It’s the Little Things

As promised, here’s another post awaiting creation and publication in the draft folder right before Mercury stations direct tomorrow 2/20/21. This has been a frustrating transit for me, but it was so much better than it has been for many. I am thinking about those in the South who are without power, water, and food during a pandemic in Winter here in the USA. It all comes back to gratitude.

This post is about reinvention and some conclusions about gratitude and progress, looking at Thanksgiving and my Birthday in particular. Family factors in greatly here and my focus on inter-generational healing is accelerating. So it is natural that something as triggering as holidaze and birthdays would be on my mind.This is not easy for me to write about because some of the pain, loss, and rejection still remains. Yet I have come a long way.  So many of us are fixated on birthdays and their favorite holidays.

Why do so many spend all year focusing only on 3 days ?

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Reclaiming Thanksgiving by transforming grief into newfound joy .

It has been a few years since I spent Thanksgiving with my family and many reasons come into play. I must admit the last time I visited my sister’s house for Thanksgiving it was so sad. My brother in law’s brother ( who I know)  had recently lost his eldest daughter to an opioid overdose said to be accidental. She left a very young son behind. My brother in law cooked the dinner and then stayed upstairs, claiming to be ill. Only a few people were present, including my sister’s in-laws, grandparents to the young woman who died. It was a very somber evening and I felt more out of place than usual. Then of course was the chair. The last time I saw my dad alive was on Thanksgiving at my sister’s house. He sat in the same chair. My sister is a major control freak who liked to arrange the seating arrangement, even for a small gathering. After he died, they gave me his chair to sit in. I was not having it. For one, it was situated in front of a small flight of stairs so if I were to move it to far,  backwards I would fall into the rec room. Most importantly, I wondered why I was being singled out. It was a complicated memory and I needed distance from that chair. No one seemed to understand my reaction, which really came as no surprise.

I once loved this holiday but began to loathe it once my sister took over. I never enjoyed going to her house except to see my nieces. It was not a warm welcoming place for me and my mother made a better meal. She was known for her stuffing. People would ask for leftovers to take home. It was a thing. Until it wasn’t.

Often I would go to Cracker Barrel instead. It is not the same as a family celebration, but it has a homey feel and delicious food ( when you visit at the right times). The last time I was there was in 2019. I remember ordering an extra portion of ham. When it arrived I cut it up and mixed it in with the stuffing. Dee-licious! It took me a good while to see this at a deeper level. I was unconsciously re-claiming my mom’s stuffing. The original recipe included ham and mushrooms. The ham was eliminated first I guess because of calories. Then went the mushrooms because one of my sister’s in laws does not like mushrooms. I can guarantee you this would never happen when my mom hosted the holiday. If we did not like an ingredient, well then we did not have to eat the dish. The stuffing was the highlight of the meal and it was reduced to something boring and plain. But when I mixed smoked ham into the Cracker Barrel stuffing, a childhood memory was resurrected. Focusing on gratitude, creating alternative plans, and eating holiday foods throughout the year ( when available) also works. The loss of my niece in law motivated me to switch over to addiction work. While I am not sure I want to continue after around 3 1/2 years in, it was a good run and I helped some people. I certainly learned a lot which has supported my spiritual growth.

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Birthing new values and healing on that Special Day.

Spending this last birthday alone in 2020 was tough. My family did not make time for my “special day” in 2019 either, but I did celebrate with friends. Not in 2020, it was just me turning 60.  Boo-hoo! Yet working with energy has been helpful in unleashing creativity and clarity around what I really need at any given time. I bought Mystic Topaz earrings for one birthday. reclaiming my birth stone and enjoying its healing and protective properties. Recently I purchased some pendants and loose crystals. I was also gifted a Mookaite heart which is a very nurturing stone and enhances ancestor work. Included with the Topaz and Mookaite above are images of my Flourite worry stone, which activates heart opening and my Hematoid Quartz Heart, known for grounding. I am just learning how these stones work along with my Reiki attunements. I noticed on my last birthday I asked myself what I needed most and I went with fall foliage, a “joyride” and yummy takeout. The call from my eldest niece was the highlight of the day as I treasure the relationship we keep building. Sometimes crisis or lack can force you to examine priorities and values. This is a worthy exercise regardless of situation. In graduate school we called it values clarification ( I forgot I knew that, clearly Spirit is working with me here.) In the end, the little things are not so little. A call from a loved one, a cake with a candle, an unexpected text, a walk in the woods, a song in your heart.

