Guest Post: To Be Loved Is to Be Given Life

Today I'm featuring a guest post written by none other than my mother, Cecilia Skidmore: licensed counselor, grief and change expert, former radio host, and MBTI administrator (to say very little!). To read a bit more about her click here, and to view her blog click here.

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"TO BE LOVED IS TO BE GIVEN LIFE" - those words were written years ago by the artist wife of my minister and he used them as a Christmas card the year following her death. To be loved is to be given life -odd words for a memorial for someone who has died. What does that mean? Given life...

In our society, in relatively recent times, we avoid mention of death. We left the armbands behind, left the wakes held at home behind, left the formal mourning periods behind. Death is a spectre, just like on Halloween, hovering in the shadows of our homes, our lives, our minds, and we use a great deal of energy trying to find a way to shut the door on those shadows and seal them off forever.
When our childrens' pets die, we buy another. The illusion is that life is replaceable, that pain can be erased in the blink of an eye with a new puppy. When our parents die, we keep our children home from the funeral. We keep our tears and pain inside, so that they (and we) won't have to experience that so uncomfortable emotion, despair. It feels so out of control and so intense that we fear we might frighten the children. So, while we can't replace Grandma with a new puppy, we can act as if it's ok that she died. We might even pretend she's "away" or "asleep," common euphemisms for the word "dead." We can not talk about her; we can fill the space she had in our lives and in our homes with other people or more work - or a new car. Or a new love. The hole is not only a physical one (she's not in that chair anymore) but a spiritual one and a psychological one- and we race around desperately trying to fill it with everything and anything except the few things we really need.

Golden Tarot - L. Dean

We need a light to shine on those dark spaces in our psyches where death lurks. We need to look death square in the face--and when we do, we find that death looks very familiar. It looks like us. It looks like our loves and our hopes, but also like our failures and lost dreams. It looks final, though - like we don't get another chance. Perhaps that scares us the most. And perhaps it should. We need to say and do important things now - not after they are no longer here.

We need education. Sit with someone who is dying, as I have done at Hospice. When you spend time with a dying person, you find they are Person first. Not a spectre. They live, often better than before. They find great pleasure in people, in children, in animals. They still find joy in reading, in smelling fresh cut grass, in watching the birds on a snow-covered pine. They are thoughtful and less concerned with things tangible - like money or possessions, except as a legacy they might be leaving a loved one. But they are very real, very human - very alive.

5 of Water - Gaian Tarot
Joanna Powell Colbert

We need to ponder what comes after death. (I firmly believe in reincarnation until someone I love dies - then the thought of them embarking on a new life when I've just arrived in Heaven seems so sad - so I revert to the safety of clouds and harps.) We need to read books, talk about it with friends, and weigh what we learn. A firm belief in something greater than ourselves, or a firm belief in the natural cycles of life and death on earth can be comforting.

We need to learn about grieving as well. It helps to have a belief about life beyond death - but usually that's not our biggest concern when a loved one dies. An incredible amount of the pain of grieving comes not from worry about where they are, but from the fact that they are not here with us. Grief can be an emotional, psychological and physical maelstrom. So much is unanticipated, unexpected. We experience a gnawing in our guts, a weariness in our bones, a breaking of our hearts. When my mother died, some thirty years ago, I wrote a poem:

"This morning when I woke up, I found my heart had been ripped from my body....What I want to know is... why am I still alive?"

We become forgetful, losing moments, hours, names, faces, appointments. We see things: the look of our beloved on a stranger in the hardware store - or visions that are so real, but impossible to explain.

We hear voices - or we are visited in our dreams.

We remember and remember and remember - with others, on paper, in our daydreams and our night dreams. We relive so many moments, trying to keep them alive and here with us. We are so afraid to forget.

Vision Quest Tarot

And people, other loving, fearful people try to push us forward, to get us (and themselves) away from the pain. So gradually we have our lost loved ones in our lives (so it doesn't hurt) and we gradually talk less about our beloved - so it doesn't hurt. But the hurt comes from a deep would and deep wounds take a long time to heal.

So we need to know about grieving and how long it will take. Hiding from the spectres of death and grieving leave us unprotected from the turmoil they bring. If we know, we can take care of our needs, learn to share our pain and not be overwhelmed. Grief happens all our lives, if not from death, then from divorce, or job loss, or moves, or aging. The grief experience is the same, and it carries compound interest from all the others before it. The more we know, the more we can help ourselves and our children.

