Tag Archives: Loss

Lughnasadh 2019

Lughnasadh is my favorite holiday, in spite of the spelling challenges it presents. I love this retrospective aspect to it, this kind of leaning on the plow and looking at the fields (“Behold, my field of fucks, and see that it is barren!”) and the work of the year. This is the closest I come to really evaluating how far I’ve come…I really only do this once a year. If my therapist doesn’t make me go deeper, I never really do. I’m too busy moving forward to stand too long and really evaluate it. Mostly, I just look at the year.

First Harvest is your opportunity to Back Out Now Before It’s Too Late. (Not that it’s ever too late. It’s never too late to stop dead and start over.) It’s the opportunity to say, “How much energy am I really putting into this thing? And how much of a harvest am I going to get out of it? What kind of direction is this thing going in?” And This Thing might be a relationship, a job, a hobby, a particular piece of art, it could be anything.

My family has moved many, many times. I stopped counting after the thirteenth move, and I feel like, where most people see stress in moving, I see new opportunities, new people to meet, new places to discover. I don’t mind moving so much.

Or moving on.

One of the advantages of having that lifestyle is that, when you get tired of shit, you just go. Leaving is easy, so much easier than actually sticking it out and working it out. So new job, new friends, new house, new life….whatever. It’s doable. It’s doable at any time.

One of the things I love about Lughnasadh nowadays is the stability I feel. I don’t need to move so much anymore. I don’t need to lose friends and make new ones…my current friends are damned fine people, beautiful people in fact, who are loving and kind and caring and funny and smart, and who don’t take joy in the pain of other people. I like these people. I sometimes worry about adding more, I feel like I don’t spend enough time with any of them, like there’s not enough Me to go around. But when I look at this particular harvest I am amazed with how little effort it takes to receive so much love. I mean, literally, I can just say, “I’m having a hard time today, can I have some extra love?” and they give, give, give in so many ways. This is a good harvest.

My shamanic training is also harvesting well. I wish I could explain it to you, but it’s all too freaky to feel comfortable putting into words. But it brings me joy, and new people to help, and they get really helped by it, not even a little bit. Amazing things happen and I see it evolving. I am grateful as my shamanic vision increases (I’m starting to see things now, so that’s new) and the voices of my ancestors are really clear about doing this thing and not the other thing. It’s such a great place to be.

My job is awesome. A new executive director is coming in and, would you believe it? He’s a gamer! He’s actually made a Call of Cthulu reference! Go figure! And he’s really nice too, and tech savvy, so this should be fun. I didn’t do the work for that particular harvest, other than landing the job and continually doing it, but that counts. I’m grateful.

My marriage kicks ass. For all our difficult conversations, I feel heard and valued. We work together to solve our problems, and it all falls together. I feel supported and loved.

This is a good harvest. Maybe I feel that way because I try to walk the talk as much as possible, and walking that talk brings me to this place. Living my integrity and my truth brings me to the place of balance and peace. I don’t know. But I feel this year I have planted really well. The fruits popping their way out of the soil are the juiciest and sweetest yet.

If your harvests are not bringing you joy, this is your chance. This is where you choose one of three courses of action.

– you back out now and give up on the things that aren’t flowering
– you pay a little closer attention to the things that aren’t flowering and give them a little more energy
– you invest your energy in the things that aren’t flowering, instead of the things that are

Choose wisely. Winter comes for all of us, and you will need things to sustain you. If you evaluate honestly at Lughnasadh, your winter will be easier. There’s a second harvest before the third. You don’t have to cut things dead now if you don’t want to…but you should know the choices that you are making. You should know that you are breathing life into things that may never draw breath. There is nothing wrong with making that choice, nothing at all….but you should be honest with yourself when you make it. The results should not take you by surprise.

I love this holiday because I love the fairness of it. I love how I choose my destiny at this time. I love how the choices I make now have the potential to bring me more joy in the future. I love how my perennials bloom every year with hardly any maintenance at all. I love how I weed every day of the year, so there are no big jobs to plague me at this time. I love the way the coolness of the day starts at sunset, and how watching the sun go down is so relaxing when I know all the hard work is done. I can really rest. My life is really good and I love it.

