Monday, August 8, 2016

Hawks, Poetry, a Cemetery in August

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For me, there is no death, there is only life.

Places of burial are sacred to me. They provide me with immense peace. I am at home standing upon the thin line between worlds I wholeheartedly walk into. It is natural for me to be among the living and the departed

Since May, I have been physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually weighted. I use all the tools I learned thus far in this mad, crazy, beautiful ride called life to rid myself and space of negative energies, feelings and thoughts to prevent negative actions. Holistic body healing modalities work wonders, yet sometimes they are not enough.

As a physical being, every thought, experience and action requires use of energy, my own and others. This results in the absorption of energies of thoughts, which are quite powerful; to later settle into the physical self, the body, showing up as illness or pain. This is a red flag to rid yourself of what weighs you down.

Spiritual weight I am used to. I am an ultra-extra sensitive empath, among other things, so I kind of have no choice in that matter and accept spiritual matters humbly and with reverence. This is climbing up another rung of the ladder, learning new things about self and others, about shadow and light, discarding head-trash, fully accepting those I love, those I lost, loving the child within me and the woman I have grown to become. Preparing myself for the woman I am growing into. These weights I do not mind. They are necessary to a seeking soul.

Emotional and mental fatigue is disabling. Once negative thoughts and/or energy embeds itself within the physical body, and it does, for everyone, with or without consent, illness sets in. Illness can range from being distracted and crabby to outright disease. This begins in the mind. Things you tell yourself, the way others treat you, how you accept that treatment, the way you treat yourself, what you choose to allow and do not allow with self and others.

Boundaries are crucial
. I have strict boundaries. Apparently, I like to play jump rope with my own boundaries. I mean hey, it is life and life is meant to be experienced but suffering is not part of the deal. Not this kind of suffering. This kind of suffering I am able to control with my mindset.

This is why, this day, is surreal.

Upon waking, I wished to get down to the water, my ultimate grounder. Instead, driving to the lake, I was diverted by a cemetery. I have never been on this land. A few days ago, driving past this cemetery, the need to go there was so intense it felt like magnets pulling me there.

I drive and stop where I am told to stop. I pull to the side of the grass and walk. There are a lot of Celtic crosses, artwork and design. This is my ancestry, part of it. Immediately, I take photos. The carvings, the messages, enthrall me and the time people took to pay homage to those they loved.

Artists created statues of angels and birds, of intricate scrolls and mandalas. I am blown away. I keep walking and kneel before a most divine angel.  I take several shots of her wings, her face, and her gentle outstretched palms in supplication. I turn to see Mother Mary, humble with her head down, palms out. I keep walking and see row upon row of trees.

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Wandering around, I find rocks, feathers and pine cones. I crouch down low and listen to the birds singing -  drowning out the crows that attempt to add dissent to the chorus. The wind blows my hair around my face and I am fully awake and alive staring up and into trees. I place my palms lightly upon bark as I pass by each tree and find an accepting tree to place my spine against. I look to my right and stare up and down row upon row of intrinsic artwork, ages of lives and love carved into stone and marble.

Kneeling down in reverence and awe to those before me on this strange Earth, I know now why I have been guided to this healing place.

I find absolute refuge beneath a huge pine tree in the shade. I sit cross-legged in the grass, place both palms upon the tree, and ask, what do I need to do?

Immediately, I am answered.

Several things are answered, pleasing answers to issues that plague my mind and soul. I smile and move on and see a single tree far in the distance. I have no desire to walk to this tree because it sits in the blazing sun, yet I go, my legs decide for me. I walk around and around the tree in wonder and I am always "looking up" and when I look down, there are three feathers, barred, black, brown, white, tall and thin. Cooper's Hawk I believe. Strong medicine.

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Overcome with gratefulness for the significance of the feathers, for this is exact, necessary and on purpose, I look to my left, see a multicolored rock glinting in the sun with minerals, and place that in my palm. It feels good and right there.

There are no coincidences

Wandering back to my shelter, the pine, I sit and listen to birds and wind, to the beauty of nature, to existence itself rumbling within and around me. Freely, open and accepting of all that is, I know I am in another world, standing and praying on holy ground.

All of my angst and worry leaves me.

The night before, I wrote a poem about existence. The birds above me sing divinely and I record that poem as I walk up and down row upon row of life. My hair whips in the wind, nature is alive and on fire and the spirits of those around me guide and teach me. They tell me to keep going and that everything is fine. They tell me that I am loved and watched over. They tell me not to worry so much. They tell me that life, my dear soul, life is good.

This is what I shared with them and what I share here, with you:

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