At last we can take the time and energy to begin to understand who we are now - after.

When someone dies, they are transformed. Some faiths believe our souls go to a heaven of clouds and harps where we live happily ever after. Some believe literally that God's house has many mansions where we will all go,, and other that only they will receive everlasting life. Some believe in a seemingly endless cycle of life, learning, death and rebirth until we reach oneness with God. People who don't believe in a God or afterlife acknowledge that at least the body becomes part of the earth again, fertilizer, renewing other life.

The reality is, when someone dies, they are transformed - whatever you pay attention to.

Earthbound Oracle

But so are we - we who are left behind. The person we were when our beloved was alive changes - in sometimes very subtle, sometimes profound ways - always viscerally. So when the time for mourning and grieving has passed, when we awake to a new morning, free of the deep pain, we are newborn.

We are a fresh creation.

But we have not left our beloved behind. We have not forgotten. If death is like a shedding of our outer skin, a metamorphosis, grieving and healing from grief is like communion - an absorption into our living flesh, our changing psyche, our evolving spirit - of the essence of our beloved.

It's hard to understand - ask someone who has grieved. Those parts we thought were gone forever have now become part of us. And with that transplant comes a new human being - broken, but stronger at the broken places, as Hemingway said. Malleable, but firm, solid and real, but transcendent. All those cliches about dawn after darkness, spring following winter - are real, true.

They are true because love and grief are inextricably bound. We don't grieve what we never loved. We grieve only those things or people who have enriched our lives and given it meaning. When we love deeply, we grieve deeply. But we do not forget. And in our remembering we keep our loved one alive.

To be loved is to be given life.

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Ashé

Just Do You

Yesterday marked the first day of September, which comes as a great relief to me. The heat and humidity of the summertime tend to feel oppressive by August, and saying goodbye to that final, full month of the hot season is rather pleasant (though in reality the changes in overall weather from August to September are so subtle they're almost non-existent, so my relief is more psychological than anything!).

This morning, instead of a daily draw, I decided to pull a card asking, "What strengths should I develop during the month of September?" In the end one card turned into three, and the message felt right for this point in my life:

3 of Cups reversed - Lovers - Explorer (Knight) of Earth

Gaian Tarot; J. Powell-Colbert

I tend to see myself as a confident and laid-back, open-minded person, but that doesn't mean I don't suffer from the occasional insecurities. For instance, as I develop and grow, I like to write about my experiences. It feels good to express myself, though sometimes I worry that some people won't like, or understand, or connect with my words or point of view. I want to pat myself on the shoulder, sigh, and say, "That's life, mi amor!" Really, I do know how unrealistic it is to hope that the entire planet will be receptive to my thoughts and ideas (especially considering only an atom-sized percentage of the world's population even read my posts!). But by worrying about those who might not "feel me" I'm allowing some of my capacity for joy and free-expression to seep away, and that is not the route I wish to take. 

The Lovers reminds me that all I can and must do is me. Just do me. I have to be true to my reality, my experiences, and my voice (which in fact coincides with my card of the week via FB: Knight of Swords!). I read an article the other day about a married Catholic priest (he converted to Catholicism after marrying and having kids, and he was already an Episcopal priest prior to that). It was certainly an interesting read, but what stuck out to me was the way the man described the differences in expression between the two faiths. As an Episcopal priest he experienced and witnessed quite a lot of pressure on the priesthood to say what people wanted to hear rather than what the priests felt it was important to discuss, because the lay people of the church "held the purse strings." If they didn't like a priest or a priest's perspectives, they could restrict programming or simply rally together and boot the priest from the church altogether. In the Catholic church priests are appointed to parishes and have a measure of security in their position that allows them to explore concepts and ideas that feel important without the pressure of conforming to popular opinion. This was a relief for him because as a married priest, he would obviously be likely to face scrutiny and displeasure from some parishioners. Religious trappings aside, the core of the message is clear and resonates with me in certain, important ways. 

The Explorer of Earth reminds me that this is my path, my journey, and the way that it manifests in the physical world will be unique to who I am. The woman on this card tends to the natural environment. She thinks she is alone, but in the background the spirit of a stag stands watching over her. Perhaps this is her guide, a sign that even when she feels alone, she is always in close company. Perhaps it's a reminder that while her offerings may seem insignificant in the broad scope of the universe, it does mean something to someone, somewhere; above all, it means something to her. Her way may be slow, but her work is measured and steady; she is making an impact, even if in small and quiet ways.

