A few hours later I am sitting quietly. Tears start dripping down my cheeks. I realize that I am overwhelmed with grief.
It has been a hard few weeks: my neighbors (next county over) have had their land, houses, and communities razed by the Valley fire. Refugees in Europe are crowded into camps,
refused train rides, drowning in the Mediterranean, and treated as numbers to be distributed rather than people to be welcomed. Europeans understand climate change while many Americans continue to deny it exists. Glaciers melt around the world.
It seems so easy to step aside from such grief, or to think you have moved on. But it stores up, weighs on you, and
finally emerges as tears or illness. Both, in my case.
Reconnection
So I do a little writing to get it all out. Then I begin the Earth-Cosmos Meditation, one I’ve referred to often in this newsletter. I use it to ground myself and reconnect with places I love—the mountains around
San Francisco Bay, and sacred lakes and mountains in Peru. This brings my heart back into fullness and connection.
As I feed the filaments—the web of human light at the full moon, the nust’a despacho being offered by Don Humberto today, humans around the world reveling in the beauty of the eclipse—I re-member my connections, my spiritual work, my open heart.
And I feel healed. I have moved from grief, sadness, self-pity and exhaustion. I have returned to my essence. I have transformed.
Caution
Like all tales, this one is cautionary: you too can shed your
grief. You too can imagine yourself between blood moon, earth’s shadow, and sun, experiencing the light in your body. You too can shift, reconnect, and transform. May it be so!