Let’s co create each day however we like so we can celebrate our birthday, Thanksgiving or Christmas all the time!

Thanksgiving images courtesy of wikipedia. org public domain

 

All is Not What it Seems

Note: I am not sure this ever made it here but I am perusing drafts now for the end of Mercury Retrograde. I posted this as a guest blogger for a blog that went bye-bye. This content has resonance since I am doing more ancestral research and preparing to embark on my ancestral lineage healing soon. My prayer is that whoever needs to see this material will find it.  much love, Linda

Death is not my thing. I clearly remember being about 7 years old lying in bed instead of sleeping. I decided that we shall live to be 100 years old. I subtracted 7 from 100 to conclude I only had 93 years to live. Some would say I was precocious or an old soul, but c’mon! Why was I lamenting on my remaining 93 years at such a tender age? I had not experienced any major losses yet. I was not surrounded by serious illness or injury. Why was I so morose? All is not what it seems.

When my sister’s friend’s father was terminal, I was in my teens. I took this incredibly hard. My mother sensed that I don’t handle death well. I just could not fathom life without this kind man who was needed as a father and husband. I gathered that I was supposed to be less involved, but that’s nothing new. My family always complained that I was “too sensitive.”

But this is the thing ~ the trauma of sudden tragic death was coded within my DNA. I was carrying my father’s unfinished pain and anguish over the loss of his father so many decades ago. It took me a very long time to discover that this psychic overlay was infecting my ability to integrate death into life.

My dad adored his father, who I never met. He died as a result of a car accident when my dad was about 10 years old. This event shaped his life in ways I doubt he understood. It fed his ambition, bitterness, and ability to trust in life. Being raised by someone locked in trauma inhibited my ability to process loss in a healthy way. I did not know there was any other way.

My father lived a long life and survived most of the male relatives of his generation. He seemed quite resilient, especially during the last ten to fifteen years of his life that were plagued with a variety of serious illnesses. My mother has said his love of life kept him here. Perhaps he realized that life is a gift and longevity is precious. He was quite optimistic about his life, despite his bitterness around grief. There lies the paradox.

So how did I address my generational trauma? I studied psychology and became a therapist. I learned more about the human condition and found refuge in helping others heal. You can also heal yourself this way. I created a Grief and Loss group at one of the programs where I worked as a therapist/supervisor. Facing up to the topic of death and loss can be very cathartic.

Another strategy I use is to live my life to the fullest, moment by moment. I recognize my time here is short and I want to live as the Tim McGraw song says, “Like I was Dying.” Blogging has brought me back to life and extended my reach all over the planet. Realizing my dream of being a writer has really allowed me to live more fully and authentically. Dreams and goals can change, but bringing your desires into being with intention can be a constant through one’s journey here.

My spiritual path has also made a huge impact on my ability to be present in the face of eventual loss of my physical body. The book Dying to Be Me by Anita Moorjani really struck a chord for me. She espouses living in the face of fear as a result of a remarkable near death experience. A recent session with a medium took my understanding of eternity to a new level. Being a witness to several deceased relatives sharing specific details of their lives was amazing beyond description. This session shifted philosophy and theory and into a bold new realization. There really is a continuation of consciousness.

On the heels of this session, grace stepped in to reframe an old secret into a new way of being. One of my dad’s superstitions was that the month of May was cursed. He referred to it as “Marvelous May.” All I knew was that my grandfather was killed in May. I wondered what else happened then, but was afraid to ask. Well this past May 19th I had two medical tests performed. After the tests were completed, my mom told me she was very worried about the date. She revealed that she miscarried before I was born and it was on May 19th. I never knew it was in May. I responded by asking if any happy events happened in May. When she failed to think of something, I thought about graduations and glanced at my MSW diploma. The date read May 19th, 1996. I told her about it and shared how that was such a great day. I do not think it was a coincidence that the dates correlate. It was time for Spirit to intervene, finally excavating the destructive family legacy that was interfering with living in alignment with Source.

