adrift

while i write to uncover and release the ponderings and longings of my own soul, i also hope to hear the stirrings of yours.

so, how are you? how is summer singing or whispering or languishing in you?

it has been good to follow a friend’s holy wild west adventure on facebook, to experience alongside her the hope and the wonderment. in one of her recent posts she writes:

“Prayers say themselves here . . . They’re as effortless as breathing – every Ohhh, every Ahhh, every Wow is prayer! Mindfulness comes easy surrounded by the Beauty of the Black Hills. Peace and gratitude in every step. Am feeling so very free and greatful.”

as i was sharing this with my husband, her sense of freedom washed over me vicariously, alongside a little envy, which i must with awareness and honesty admit.  then i realized that, of course, i am free…. free to receive life with peace and gratitude in every step, free to oooohhh and ahhh and wow at the Beauty that surrounds always. thank you, sister, for reminding me.

of course, i’ve mentioned here previously another wise friend who recently passed, the way in which he also taught me to look for Beauty as a way of praying without cease. and so today, i will seek it.

here.

now.

pause.

pay attention.

our home has sold. we are not yet completely adrift, though the ropes of the anchor have been cut, we are still clearing the entanglements that had rooted themselves around it. what is a piece of ourselves, the severing of which would result in the loss of connection with our very hearts?  what does not need to be carried?

we have no clear sense of direction either. in reality, the direction seems to change with each change in the wind’s breath, each inhale and exhale. how unusual it is in our world to let something go, consciously, deliberately, without having something firm to grasp on the other side. to trust only that the letting go is necessary and right.

free fall.

freedom comes like this too, of course, and letting go is vital (def. life-giving). though it may be more typical for us to experience deaths happening TO us –as we go kicking and flailing and screaming into them– we so rarely choose our deaths….. or at least we are not conscious of choosing them.

sometimes i feel as if i am saying ‘yes’ to the unknown itself.

my anam cara has suggested that this time is tomb time… that sacred-of-all-sacred, 3 days, in-between time, dark and unknown. i am trying as best as i can not to grasp and flail, but to let it be what it is, to float in it, let it carry me. of course, i have the helpful imagery of the tomb as womb, watery and wise, and i trust that, and perhaps even that particular trust is a clinging– clinging to the promise of a birth like an umbilical cord clings to its own particular source of nourishment.

i read abit of cynthia bourgeault’s book, the meaning of mary magdelene, a few months back, enough to know that one of her premises is that mary accompanied jesus through that space and time in his journey, and that through their soul connection grew in spiritual wisdom in that very place because she entered it WITH him. that is how she knew to be waiting that morning at the tomb.

waiting in the morning.

i overheard two couples in conversation at a table recently. the woman was telling the other couple how this second marriage of hers, after a long first marriage that ended in the death of her spouse, felt like it extended her very life somehow. a brand new beginning, a new adventure, new learnings all awaited her.

life…. death …. life

i don’t know exactly how this fits the season, but it is the season i am in. being empty without fear is the challenge. not reacting (out of fear of loss) but trusting the sacred, the soul’s wisdom, Love. that is easier to do some days than others, especially when others around me are lashing and thrashing, and i feel the tug of that pulling me under.

imagine me, if you will, swimming strongly, or floating gracefully, held aloft by the same salt water that fills my very cells, being carried. perhaps that is a summer image then.

yes.

all is well,

vicki

ps. i’d love to hear where summer is carrying you. your stories are vital companions to me on the way.

Aside

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Anuscka
    Jul 17, 2012 @ 05:00:36

    dear vicki (or emma), as english isn’t my native speak, i can’t use words as poetic and strong as you do. love the way you write, ponder, en share your life. just stumbled upon you a few weeks ago (don’t remember what i was looking for, is not important). seems you are on a similar road as i am now: searching for the true meaning of my life. letting go of lots of things (material, but also thoughts and feelings) that don’t belong to me anymore. so i can’t agree with you more: letting go is neccesary and right. my sabbatical (tomb/womb)time appears in the shape of the caterpillar: my blog. some day a butterfly will wake up….

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  2. Anonymous
    Jul 17, 2012 @ 17:05:27

    Hi Vicki, I too feel adrift! Thank you for sharing your writing today. I hope you find a gentle place to land after selling your house. It must be hard to leave, after all you have invested emotionally in it, especially your beautiful garden!

    This summer I have to learn to let my son, just graduated, fly free… amazed at his growth, hoping for a good place to land, stretching out and trying his gifts… afraid of what he’ll see in the big wide world, but knowing he wants to experience it too.

    We are facing my husband’s uncertain health, doing well today but afraid of its return, learning to live without the kids, the reason for our existence for so long! I’m getting ‘sold’ to another company after a long and stable job, to be working for God knows who, but just glad to be working…

    At the same time, I feel like I have graduated too, and am anxious and excited to capture that person I was 23 years ago before I undertook that full time job of parenting. I have treasured every moment, but am anxious to grasp the choices I had to leave behind for the stability of others. What will I find now, what will I do, what new beginnings will I find, and I’m anxious for it all…. And in the uncertainty, learning to treasure each moment of life and make it the best that I can (keeping my anxiety at bay!) Its a choice, I think, though I can/’t control any of it.

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