2017: Challenges and Hidden Treasures

The instructions given by Mr. Lionharts were rather simple: intentionally select three cards to represent your central challenges of 2017. Then, let the cards suggest advice for each one.

The first part was, unfortunately, a quick task for me; this past year has been one of the hardest in the last decade or so. All three of these cards have come up for me on so many occasions throughout the year that I’ve entirely lost count.

Ancient Italian Tarot - Lo Scarabeo

Temperance was my “card of the year,” drawn last December as the theme for 2017. Finding balance, healing, losing equilibrium, tearing open wounds, throwing a stick in the alchemical spokes, regaining balance, learning how to live with disharmony, learning that disharmony is a powerful tool, learning how to seek balance once again. The 8 of Swords has had me identifying and attempting to destroy extremely outdated paradigms that were restricting my growth. The Tower - ah the Tower - has made a deep and potent friend out of fire and destruction. Watch it all burn, and see what is left when the ashes are carried away by the wind. Catharsis. It’s not over yet, but I do think that I’ve crested the summit and am heading down the other side of the mountain.

On to part two: advice for each challenge.

Pagan Otherworlds Tarot - Uusi.us

The Queen of Fire speaks to Temperance. She has been a regular feature of my 2017, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to see her here. She matches the heat of Temperance’s alchemy, hot and cold, a conflagration, a waning intensity. When I am her, reversed, it’s not much use talking to me; I am a ball of fire ready to reduce my interlocutor to ashes. But it is part of the birthing of her dynamic and deeply powerful essence within me. When I am her, upright, I enjoy engaging new people like never before - the hermit out of the cave - I hunger for connection, I laugh, I consume the beauty around me like a starving animal. This isn’t so much advice as a recognition that provides helpful perspective. I know this about myself, now. Some days balance is easier to achieve than others. I am learning to integrate this Queen into my soul, and that’s a process.

The Knight of Pentacles speaks to the 8 of Swords. Releasing those old and restrictive paradigms requires steady progress, one foot ahead of the other. I can measure it in small but tangible differences in my everyday life. It feels like I’ve been walking forever and the landscape has changed little. But one day I look up and can see the plains stretching out below me; little changes make all the difference in how I perceive the world around me, and remind me that I am indeed moving.

The 6 of Cups speaks to the Tower. I call this my “re-membering” card; through it I pull back the parts of myself that I’ve lost along the way. The Tower built of concessions, limitations, “buts,” “oughts,” “can’ts,” hard histories, and the stories I tell myself.... it falls. And in its destruction I find myself again.

Here's to closing out a thoroughly transformative year and inviting in 2018!

Death as a Source of Power

As part of my participation in an April Instagram challenge, I drew a card from the Major Arcana meant to represent the archetype from which I draw power. As I started to shuffle, my mind began to wander...what card would appear? I can say that of all of the images that passed through my thoughts, I was not expecting the one that I finally pulled - and it is in those moments that the most interesting and unexpected insights emerge....

I draw power from Death.

Druid Craft Tarot - Art by Will Worthington

I see the tale of Ceridwen, Gwion, and Taliesen here in the cauldron's crest, and it has special significance for me at the moment, another iteration of a common theme of inspiration and transformation.

In Death I see the story of our ancestors. How many people have contributed to our bloodline, have died without their names or stories ever being recorded? And yet they influence us still, in our blood and bones, in our örlog and our hamingja, the substance of our very souls. We are their legacy. Death - even our own mortal one - is not the end of our tale, nor that of those who will draw on our guidance far in the future when we are in turn ancestors, when perhaps even our own names and stories have been forgotten. No matter what, our essence is an indelible thread in the fabric of existence.

I draw my power from my ancestral past, and from the mythologies that still serve to teach timeless lessons to us after thousands of years.

I draw my power from the cycle of death and birth, or creation, and change; death and life are indivisible lovers.

Yesterday's Hanged Man, drawn as the "source of my skills," brought to mind, as always, Odin's story of self-sacrifice. Today's Death furthers that line of connection: to greet its presence every day, even in its smallest measures - the death of a thought, a feeling, an assumption, a limitation, of an expectation or desire - to allow something new to be born in its place: that is life and growth.

