The Shiva Card

Beltane and the Beltane Moon

art@willwordsworth

Thursday gratefuls: A productive day. Talking to Diane. Learning lines. Reading Overstory. Working out. Writing ancientrails. Doing my life review. Nap. Tidying up. Texas. Guns. Democracy. The military. Joe and Seoah. Thought. The Blasted Oak. The Sun. The Moon. Mother Earth. Deciding our own fate. Owning our feelings. Death.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Acting

Tarot: #16, the Blasted Oak

The Shiva card. Destruction and creation. Burning away the past so the new can arise from the ashes. The volcano creating new land. A forest arising from wildfire. New life following a death. The pain of separation and loss transformed into healing, rejuvenation. Democracy threatened so it can be reborn for a new era. My analysis.

 

Among my many religious allegiances I worship Shiva. As much as I worship anything. No puja. No incense or offering of flowers and fruit. My heart allegiance to the universe as it creates and destroys, builds up and tears down, flowers and decays. I love the image of Shiva nataraja, Shiva as the lord of the cosmic dance of creation and destruction. He dances on a figure representing ignorance and negative forces in the universe. Life, then death, then life. On and on and on.

As one door burns another swings open.

The Boot Lake Scientific and Natural Area near Carlos Avery Wildlife Refuge in Anoka County. Where my brother Tree grew, his children arrayed in a circle around him. A White Pine with a crooked trunk, not useful for the logger, ignored by the timber cruisers. Left there, alone after a long ago clear cut.

Near him fallen Trees, trunks rotted. And teaming with life. Fungus. Lichen. Insects of all sorts. The occasional Squirrel or other small Mammal. The dead tree living. Not only returning its elements to the natural cycle, but creating habitat, then humus. The rich soil of the forest floor.

The huge fallen Ponderosa at Maxwell Creek. Newly downed. Roots still moist though now exposed to the air and sunlight. A massive branch split off, white wood where the injury occurred. Life now over. Its time of decay only starting. A process as rich as life. As necessary. As welcome by the Forest.

Those Elms I had to fell in Andover. Dutch Elm disease. Burned. Even then. The ash good fertilizer. The warmth of the fire. Their death lessening the likelihood of spreading contagion.

The Lodgepoles on our property. Awaiting the unthinkable. The Fire. It would release Seeds from their Cones, like the Jack Pines of Minnesota.

Kate dies. Max is born. A new and different life for me.

A member of the family walled off. A happier life for both of us. If only.

 

 

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