like rushing energy when I do, I bet it's the prayers of all the mamas she helped, good lord so many women. I bet it's all of us praying for her. Like the stars in the sky, that many prayers of mamas singing calling love prayers of gratitude. So many mamas and so many babies still connected to her strong loving hands and heart, even as she travels through the cosmos home."
"She was a medicine woman."
"I hope to be as great an aunt as some of the ones I've lost. This one... she exposed me to Janis Joplin and all sorts of music my mother would have never played, explained the birds and the bees in medical terms my mother could never muster, always took my calls, was always loving. We shared crazy curly hair, bright eyes and dark eyebrows... people often mistook me for her daughter. I hope that when I pass from the earth I will have impacted as many people for the good as she did and certainly at least my nieces and nephews."
You told me when you died, you wanted us to burn your body on a raft of branches on your pond, dancing around the fiery reflections wearing your clothes. We laughed. I remember times when you made me feel better, even when I thought I was the one comforting YOU. I remember laughing with you so many times, the sound of our laughter ringing out in one joined voice. I love your laugh. It will always be with me. I don't have any of your clothes, so I'm wearing one of your necklaces, and I hope I'll feel like dancing again soon. I love you. I miss you. I'm trying not to be heart broken, but this place seems a bit darker without you here.
Patricia Grace 1951-2018
Patty and her two dates to prom
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Patty - in the middle, not the one picking her nose (that would be my mom, digging for gold in her bedtime prayer pose photo... bless her)
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