All is not what it seems.

image courtesy of wikipedia.org, public domain

Coping with loss on the spiritual journey

Excellent guidance on coping with loss on the spiritual journey. Karin offers practical tools and illustrates with examples drawn from her own experiences.

Spiritual Awakening

On the spiritual journey, there is often change, and that means loss of what once was and the corresponding emotional upheaval.

The loss or crisis (think about something like burnout, divorce, loss of a job, death of a loved one, illness, trauma) can be either before the awakening to a spiritual dimension of reality or it can come after awakening (or both). Some people have the breakdown first, and then they wake up as a consequence of hitting rock bottom. Or they awaken first, and then circumstances in their life are rearranged by an invisible force and that means loss of the old and arrival of the new. Asking new questions about the meaning of life may well mean that the universe thinks it is time to end an old job or relationship – to replace it with something of which the higher self thinks that it is better.

Regardless…

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New Moon Melancholy

As Scorpio season wanes and the sun moves into Sagittarius today, I am eager to post about my New Scorpio moon experience. So many bleed-ins from the present and past, possibly mixed with my future?

The festivities started last Saturday November 14th in the CVS parking lot. After shopping I return to my car. Parked next to me is a red MG Midget, a relic from the past. As the driver leaves the vehicle, I say ” I like your car. ”

And so it begins.

My first serious boyfriend Paul ( who would not care at all I am using his first name) drove a dark red MG Midget and at that time I had not seen one before ( and frankly have not seen many since). Maybe his Moon in Aries helped him choose the color. I loved that car, a sporty 2 seat convertible that drove us many places together back in the day. I knew immediately that this sighting was a sign from the Divine. What I had yet to discover was its significance. I clearly miss many signs and symbols as I become distracted, but this was such an easy one. I really like cars and notice them often. So who and whatever was guiding me was definitely on point.

I have no baggage with Paul, this wasn’t about him. My mind started leaping on the ride home. I thought of another boyfriend Paul I had met a year or so earlier. I would not say we have huge ties anymore, but who knows? It quickly dawned on me that November 14th, today in this story, was his birthday! I say was, because he is dead.  While he and I were about the same age, he died quite awhile ago. I blogged about it somewhere. It appears from my research that this death was not of natural causes, but I am speculating. I know he had struggles but had hoped he found a way to keep them at bay. So I began to sob….

I sat in the sadness, soaking up all the Plutonian energy. Then Bono came on the radio. The U2 front man has Cap rising and Scorpio moon, potent as this lunation has Saturn in Capricorn as its final depositor. Bono which also has this Saturn placement natally. Did you know his real name is Paul? Did you connect this to the Pluto Saturn conjunction of 2020 which is connected to this New Moon? See how astrology operates and why I am so passionate about it.

First The Sweetest Thing comes on, and I am smiling and crying. These are all blue eyed boys and I am the brown eyed girl, lol! Then the radio plays All That You Can’t Leave Behind and the water works go full throttle. This song is about death, release, and forgiveness and it triggers me about another flame who shares my birthday with this distinction of being born on a New Scorpio moon. The final song on the cosmic playlist is Broken Arrow. I know the Rod Stewart version but this was sung by the songwriter Robbie Robertson from the Band, who is part Native American. Apparently he wanted to incorporate some elements from his native heritage. This song is incredibly intense and I associate with the love of my life, Capricorn rising, Scorpio moon. I really feel my life within this song. Robbie released it in 1987 when I met said love of my life ( thus far). I researched his chart to find linkage and I did discover Pluto right on his descendant. Both LOML and myself have Pluto in the 7th.

I allowed myself to feel everything: sadness, grief, longing, emptiness, etc, I really tapped into my loneliness. Around this time period I have been studying Animist Psychology and having very occult/mystical leaning dreams and mid-waking visions. I have not thoroughly processed these. but some themes include former loves, ancestors, living out loud, and my beloved cats who I believe are now among my guides.