So my September message is: get over it, Olivia, and just. do. you. Stop worrying, and start enjoying. Be an otter in the river, love yourself as you are, and keep plodding along.

I think I can find a way to handle that!

Litha Blog Hop: Joy and Shadows

Previous/Master/Next

It's somehow ironic that, being the wrangler for this particular hop (which entails choosing the theme), I would experience writer's block, but that's just what happened between Beltane and Litha. I knew I wanted the focus to be "joy" because we spend so much time focused on what we can improve, or what needs tweaking, and not nearly enough time really basking in the glory of the joy that threads through our lives (at least that's how it often seems!). I'm a joy-person (not THE Joy Person - that's Arwen Lynch Poe!) and this is Litha, The Sun Celebration, so it all seemed very fitting!

New Orleans Voodoo Tarot
The divine light and joy within us!

So writer's block had me down, and then I found myself at the public library one evening with the three Joys of my life - my children!  As the little ones were climbing and arguing their way through the aisles with me, I happened across the Tarot for Life book by Paul Quinn, which I'd never seen before - neither at the library nor any other place that sells or rents books - (and after looking at its positive reviews on Amazon I realize I'm a late-comer to that game, and that it's completely crazy that I'm so in-the-dark) so I snatched it off the shelf. After settling the kids in the children's section with books and blocks and crayons, I myself settled down to give the book a cursory sifting. It took about 1.3 seconds for me to realize I'd found a wonderful source of Tarot wisdom, and one of the aspects of the book that most attracted me was that it covered the "shadow" aspect of cards in addition to the upright and reversed meanings. It's actually brilliant, and it resonated with my own reading experience quite potently. I've written before about cards in readings, where their upright orientation belies their true essence, and though I hadn't given it a title before, "shadow" aspects were indeed what I was encountering.

Llewellyn Publications

I happened to flip to the entry for the Sun card, and suddenly bells began to go off in my head - the shadow of the Sun! This was something I'd pondered for probably close to a year, after having calculated my Tarot birth card. I'd found that my personality card was the Wheel, my soul card was the Magician, and my Shadow card was nothing other than…the Sun! The first two made complete sense to me, but the Sun as my Shadow? I read and read and researched and thought and analyzed and considered, and nothing seemed to click in terms of what the Sun as my Shadow really meant for me.

Did it mean that joy or success were difficult for me to achieve, or that I'd spend my life always working on improving those things? Not really…..

Was it that my natural happiness wasn't accepted by my community (per Jung) leading me to try to diminish my own capacity for joy? No….

As I was flipping the pages of Tarot for Life things started to fall into place, like pieces of a puzzle. I've always been drawn to happiness like a moth to a flame, in order (perhaps) to create an environment that reflected my inner world. As a result I stayed as far from sadness as I could manage. This wasn't a conscious decision, but a visceral reaction.

I remember that I never liked melancholy music. One important memory I have from childhood is that my older sister would request that my mom sing her the song "Clementine" before she would go to bed. I hated it. I would plug my ears and bury my head in the pillow in order to avoid hearing it. I thought it was such a sad song (a miner lost his daughter when she fell into the sea and drowned!!), and I hated feeling sad. As I grew up that never really changed. I always preferred happy, vibrant music (for the most part - incidentally I've always been a big Blues fan!), I avoided any movies that highlighted pain and suffering (for the most part! - I did actually choose to watch Schindler's List because the Holocaust is something we should never forget). Sorrow was an extremely difficult emotion for me to process.

Zingdoodle Lenormand by Rootweaver

Don't get me wrong, I don't - and didn't - see the world through rose-colored glasses, nor did I shy away from difficult truths, or the bittersweetness that sometimes comes from living. Looking back it occurs to me that much of that connects with being empathic, and not knowing how not to absorb others' emotions as my own.  It makes sense then that I would have cringed at hearing Clementine - I was brought into the story, and felt the miner's pain, and the terrible sorrow of death (as funny as that may sound, as it's a children's song!). I've always felt a brilliant, joyful light shining from within me, and I wanted to just glow all the time, the full expression of my soul. And since life isn't happiness and light all of the time, my Shadow has truly been learning to face the pain and darkness that shows up from time to time along the way, and coming to understand through experience that while I still prefer being surrounded in positivity (who doesn't?), those painful times in fact provide valuable opportunities to grow, to understand myself (and others) better, and to become, ultimately, a more balanced human being. Additionally, as an empath a vital lesson is also to learn how to be supportive of others while learning how not to internalize their pain.