My wish for you this Lughnasadh is Clear Sight. I wish that you look on your fields with a clear eye and see what is growing and what is not. I wish that you throw your energy into the things that bring you joy, and that you stop tending the things that bring you sorrow. I wish that you see the things that are already dead, and that you also see the things that only need a little more attention to thrive, and that you do not confuse the two.

I wish that you count your Self among your harvests, and that you are pleased with what you see.

I wish the best for you. I wish for your growth, and for your future. I wish for your contentment and peace.

So mote it be.

Leviathan

A rowboat in the ocean
So lost you are
So beautiful, so lost, content in silence, the rhythmic waves
Rising, Falling
Rising, Falling
Not even sure what you’re looking for
Just knowing currents and tides will bring you comfort
Line over the side, not fishing, not quite
……More like playing absentmindedly
……More like hands twitching as you fall asleep
……More like wondering what creatures live below the surface
Never expecting to see
Sure that the sight is meant for more important eyes than yours.

There is none more important than You.

Or you. Or I.
Or them. Or us. Or we.

None more important than the ones in that boat
None more important than those who half believe
Than those who sleep their way through life
That half-believe that life could be better
……Or bigger. Or faster. Or more.
……But that life happens to Other People
People more worthy, more strong,
People in books, in faery tales, in song, in legend.
Hands twitching as you sleep
Boat rising higher than it should be
Pushed by something underneath
Something not quite cresting
An unseen force that raises you higher than before
And in your dreams you remember
That once you were someone who searched
That once you were someone who dreamed and desired
That once you believed that there were dragons at the edge of the world…

It’s not the bait on your innocent line that has piqued my interest.

I hear sounds in your sleep
The sounds you used to listen for
The dreams you used to have
The things you used to search for
The You that you’ve forgotten

It echoes inside of me like the sound of a drip in a silent cavern
Echoing my stillness
Echoing my forgottenness
Calling me to your side like rhythm
……Like thunder and rain
……Like the sound of water on leaves
……Like the sound of the serpent in the grass
Like the scent of summer
Yes, you are dreaming,
But make no mistake, you have called me.

You are so innocently unaware of what you’ve done
And even that is delicious
Still sleeping, echoing dreams
I could vanish in a moment and you would never know I was there
Never know how close I was
Never know how I watched you as you slept
……Never know that it’s not your dreams that called me
……But the way you’ve put them away.
The way I’ve put them away.
The way we all, sooner or later,
Put them away.

So I must choose,
do I slip beneath these waves in silence
……Never waking you
……Never letting you see
Never
It is perhaps
The better choice
To not wake up these things in myself
To not view the dreams I’ve given up in the harsh light of day

Oh but the sound of you is so sweet
You are savory in my brain
Like the scent of a good stew
……With notes of Lemongrass
Exotic, like heavy bass
……With overtones of Bhangra
Like things I’ve never tasted or smelled
……Sandalwood and Rose
……Or street food in South America
……The feel of satin and leather

I am a force of nature
Uncontrollable
I get off this ride where I want to
And I’m not sure if I do.
But you are a tasty morsel, to be sure,
And no one contains me without my permission.
I am not to be contained.
Like Leviathan, I am not for owning
……I am for experiencing
………For reminding you of your mortality
………For showing you gaping jaws that remind you
………How good it is to be alive
………How good your life is in this world

How you should not be sleeping.

I’ve come to wake up the Strongest of Dreamers.
and I am only slightly surprised by your blurry edges
by the way your tiny human hand squeezes the smallest of my pods
……like an infant and a finger
the way you turn in your sleep like a plant toward sunlight
reaching towards what you have not seen, but you remember.

Who made you so small, love?
What made you put your dreams away?
How have you forgotten the songs of our tribe?
How have you forgotten what you are?
This will feel like disaster, I know.
And I am so sorry, but you called me here
You dangled this line
You called in your sleep
……You don’t know it but you called for rescue
……and you have no idea that this has nothing to do with me,
that the only one who can rescue you
is You.

I am what I am
……and what I am is too large for that boat.

It’s an accident, I swear, the leaks and crackings
But it’s a consequence of getting too close.
Your world is about to turn upside down
and you are due for the rudest of awakenings.
I am about to do you a huge favor

My presence and my leaving will smash that boat
And if you open your eyes
it will set you free.