As Venus enters Scorpio, I will continue to remain as open as I can to my guidance. I am not assuming these men, alive or dead, are trying to contact me. I am grateful for what they gave me and what I learned from relationship.

car images courtesy of wikipedia.org, public domain

Dexter on parade

My soulmate and partner in crime Dexter passed away  5 years ago today. He died of heart disease, which makes no sense because he had the biggest heart I had ever known, overflowing with love. I am re-blogging this post in his honor. His company would have made my quarantine so much brighter. My heart was shattered and my sadness unspeakable. This was one of the worst days of my entire life but I do not regret a second I spent with this furry bundle of joy and affection. This is my tribute to my beloved Dex.

Within the past few days I have heard of 2 friends losing their beloved animal companions. Then I had a heartfelt conversation with OM about cats and blogging. While this topic is somewhat off theme, it seems fitting to prepare a simple post about my beloved Dexter.

Dexter

I adopted Dexter back in 2008, a few months after I lost my first cat Jasmine. I renamed him Dexter after careful thought and consideration. It was not because he reminds me of a serial killer. It just suited him better than his original name Sylvester did.

After 16 years ( she was about 8 weeks when I brought her home) , Jasmine succumbed to kidney disease. Watching her decline and deciding when to let her go was among the most agonizingly painful, gut- wrenching times in my entire life. The sadness and pain were almost too much to bear. Jazz died in April 2008, so the anniversary of her passing is quite fresh. Raising this sweet cat from infancy was the closest I have come to motherhood and as we know, children are supposed to outlive their parents. But this is not always the case.

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I was heartbroken for so long after I lost Jazz. This grief was deadening and isolating. I was practicing outpatient therapy full-time and so many of my clients spoke about their pets. Several had cats and these daily sessions were grueling. Eventually I found them healing in a cathartic manner. We do attract what we need, generally speaking. When I felt ready, I began to visit shelters to seek a new cat, not as a replacement, but as an extension of love. Dexter was much older than the kitten I initially desired, and he had been sent to the shelter more than once. It remains a mystery why this adorable soul was rejected not once, but twice!  I would like to believe that it was so I would eventually find him. Within a few short weeks, he settled in and showed me his true nature. I am amazed by his capacity for affection, verbal activity ( he talks more than I do!) and openness. Dex’s personality is the opposite of reserved Diva Jasmine who was more like Greta Garbo. Dex craves attention and human touch and is so delighted to meet * everyone who crosses his path (* squirrels and birds need not apply!)

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What this boisterous ball of joy has taught me about the healing effects of love is boundless. There are no words that can accurately describe his ability to soothe my spirit with his perpetual demonstration of unconditional love.

I love you Dex.

 

POSTSCRIPT:
cool Dexter facts ~

he is left-pawed, just like me 🙂
he enjoys crossing his paws ( dainty indeed)
rolling over and inviting you to rub his belly IS his default position ( boy does he love belly rubs, don’t believe that old wive’s tale to never rub a cat’s belly!)

 

if you love all things warm and fuzzy ( including Sindy’s non- mammalian fish), you gotta visit this page: odyssians

Anticipatory Grief

While one may say this is the perfect time to solidify a meditation practice, I am not finding this true for me. I will use the Calm app or be still for 3o seconds when the Calm commercial comes on but I am not drawn to regular sit down meditation right now. I will find myself staring out the window, mesmerized by nature’s stirrings. While walking outside today I was gently focusing on the buds floating on the breeze’s carpet, making soft patterns in the air. Simply observing the mist dance from the essential oil infuser is also relaxing and meditative in its own way.

These simple observations awaken me to the natural flow of life, undisturbed ( or less disturbed) by human manipulation. Have you noticed how alive Spring has been this year? The birds seem more active, the trees more vibrant and the sky more dynamic. We are part of this cosmic dance, but usually are out of step with the rest of Gaia’s inhabitants.

Over the past few weeks I have thought about my former clients and what life has been like for them since the pandemic. To lose their therapist on top of everything else seems so unfair to me. But fairness is never a certainty. We can strive to be fair in our deeds and actions, but 3D life is not fair at all and may have been designed this way. I pray for my clients and hope they are getting all the support that they need.