Exploring Moldavite

Several months ago I was studying a comprehensive book on crystals when I read about a funny green tektite called "moldavite." I'd never heard of it prior, but the description of its metaphysical attributes was intriguing. It's often called a "stone of transformation" that will open and clear the heart chakra, and it's said to be a powerful aid in meditation and dreamwork. Most interestingly I had read that even people who are not particularly "sensitive" to crystal energies often feel a variety of distinct sensations when holding moldavite for the first time, ranging from headaches, hot flashes, and rosy cheeks, to deep calm, and even stomach aches.

Iolite, Moldavite, and Blue Kyanite

Needless to say I was curious!

I was also somewhat skeptical, but in the best way possible. I absolutely love working with stones and crystals, and find their influences to be both subtle and powerful. Most of my most notable experiences with stones have come about quite by accident. For instance, the first time I saw black tourmaline, I was entirely mesmerized by its velvety blackness, and I remember my crown tingling when I held a piece of it. It simply felt so good, like getting a deep tissue massage on the soul. Later I read about it and was very interested to find that it was a very popular stone for use in protection and cleansing. Years later I still fantasize about taking a black tourmaline bath, and holding a handful of the stone is just as soothing as the first time.

Another time, I was dealing with some emotional turmoil, and one morning I felt an urge to throw a piece of selenite in my pocket, though that would not have been my intellectual choice. Later that day I remember commenting to someone about how calm and at peace I felt - it was notable, given the circumstances. When I decided to research selenite's properties I found that it's known to be a very powerful balm for emotional upheaval.

Then there was the time I was gifted a clear apophyllite pyramid and was told that it was good for clearing the crown chakra and opening a channel to communication with guides, etc. That night I decided to put it under my pillow and had the wildest, most intense dream ride ever. When I looked up "apophyllite and dreaming" I found that indeed it is also known to stimulate dream activity and recall.

I describe all of these experiences to make a point: my understanding of the potency of stones, crystals, minerals etc., has primarily come via personal experiences first and foremost, later followed up and affirmed by research (usually spurred by the experience I'd had).

So reading about moldavite was certainly interesting, but I took the "see it to believe it" approach. This was only underscored after speaking briefly with another crystal lover who owned some moldavite. When asked about her experience with it, her reply was, "Meh. I got nothing from it. It's pretty, though." The general sense I got from her overall demeanor was that she thought the excitement about moldavite was mostly (if not all) hype.

The next time I went to a local crystal shop I looked and looked and looked for moldavite but couldn't spot it anywhere. Finally I asked a shop clerk and she explained that they keep the moldavite behind their glass counter (ah hah!) and she proceeded to pull out a small box full of quarter-sized pieces. I asked her how much it cost and she said, "These are about $50. We also have some larger pieces that are around $120, but we price it out by the gram, so it varies." Whoa. That's some expensive rock. Needless to say, I passed.

A month or so later I returned to the shop and after making some stone selections I went to check out. While at the counter I casually inquired about the moldavite again, and once again was told that the smallest pieces were around $50, however they were ordering some smaller sizes which would come into the store in a couple of weeks. I made a mental note of that, however a week later I found myself at another metaphysical shop (the only other in my general area) and asked them about moldavite as well. It turned out that they not only had the $50 and $150 sizes, but they had a box of tiny moldavite chips (perhaps a bit smaller than a dime) that were priced at $10 each. Score!

Tiny Moldavite

While there the store clerk asked if I wanted to hold one of the medium-sized pieces, and I consented. She explained the various reactions people often have as she laid it in my palm. At first, I felt nothing at all as I stood there, palm open and facing upward. A moment later my hand started to feel quite warm, and I began to feel currents of heat move through my body, starting at my feet and moving upward toward my head. It was almost startling. I remember saying to the clerk, "It's hot! I'm getting heat flashes." And she said that that was very similar to her own experience. So she sealed up a tiny piece in a very tiny plastic bag, and I left.

