Monday, June 28, 2010

Moving Pictures

As I was packing to move, I found a package of pictures my Dad took about 6 or 7 years ago when he came out to visit. There were some fine pictures of nature, a really wonderful one of my Dad, some of his sister Wanda, and one lovely one of Misty.

Each of these were precious. Wanda was close to death at the time, so these last pictures of her are special. The picture of my Dad reveals his soul in a way I had never seen before. And the picture of Misty is cherished because she died some years ago, and I have few pictures of her. She didn't like posing.

All of my animal friends are dear to me, yet Misty was the closest to my heart. She had a Pisces moon quite close to my own, for one thing. For another, she had been hit by a car and her right hind leg was smashed. She hobbled the length of a football field to get to me. Luckily, my housemate was a night owl and went out the door and found her. The vet was able to piece the leg back together, but it wasn't until years later when she was attuned to Reiki that she healed her leg. At the end she was running flat out, something she had not been able to do for most of her life.

Misty did everything flat out. She didn't know the meaning of moderation, except in her diet. She ate only what she needed, and stayed slender her whole life. At the end, she was truly thin because of a hyperthyroid condition. She did love her mice and the raw food diet I discovered in her last years.

Misty died the way she lived - on her own terms. She called in a raccoon, or maybe several. I know that partly because Misty told me and partly because she was so fiercely glad that her body provided food for another creature.

For almost two years after she died I cried every evening. Misty would come and lick my face when she was alive. After she died, she would come and ask why I was crying. She certainly wasn't traumatized by death. It was another grand adventure. She seldom comes to visit anymore. I am occupied and I suspect she is too.

However, Misty, Samantha (the cat who taught me to listen to animals) and Coco (an Aussie/Blue Heeler mix who spent her last years with me) asked to come back to me. It might just be soon!

Monday, June 21, 2010

The Bee

As I said last week, I am looking for a home for my Dad and I. I was out looking for a specific home for sale - didn't find it. Frustrated, I stopped at a gas station to get directions. I reached for my bag and saw a lone bee wandering around on top of it.

Once upon a time I kept bees, and got some marvelous honey out of the deal. So I know that a lone bee is lost without its hive. I didn't know when or where this particular bee got into my car. A bee can fly at least a mile, but not a lot more than that. With no way to tell this one's home, I decided to put it out on the grass. Unfortunately, it probably died an early death (even though their lives are pretty short anyway).

Then I got to thinking. Was this another signpost for me from Nature? Bees are about community above all. They are industrious, and create sweetness. At this point I am so tired and frustrated in the search for a property my Dad and I could love that is also within our means and we can move into at the end of this month. The industrious I have already been doing, so bring on the sweetness!

Community is not foreign to me. I have lived in several intentional communities, and currently am one of the leaders in a spiritual community. My community is supporting me in a number of different ways already. Is there something more, something specific?

Perhaps I will be living in community again. Who knows? Stay tuned for the rest of the story.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Beauty of the Vulture

My Dad and I are buying a house. Dad is vigorous for 82 years on the planet. He plans on fishing and maybe getting a part-time job. I am nearly finished writing a book, and will be working on getting it published.

The process of buying a house is new to me, and yesterday I was down in the dumps. A dear friend took me for a drive in the country, which was lovely. We went some places in the county where I had never been. I learned that Lake Whatcom is HUGE! We stopped on the way at a country store - lots of different things for sale. I bought some baby brussel sprout plants. We shared some espresso chip ice cream.

And the icing on the cake was watching a gorgeous turkey vulture swooping back and forth over the large mowed grassy area across the road. It was really quite stunning and beautiful. And then the vulture flew off.

Now many people think vultures are not beautiful. Some people think they are dirty. What is real is these scavengers play an extremely valuable and necessary function, preventing the spread of disease and keeping the environment clean.

So when I got home, I checked out Ted Andrews view of vultures in “Animal Speak.”

In alchemy, the vulture was a symbol of sublimation, particularly because of its resemblance to the eagle. The vulture was considered a sign of confirmation of a new relationship between the volatile aspects of life and the fixed, the psychic energies and the cosmic forces. It was a promise that the suffering of the immediate was temporary and necessary for a higher purpose was at work, even if not understood at the time. It reflects that no matter how difficult the life conditions, rescue is as imminent in your life as was the rescue of Prometheus by Hercules.

This fit so well - I had been stressed and the beauty of the vulture in flight was restorative. Today, I spoke with the realtor, who is doing her job perfectly. I know that very soon we will have a wonderful place to live.