I went back into therapy last year for a number of reasons, the primary one being that I was feeling sad at the end of 2018. It seemed prudent to get some support so I would not slide into a depression. While I took this step with ambivalence, I proceeded to find someone ( ” Angie ” ) local and affordable. I did not overthink this process and found someone rather quickly. She is an artist, lives closeby, and works in her home. She is older, very approachable and quite kind. Her home is an oasis, decorated the way I would if I took the time and care and had the resources. I felt safe there in this house with this person to be me, a therapist seeking therapy. I have not been in therapy for a very long time and was not sure how it would go. Ann’s style is very direct and expressive. She shares about her own life with deliberate intention. She chooses to show who she is and says it is becoming more mainstream to have less of a wall between client and clinician. Angie freely gives out articles and resources and is patient. She seemed to be a good choice for me. Imperfect, but certainly capable of holding space for my healing.

Last summer I went to her home for a session and no one was there. I called her after a few minutes went by and she told me she was in the hospital and would be there a few weeks. I was taken aback by this. Angie later divulged she developed leukemia and that treatment is complicated and lengthy. She offered me referrals if I wanted to see someone else. I decided to wait it out and she updated me on her progress. Eventually, we resumed our sessions and her health improved. I became very concerned about her health as she looked very tired and frail. It was a challenge for me to keep myself in the receiving role. Which is why I waited a while between visits. I told myself she would look healthier over time and this is my issue, not hers. When the pandemic happened, I knew I had to stay away and that I do not like zoom sessions. Ironic right, since I was providing telehealth to my clients. A couple of weeks ago after the layoff, I reached out because I needed to vent and get additional support. Imagine my horror when Angie emails me to say she is no longer practicing because she is dying. I wrote back to get clarity and Angie said the leukemia returned. I recall her telling me that if this happened she would not seek more treatment. I brushed her remark aside because the transplant was successful. Well, it was until it wasn’t.

I don’t know how to handle this. I have never gotten an email like this before and I feel abandoned. I do not want to find someone else. I want Angie to get better, yet I respect her choices. I just want the situation to be different. I will not know when she is dead and she could be already gone. I question the point of our brief time working together, that almost did not happen. I was not certain I wanted to open myself up again to a stranger. Was this loss more problematic than what brought me to her in the first place? I won’t know until much later when hindsight kicks in. It was suggested that I perform a ritual to help me mourn. Loss often has an aspect interruption within it. This relationship seems unfinished. And yet it is finished. Angie is true to herself and I appreciate that about her, along with her kindness, resilience from personal difficulties, and her honesty. I also admire how much she loved doing healing work. So many times she would share how lucky she is to be a therapist. Maybe because she chose it later in life and learned to appreciate her second career, or maybe because Angie just enjoyed helping others in this way. Her enthusiasm inspired me to try harder when I wasn’t excited about my work. The articles she gave me will remain part of my connection with her going forward.

One can say that living on Earth in a body always contains anticipatory grief to some degree. Our time here is finite and most of us do not get advance warning. It feels quite heavy to live with so many loose ends. But I will do the best that I can and writing is one form of therapy for me. Releasing my inner world this way is healing and comes naturally. I do not take this gift for granted. But there is more grieving to do.

Want to write a testimonial about my services? Visit me here.

Interested in a free pay it forward reading? Visit me here.

By Kelvin Kay, en:user:kkmd [GFDL (www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/)], via Wikimedia Commons

2014 Wrap-up Challenge: Present Your Gifts

I hope to share some new material with you all soon, but in the meantime, I came across this holiday post that I hope you will enjoy.

Happy Cappy everyone 😀

litebeing chronicles

By JD Hancock from Austin, TX, United States (Merry Christmas 2010) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

Since I decided I would take whichever day was left for my blogging challenge, I kinda suspected I would get Christmas Day. Yet I figured I would wait and write my post on the day I was “given.” It is indeed Christmas Day and I am relishing the quiet while I type. This post is my present to all of you.  So in that spirit please read on…

First I want to let you in on a little secret. When I devised this challenge and created the theme, I was hoping that focusing on gratitude would lift my spirits. I was imagining that those who were called to participate would connect to form an energetic web of light that exuded grace, miracles, and blessings. As per usual, this challenge has proved to be miraculous in scope with surprises at every twist and turn. And it isn’t even finished yet!

When…

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Sick Day Summary

It has been so long since I have published anything original. Working 4 ten hour days a week ( including evenings) has left me tired or depleted energetically more often than not. I think about this blog and community often and I want you all to know you are with me every step of the way.

