Open your arms and embrace the rain

Hey, everyone.

I said in my last blog post that things have been a little bumpy 'round these parts. In the last nine days, my horse Asena has passed away (the brown gal with daisies in her mouth), my hopes for a love that I'd been holding onto for months were swiftly dashed, and my father got into a car accident (he's okay, blessedly, though his wee pea pod of a car is finished).

I'm beginning to realize that part of life is learning to let the wind push you this way and that, but to still keep your feet. So, I see the positives of all these seemingly negative events. For these things to have happened, believe it or not, is a gift. I don't regret any even the smallest bit. No, no, no. And isn't that the way all facets of life are are? There is always a dark side to the light; you can't have one without the other.

Death is all around us, if we look. It's there in the mouldering leaves at our feet. Its there in the single bird wing framed by a smear of blood on the porch-- remnants of what was surely the cat's first breakfast. It's there even in the almond tree. It weeps sap from wounds bored into its tender flesh, holes created by the cutting mouths of larvae. I see it there in the scarred Earth that has opened up to embrace one more sleeping body.

And yet, there is life. The leaves become the black soil from which springs ineffable green. The birds watch Alice warily, all whilst planning their nests and eggs to come. Even as the almond cries, it produces a spray of sugar flowers. The grateful ground sighs a "thank you" as she transforms flesh to roots and stalk, bones to flowers.

Don't understand me wrong. Death is simply change, and thus doesn't always represent the extinguishment of physical life. A positive shift has occurred in my family in the last week. Change.

We may weep for those whom we cannot reclaim, though they may have passed peacefully and without pain. There's no shame in feeling sadness because things aren't what you had hoped. It's okay to bite our lips and feel fear of the unknown. It's okay. We're human. Feeling keenly is how we know we're alive. Or how I know, at any rate.

So when Life catches you out in the rain, know that it's not always so bad. You'll dry.

"Moccasin Flowers"

by Mary Oliver

“All my life,

so far,

I have loved

more than one thing,

including the mossy hooves

of dreams, including'

the spongy litter

under the tall trees.

In spring

the moccasin flowers

reach for the crackling

lick of the sun

and burn down. Sometimes,

in the shadows,

I see the hazy eyes,

the lamb-lips

of oblivion,

its deep drowse,

and I can imagine a new nothing

in the universe,

the matted leaves splitting

open, revealing

the black planks

of the stairs.

But all my life--sofar--

I have loved best

how the flowers rise

and open, how

the pink lungs of their bodies

enter the fore of the world

and stand there shining

and willing--the one

thing they can do before

they shuffle forward

into the floor of darkness, they

become the trees.”

So much love to you all, and wishing you flowers, love, sweet chickens, and mini-tiger kisses.