In the car, I took the little moldavite piece out and held it in my left hand as I started the car and drove home. It almost felt like it was burning a hole in my palm (though not so uncomfortable that I had to put it down), and this time I started to feel both heat in my hand, and something akin to shivers through my body - like cold chills. After I put the stone away, the hot sensation in my palm remained for hours before fading away. Hmm... perhaps there was something more to this than just hype! Later in the evening I did an internet search for "moldavite and chills" but came up empty handed. There was plenty on moldavite and heat, but nothing on cold.

That night I placed the moldavite into a muslin pouch with a Lemurian seed crystal point and tucked it under my pillow. I've slept with this crystal combo every night for the past two or three weeks, and every single night my dream experience is the same: from start to finish I have a very full night of complex dreams, and when I awake they slowly start to fade until I'm left with a few vivid bits and pieces. There is no variation in this - no nights with nebulous and hard-to-recall dreams, no nights with stunningly clear, stick-to-the-ribs dreams... nothing "typical" per se. No apophyllite dreams, but most definitely a very defined, unique, and consistent pattern.

Moldavite pieces and a Lemurian seed crystal

The first night that I slept with moldavite under my pillow I experienced the deepest, most calming sleep of my adult life. I was utterly worry-free, my body was entirely relaxed. It was amazing (and I haven't experienced that since). After getting up and about my day (with moldavite hanging out in my pocket) I started to feel a bit "off" energetically and the only word that seemed to fit was "agitated." I wasn't sure if I was getting sick, or if it was allergies, or if I was in a bad mood. It clicked in my mind that this might be moldavite-related when I was leaving a voice message for my sister and when I tried to explain how I was feeling, I said, "I feel itchy and agitated like a snake shedding its skin - like I just want to get it off and get on with it." Those words - "a snake shedding its skin" - gave me pause as I recalled that moldavite was a stone of intense transformation. But hey, maybe it had nothing at all to do with the stone in my pocket! I felt that way for about two days before it faded away.

Eventually those initial sensations I had with my little moldavite piece didn't seem to occur anymore. I could hold it without feeling much heat. Was it still "working"? One afternoon I was in the first metaphysical shop (not the one where I'd purchased my moldavite) and was sitting on the floor examining some jasper when I heard the manager discussing crystals with a new employee. She gave the woman a piece of moldavite to hold, and the woman (apparently just as startled as I was my first time) exclaimed quite a bit about the heat moving through her hand. The manager said, "Yeah, it's always intense the first time, but eventually you won't notice it anymore." I latched on to that last statement, and later when I went to check out I asked her about it. The new clerk told me about how amazing the sensation was, and described the same feeling I'd had in the car weeks before: heat in the hand, and cold chills throughout the body. That was interesting. I told the manager that I'd had a small piece for a while but wasn't getting the same intense response as I did originally. She said that in her experience, and after speaking to many others who have worked with this stone, that intense experience occurs when the moldavite first meshes with your energy field, but then after it does its initial vibratory work, it settles in to something like a "maintenance mode" and is subtler moving forth. That made sense.

A week later I ended up picking up a second small piece of moldavite, and I knew immediately that I wanted to take it it home because almost immediately after placing it in my palm I could feel a pinpoint of heat in my skin. Perhaps each stone carries a unique vibratory rate that requires its own adjustment period. Not sure.

The most notable thing about this second piece was that the following day I was starting to feel fidgety again, and that "agitation" crept into my limbs. It was exactly the same sensation I'd had when I had purchased my previous piece (though I never did experience that blissfully peaceful sleep with the second one, unfortunately!). A couple of days later it faded away.

As time progresses I notice some underlying impulses toward evolution and change. I can identify these in retrospect, though as they have unfolded I haven't immediately recognized the pattern or attributed it to anything in particular.

I've found myself enmeshed in what I might describe as "transformative thought" of late - existential musings based on where I've come from and where I'm at now:

• When I die, will I be satisfied with what I've accomplished? 
• Will I have any regrets? 
• Am I settling? 
• Am I living in alignment with my highest truths? 
• Is this job I have (as grateful as I am for it, and for all it is teaching me) what I really want to be doing? 
• Could I be making a more significant, beneficial impact on humanity in another profession? 
• Am I honoring and making sufficient use of my talents? 
• How might I increase my sense of freedom and personal agency? 