Ochun - Joy and Love
Image by Black Oshun Eternal

So what better time for this light of understanding to hit me than three days prior to the Litha Blog Hop, a time of Sun and Joy, a day of celebrating our fires before the gradual descent into the elongating shadows of Autumn….

To conclude, I want to bring this post back to the simple topic, so I will include a list of what brings me great joy:

-My children (as previously mentioned)
-My husband (I couldn't ask for a more supportive partner)
-Divination (as an extension of my sense of purpose and Will)
-My Joy (because it's simply joyful feeling an abundance of joy, and I'm grateful for it)
-My spiritual practices (with all the surprises, challenges, and stunning, awe-filled moments)

Go forth and be joyful, and build your Litha fires brightly!

Previous/Master/Next

5 of Water on the Last Day of School

My oldest daughter is transitioning from middle school to high school, and today is her last day of 8th grade. While she's extremely excited about being "in the big leagues" she's understandably bittersweet about leaving an entire school and social structure behind. She was giggling and dancing around the kitchen last night, noticeably anxious, and she said rather off-handedly, "Mom, do a reading for me about tomorrow!" I couldn't in that moment, but this morning I agreed to pull a card for her. Each time we ask her how she feels, and if she's sad, she says, "Well I'm really excited for next year!! But I am gonna miss my friends and teachers!" We remind her that she can see her friends over the summer, and encourage her to copy down phone numbers so they can make plans to see each other. Some of these friends will go to her new high school, but not everyone (including her big 8th grade crush, which she's particularly upset about).  So I shuffled my new Gaian Tarot, and as I went to select her card, I had one of those moments where you just *know* what the card is even before you turn it over:

5 of Water - Gaian Tarot
Joanna Powell Colbert

My daughter had wandered off down the hall, so I called to her to let her know I'd finished her draw. I showed her the card and she said "Oh my god, that's me!!" And I said "Yes - I asked 'how does Isa feel about her last day of school?' and this is what came up. Kinda perfect, don't you think?" She agreed. And moments like this are some of those that highlight how deeply grateful I am to be a card reader, because sometimes all you need is confirmation of how you're really feeling - the permission to be bummed out without being apologetic for it, or minimizing it. She smiled and we chatted a bit about her thoughts, and then she ran off to get ready for school.

This version of the 5 of Cups, or 5 of Water, is one of my favorites of all time because it's so real. There is no real symbolism in this card, apart from the gray skies. The young woman gazes across the lake or bay, solemn and withdrawn. She's holding a hot mug of steaming tea, and really sitting with - experiencing - her melancholy. We've all been there at some point or another. We don't need to see the three spilt cups to get the idea that there's sadness here, nor do we need to see two cups standing in order to understand that this feeling won't last forever. And rather than putting a silver lining on the sense of mourning by reminding ourselves that "this too shall pass," it's nice to be allowed to honor that "space," even if only for a moment.

So I wish my daughter a wonderful, comforting last day of middle school, full of hugs, laughter, and friends' numbers. May she find strength in letting go, and joy in the road ahead!

Drawing the World

It's been a long time since I've posted a daily draw, but today felt like a good day for it. It's Memorial Day and everyone's home (no work, no school). The sun is shining and it's gearing up to be a fairly hot and humid day, perfect for watching the little ones throw themselves down the long length of slip-n-slide in the back yard later. Our second radish was pulled from the ground yesterday by Isabella, and ended up in our dinner salad (what a lovely flavor!). The tomato plants are beginning to show some small blossoms, promising fruit to come soon. I mowed part of the lawn yesterday, but Jorge and I agreed to leave a patch of wildflowers along the back fence for the bees.

So with all this nurturing earth energy on my mind, it was so fitting to have drawn XXI Gaia the World, from the Gaian Tarot by Joanna Powell Colbert! She's layered many symbols in this card: Tibetan prayer flags, cleansing herbs, the butterfly, four creatures representing the four elements and directions (traditionally this depicts the four fixed astrological signs). And there is the Earth being embraced by the goddess Gaia at the heart of it all.

A card of completion, coming full circle, synthesis and integration, this card calls me to ponder what cycles in my life are reaching this stage at this moment….