The way has been busy and productive but tinged with loneliness, anxiety, and dread. I am grateful to have a job I enjoy where I can see what I have helped create. Yet I feel very insecure, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am lucky to have people I can discuss my worries with, but it is not always enough. So many years of underemployment or unemployment have left me shaky and uneasy. With both transiting Pluto and Saturn trudging around my 12th house, I understand where some of this malaise is rooted. But still, it persists.

My relationship with my mother remains fractured and this saddens me, and yet, it seems to be more real. I try to balance my awareness of her advancing age with my need to let her know that we have mostly been strangers to one another throughout our entire relationship.  I work on remaining careful not to hurt her and still communicate as directly and plainly as I can. I want to be the bigger person but it is difficult when I am the bigger person all over my life. There are so few people who can comfort me and hear me and really accept me just as I am. So I strive to be that person for me. Learning to love yourself IS the greatest love of all.

I called out sick today and it was much needed. I am happy to report my body is on the mend, so my choice to stay home was a sound one. With Mercury retrograde, I still had to spend unwanted time contacting colleagues because of communication breakdowns.  I have been feeling so tired lately. The astro weather isn’t helping either. My uncle died and my boss quit his job within days of each other during this eclipse cycle.  Two different events; one natural, the other seemingly unexpected. I recently concluded my uncle was the last male relative of the generation before mine.  I did not know him well. We were not close, but he is a symbol of my childhood and he was a decent man. Uranus most likely messed with his Taurus sun, but he lived a long life, seemingly content.

My boss is one of the nicest supervisors I have ever worked with. Spoiler alert: when I am fortunate enough to get a great boss, they usual resign shortly after I am hired. He stayed for almost 6 months of my tenure and that is a record. He is a double Pisces, so of course, we got along. He has his faults, but he is so good with people, so kind, and so caring. A real lightworker. I did not see his resignation coming, but here it is. I have a history of scary supervisors replacing the nice ones, but I can rewrite this old narrative. In fact, I already have: ” I have learned so much about this new job setting and mastered so many new tasks while working with this person. He believes in me and is not afraid to be complimentary and recognize hard work. I saw how authority does not have to be used to gain power and control. I appreciate the time I worked with him and the impact he has made.”

I am grieving him, even while he still is working with me for a few more weeks. I assumed I would leave before he would. Oh well, I was mistaken. I do not do loss well, but over time I have been able to let go sooner and easier. This is growth. Speaking of loss, I have had a few dreams lately featuring my first cat Jasmine. I have no digital pictures of her to post, but I can describe her as a petite calico with green eyes. She was gorgeous and independent and aloof. But she was my first baby and I adopted her at about 7 weeks old. She lived with me for 16 years. Dexter was bigger than life, but Jasmine taught me about how to nurture another. It is curious why she is emerging in dreamtime, but it is cool to see her again happy and thriving.

This catchup post is a hodgepodge of topics, quickly assembled from the recesses of my mind and heart, but it feels liberating to share my ramblings with you on this cooler than usual July evening. So much remains uncertain, but one idea rings true: service with passion equals a full heart and warm soul.

A House is Not a Home

Thanks to the magic of Google maps, I do not have to take a new image to show my childhood home. I lived here from the end of 6th grade through junior year of college. The house was white with light blue trim originally but my parents decided on a chocolate brown upgrade.

I recently learned that my mother sold our house to move into an older adult apartment community, aka retirement place where people go to die community. I know this is strong language, but I am speaking my truth. She has wanted to sell even before my dad died, over 10 years ago. I do not know if I will get the chance to see it in-person one last time before she vacates.

Here’s the thing: I spent most of my childhood in various apartments in four states from birth to age 11. I had 4 homes from 2nd through 6th grade, including going to two different schools in separate states for both 5th and 6th grades. We finally “settled down ” when I was 11 as my parents purchased this modest home in a predominantly affluent housing development. It is the only house I ever lived in, with a yard and separation from neighbors. This meant privacy and less noise ( outside of my family dramas). Why my parents could not wait for the summer to move says way more about how I was parented then anything else. My moon in Gemini in the fourth house would speak to the frequent disruptions, but damn, my dad was not in the military!