Whew! Questions that are important, and not for the faint of heart. And these are very "moldavite" questions when I think about it.

I've been learning to "trust" more completely, especially in terms of the metaphysical realm; I've had quite clear moments of understanding which have shown me the source of certain anxieties and doubts. This has been extremely beneficial, welcome, and rather surprising, to be honest. By acknowledging and identifying the root cause of a certain automatic response, it's possible to open the space necessary to change it.

All in all, it's a pretty interesting little gem!

Fire and Air

I've come to regard the court of Air in the Tarot as my principal teacher in 2016. The Knight of Swords made many important appearances throughout the previous fall, along with the King, and at times the Queen as well. They are here to help me recognize the power of their element within me, and to develop those aspects of my Self that will benefit most from their energy and wisdom.

The other night I drew a card from the Dark Goddess Tarot asking how I might best approach this integration of Air and out flew Cerridwen, the Witch of Fire:

I picked up the card and when I saw the sow-faced figure of this goddess I was entranced, though also slightly mystified that I should receive a fire card when asking about how to enhance my air qualities. The guidebook names Cerridwen a goddess of transformation: "Craft anew with the bones of the old." Ah, transformation. Becoming. This is certainly a year for those things. The infrastructure remains, but the qualities and elements are engaged in an ever evolving dance of growth and change. Cerridwen tells me that my walk through the realm of air is not so much a journey that I'll be navigating, rather it will be a process that will occur organically within and around me. It's simply time. I will learn to breathe and to speak. I will learn to release and to name. I will craft and be crafted; I will learn to allow the breeze to move through me. I will learn about power, and about the ways in which air and fire feed and influence one another. Air is already mine; I will learn to claim it.

As we drove to the sea a couple of days later I decided to pull a card for each family member for the year ahead from the Cosmos Tarot and Oracle deck. Uranus for my husband, Grus for my eldest. The Knight of Water for my Pisces son, and Canes Venatici for my younger daughter (a dog-lover, "incidentally"!). Lastly I pulled my own..... Lynx - King of Air!

Full Moon in Gemini: Bonding the Self

This morning I felt drawn to pull a few daily (or - moment -) cards from the Earthbound Oracle. As I laid them out they wove a clear story before me, and engaged with their tale I decided to take a look at the "shadow" card at the bottom of the deck - Luna - fitting for today's full moon.

But the cards, the central line of three, had much to say about where I'm at right now that also flowed with the fact that today's full moon is in Gemini.....

Death - Bond - Self

On the left, reflecting where I've been of late, Death symbolizes the deep transformations that have been flowing through my life on so many levels. The lemniscate over the third eye speaks to the endless cycles that we can perceive most clearly when we still our Selves. I like how purple ribbons curl upward, new sight being revealed. In many ways I am indeed experiencing new sight - a new way of "looking" at the intangible world, and even a new way of viewing and interacting with my environment at work due to a change in position. And just visible behind the skull, a full moon glows.....

To the right there lies the Self, an eye opened outward. When I was preparing for my recent interview I pulled a card from this deck to help me focus on my approach, and it was Self. Let them see your heart. Be you. And so that is what I did. And it was good. But now I am exploring new aspects of my Self. I have always felt that I was more an "individual" - not a follower, not necessarily a leader, but, well, perhaps a loner, though that carries a slightly negative connotation that I don't love. Yet I am a leader now. What does that mean to me, about me, for me? How does that impact my own sense of self? What natural characteristics will I cultivate and nurture and strengthen through embracing this new role?