This morning my youngest daughter was considering what she wanted to have for breakfast when she suddenly squealed, "It's the first day of the last week of school!!" She and my older daughter have just two short days of school left before officially beginning summer vacation, and they're so excited. My older daughter, Isabella, is finishing middle school and will be heading off to high school in just a few months. Talk about transition! It seems like yesterday that she was exhilarated to be a new sixth grader, feeling the prestige of a new label of "middle schooler," and suddenly that chapter is closing and a new, important one is on the cusp of being born. My younger daughter has had a great year in first grade, and has really adored her teacher, Ms. S. I thought it would be bittersweet for her as she brought home all of her tools and notebooks after clearing out her desk, but she's excited to be moving up to second grade. She loves school, and can't wait to see what's next.

Thus our house-cycle is coming to a close, as well. Most parents will agree that the true "New Year" is when the school year comes to an end. That's when things really change! The kids are at home every day (or at camp), so in important ways the subtle rhythms of life alter. In a few weeks' time we'll be driving our kids to their grandparents' house several states away, dropping them off to spend a month, enjoying an assortment of adventures.

The heavens are also coming full circle. Just this morning I was gazing out the kitchen window and noticed the sunlight shining through a patch of bushes along the east side of the back yard. I remember blogging about this last year, because the sun's position only allows for this to happen for a short time each year, usually right around late-May to late-June - Litha time. The sunlight seems to create a temporary door, like a portal to another dimension. It only lasts for perhaps 30 minutes, early each morning, before disappearing again, and I look forward to seeing it as I go through the motions of making my morning coffee.

Even with divination I'm experiencing a full circle. It was about this time last year that I leapt into professional reading and blogging about that journey. It's been a wonderful, rewarding year of reading for people all across the planet, exploring a wide variety of decks, jumping into Lenormand study, and joining in an international divination community which has provided endless opportunities to learn, share, and network. It's affirming that the close of this divination year should be punctuated by my experience as a guest on Christiana's Psychic Café - and that the show should air on International Tarot Day! It was almost a year ago, as well, that I joined the Tarot Blog Hop circle, and it's just now that I'm no longer "just" a participant, but a "wrangler" as well, for this June's Litha hop.

Finally, it's been a year of unexpected and important spiritual growth and awakening for me. I'm not a Wicca practitioner (though I suppose I practice some sort of "craft") but when I dove so intently and intentionally back into my spiritual practice last year, I held in my mind and heart the idea of "a year and a day" of study. My year and a day is almost up, and I find myself reviewing what I've learned, how it has impacted me on a variety of different levels, and how I will continue and build on this work moving forward. I hadn't thought of celebrating this in any way, but maybe, just maybe, I will.

Gifts and Gratitude

Yesterday a lovely thing occurred: a nice-sized USPS box arrived at my home, sent from many states over by my diviner-friend, Robin, from the Quartz Cafe. I get tired of hearing myself say things like "I can't believe it!" or "This is amazing!" or "How the hell did I deserve this awesomeness????" But the truth is, those are the thoughts that have been flowing through my mind for a couple of days now, and they'll probably being hanging around for a while more to come.

Many months ago, just as I was falling ill with a nasty cold, Robin had sent me a package that she said would include "just" a new Kipper deck. I was pretty excited. When it arrived it was far more than a deck - she had sent incense, and an incredible quantity of wonderful teas, of all types. So as I descended into the throws of coughs and sneezes and lethargy, I was nursed along by Robin's teas, and entertained by my new deck.

Yesterday's box was amazing for many of the same reasons (and some others as well). First of all, she wasn't just sending goodies to me. She sent along some special things for a mutual friend of ours as well, who happens to live in my same town. Not only did I (and our other friend) become the recipient of the new Under the Roses Lenormand, but she just happened to toss in the Gaian Tarot for kicks. Really? That would have been enough to induce deep silence in me for days, but as padding for the decks she included a variety of tea, a sack of dried rose buds, a bag of loose white sage, spell candles anointed with her handmade charging oil, and boxes of new incense. 

Gaian Tarot - Joanna Powell Colbert

I tell Robin that I simply have to provide her with something in return, to show my gratitude. A lifetime's supply of readings??? It seems pathetically disproportionate, though I'd do it with joy (and I will most certainly hatch a plan to get her back some day). But she always says, "Just let me set my tent up in your back yard when I come visit." 

There's a sacred lesson here. (Though even typing that seems trite, since I'm the one who's done all the receiving, to date!)

All I can say is that I feel blessed and deeply humbled to have this ridiculously selfless person in my world. (Oh, and I suppose that one way I can show her some gratitude is by mentioning that her eBay shop has all sorts of wonderful divination items, so check it out! - this is someone worth doing business with).

So thank you, Robin.