This ordinary suburban split level structure was filled with drama, kind of like Game of Thrones, but without the dragons or intriguing character arcs. It contained plenty of power plays, betrayals, and arguments. I would not call it a happy home. But a house is not a home.

I have not as of yet lived in a house as an adult. My homes have all been apartments. While my current home is fine, it is small and a bit crowded with stuff because of insufficient storage space. Maybe this is partly why I am having some difficulty letting my old house go. This is a place, mind you, that I rarely visited once I moved away. I could not wait to get out of there and told myself I would not return. My sister did live there a few years after college, but I did not.

The therapist part of me knows that I still want to ” reclaim my childhood” before letting go of the house. I have done as much inner work as I can on this. When I consider the fond memories, they are overshadowed by darkness, with one exception.

That would be the music.

My mom plays piano well and this gift was passed down from her father who learned by ear. I don’t know how he was exposed to the piano, but he did play in the silent movie theaters, so I am told. The house was warm with emotion when my mom sang and played on many an evening. She lit up completely while playing. I believe she was born to play. She says the piano is going with her to the new place.

Google maps has made it possible for me to move on even if I cannot find time for a visit before the place is packed up or occupied by the new residents. I hope they make it a house filled with love. When or if they have children ( it is a young couple), I pray they figure out how to parent them well, or well enough. Maybe then they won’t all grow up to be therapists and heal others as a way to address their unhealed parts.

I am afraid this post is coming off rather bitter, but this is not my intention. I am still figuring out why I am bothered so much by this event. I can understand why my mother wants to live among people her age and have activities and transportation at her disposal. All I know is that I feel sad and a bit confused.

I am well aware that home is inside me, at the seat of my soul. A house is a structure made up of matter, which is not solid. I don’t remember my family being that messed up until we moved in. Perhaps it had to do with my parents’ entrance into middle age and the state of the marriage. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I will continue living life the best I know how, with faith that I can find joy and peace within. And some sweet music wouldn’t hurt either.

Ode to Donna

Let’s drink a toast to Donna

who relished quality wine

she lived her life with gusto

and ended it by design

Chocolate, fine food, and cigarettes were among her vices

lung cancer is tough going even for the strong

smoking led to her untimely demise

after diagnosis , her time on Earth was not long

public domain image

A Pisces at heart, she enjoyed a relaxing bath

filled to the brim with bubbles

apparently the bubbly immersion

melted away her troubles

She was my online friend

an astrologer like no other

we both had colon issues

she doted on me like a mother

Feisty, generous, stubborn, and direct

we could have similar genes

how do you miss someone you never met

except within a dream?

This quickly put together scrappy poem is my salute to Donna, who passed away on December 8th. I knew of her years before I “met her” on Facebook as I had  bought one of her books on lunar nodes. She was a teacher, healer, astrologer, mother, friend, and organizer of a very special annual astrology conference. She was a very knowledgeable person and lectured on many topics including gemstones and astrology. Donna was also a regular speaker at the magickal Lilydale.

Donna was not always the easiest person to get along with.  The song My Way by Frank Sinatra comes to mind when I think about how she led her life. I regret that I did not have the resources to travel to meet her at a conference. I did see her in a dream and told her about it. I surmised it was a sign we would meet on this plane. She refused any treatment for the cancer and it quickly took her life. It continually amazes me how quickly beings enter and exit our sphere of existence, although I have witnessed this pattern over and over again.

We conversed often on Facebook and in private messages. We exhanged info on astrology, food, and diverticulitis. I  took an online class with her on stress and the horoscope, which was great. She was so wise about so many subjects and had traveled the globe, taking in so much of what life had to offer her. Donna was an icon, yet conducted herself as down to earth as anyone. I think the smoking did her in, when all is said and done.  She was uncompromising about living on her terms. I admire her for it, yet wish she could have stuck around longer.

How do you miss someone you never met , except within a dream?

 

Rest in peace Donna, knowing so many people loved you and that your legacy is rich and strong.

At this time of Solstice across the planet, let’s take time to appreciate the dance between dark and light, love and fear, endings and beginnings. One does not penetrate consciousness in the absence of the other in this current dimension in which we have chosen to incarnate.

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