Samain and the Shadow Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Sadness. Shadow at Natalie’s. Snow yesterday. Resilience. Hard times*. Grief. Missing my dog. Weak. Mountains. Appalachians. Blue Ridge. The Piedmont. Wasatch. Sierra. Cascades. Wind River Range. The Rockies. Tectonic Plates. Subduction. Orogeny. Basalt. Gneiss. Granite. Shadow Mountain. Shadow’s Mountain.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Chesed

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei    Shadow, my Wu Wei mistress

Week Kavannah: Malchut     Wonder.   A feeling of surprise mixed with admiration caused by something beautiful or unexpected.

Being a metaPhysician

One brief shining: Guess it shouldn’t have surprised me, but there it was, clutching my heart; she left up the steps on a yellow leash and vanished from my sight, my Shadow, gone as surely as if Clouds had obscured Great Sol’s light, yet paradoxically a shadow remained, making my inner light a chiaroscuro occasioned by a strange mix of hope and grief.

Gotta admit I’ve handled hard times better. I thought. Where’s my resilience? Ironically the topic for the Ancient Brothers this morning. Even more irony? It’s my topic.

Not feeling so resilient. And yet. I recognize this sadness, this listlessness. It’s grief. Some of it retrograde from agreeing with Kate’s choice. Some of it from watching Kepler struggle up the same stairs with the help of Mia and the home vet on his way to euthanasia. Most of it from watching my little Shadow leave. Even though. Even though I knew she was coming back.

I had been ready, no, not ready, but seeing the loving thing might be, probably was, to let her go. Too much like Kate. Too much. And I tried. I offered her to Dr. Josy who put this new plan in motion, bless her. She and Natalie have been so kind. Chesed, loving kindness. Not Jewish alone, a Hebrew word for human compassion. You know it when you feel it.

This morning, right now as I write this, my heart once again feels a bit flayed, a bit constricted, yet there’s also a wiggle, maybe a tail wagging?

My resilience runs through this valley, one where I can’t make  out the valley’s forested and rocky walls, where my energy dissipates at even the thought of moving forward, where tears flow.

Then, slow slow dragging steps. Not yet for me. Not right now, but I take those steps, I will take those steps. I know I will because I have. In having taken them before I know I can and will take them now.

Not today though, because not enough tears. Not enough.

When I spent some time indulging my Civil War interests, I bought a CD of Civil War songs for a road trip to Vicksburg. This one came up for me this morning, a plea, a prayer, a hope no one has the right to expect. And yet…

*Chorus:
‘Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,
Hard Times, hard times, come again no more.
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;
Oh! Hard times come again no more

;