In the center is Bond, bringing together Death and Self. The image appears to be an atom with an acorn nucleus and leafy electrons swirling about. Electrons have a negative charge and are bound to the atom's nucleus which is made of protons (with a positive charge) and neutrons (which have no charge at all). Opposites attract: how appropriate! And there is that the acorn, the seed of change, that tiny emissary of life that with just the right amount of rainfall, sunlight, oxygen and nutrients will grow ever stronger, up up into an oak tree. Change brings new sight, brings new possibilities. Change is one of our only constants in life, as ironic as it is, and change offers us new ways of understanding ourselves. (Funny, then, - or synchronistic - that I chose the 2 of Pentacles from two different decks this morning!) ;-)

Tonight's full moon is in Gemini, and About.com describes it as a time of: 

"de-coding language; observing social trends; wearing many hats; the view from all sides; shaking up reality; playing tricks with perception; fascinating fragments of style and culture; getting the cosmic joke; being contradictory"

Yes.

In my own time of bonding I am standing on a precipice looking both downward and upward. I see from where I've come; and I see that there is more ahead, though I may not be able to make out the details. I am no longer who I was, and yet I haven't entirely become who I will be. Sacred space. Ancient and natural. The current turns back on itself, as it always will, and yet never returns to the same place. 

The Winds of Oyá Blowing

I haven't been able to post as much as I've wanted to of late. I think about it every day and between teaching, managing, parenting, and doing many (wonderful) readings for (lovely) clients, I never have the time or the energy. But I'm making space tonight, to release some of this energy. Throughout the month of October much movement was taking place. I started to see 333 everywhere, and it's the first time I've ever noticed numbers like that, and felt its significance. Eventually I came to feel that it was an acknowledgement that I was in good (spirit) company, and I felt that attention quite pointedly. It was comforting.

I've already written about the crazy happenings with our car so I won't recount it, but I was both aware of struggle, and aware that there was something more transpiring. In those moments where the challenge of the moment felt sharpest, I kept this mind, and placed my faith in what I couldn't see, but what I knew was there nonetheless. I pulled a lot of 10 of Swords, but one of my more memorable draws was during the Shadow Work October challenge where I pulled Obatala, Elegua, and Oyá from my New Orleans Voodoo deck. It was a powerful line for me: my father, my best friend, and the sacred presence of Oyá; the shifts and transitions she brings along with her. 10 of Swords, Oyá.... the car died, my egun, Elegua, always Eshu-Elegua, 333 and 33.... so many things sifting through my mind.....

Oyá is called the "owner of the marketplace" and the "owner of the gates of the cemetery." These are often treated as literal, and they can be taken as such, but they are metaphorical first and foremost. Oyá is owner of change. The marketplace is Earth. The market is where we engage others, we barter for what we need, we pay and are paid, we argue and laugh, we learn about the affairs of others, we sing, we eat. We live. The "marketplace" is simply another word for the world in which we live, where constant change, upturns and downturns, is the way. There is a saying, "The world is a marketplace; our real home is the spirit world." Oyá is not the owner of the cemetery itself, rather the passage - the doorway - the portal between the marketplace and the spirit world. The cemetery is a physical place. But she ushers us from an old way of life into a new, encouraging us to let go, to shed our skins, and thus she governs the process of transformation of which death is a part.

Oyá's winds tell us that it is time to leave; to leave what we are used to, what wasn't working, to pack our bags and get ready to go. She helps us to peel away our old selves, she gives the courage and strength to burn down and rebuild, always better than before, always more than we could have ever really understood. She gives us the gift of change, a gift always meant to bless us when all is said and done.

In so many ways my life has changed in the last month alone. I've been scared, sad, anxious, speechless, furious, determined, worried. I've been grateful, moved, touched, thankful, speechless (again), honored, humbled, in awe, triumphant. My life has utterly changed. The reality I see as I look out from these eyes is not the same as it was a month ago. I have possibilities now that I never imagined. There is newness in my life that I didn't anticipate and could not have imagined.

I have learned a lot. And I realize that I'm somewhat inarticulate here; I am forming these words with the last dregs of today's energy, but it's been over a week that this has been calling for release. Hope and faith are everything. Trust is so important. To stay positive, even when the outlook appears dark, is the only way. It's not easy, but it's the only way.

Maferefun Yansa, maferefun todos los días.

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