A Beautiful Day

Today the sun was shining brightly and there was a stiff breeze blowing off the ocean, rattling the windows and blowing away all the cobwebs in my house and in my mind. It was a day for enjoying a leisurely breakfast, reading the newspaper, wandering through the house doing a bit of this, a little of that, and a lot of looking out the window trying to spot the mockingbird who was intent on celebrating this beautiful day with a very special spring concert.

So I took the day off, not from work or chores, but from taking any further conscious steps down the path I have been walking for the past year or so, a path of physical renewal and spiritual growth. Traveling that path has been both difficult and rewarding, and I have come such a long way I hardly recognize myself at times.

Last spring I was battling the effects of an autoimmune disease that had taken a long time to diagnose and whose symptoms were baffling and disabling. My joints were often stiff and sore and I had odd pains that suddenly appeared and then equally suddenly disappeared only to pop up someplace else in my body. In the morning I needed a cane until my joints and muscles loosened up, and if something fell on the floor, I had to pick it up with barbeque tongs. I could not bend over far enough to reach the floor. I was becoming physically weaker and more and more depressed, but I was also becoming more and more fed up! So last spring I joined a fitness center and started exercising, slowly at first, using only some of the equipment and for short periods of time. I also started massage therapy. A year later I can see and feel many improvements. I am much stronger, more fit and a lot more flexible. Most of the time I have a lot of energy and I no longer have those feelings of helplessness and depression. However, I still have a lot of work to do, and when my symptoms flare up, as they will always do from time to time, that work can be very hard indeed. But today I took the day off, enjoying the feel of the wind and the sunshine and the fact that my hip wasn't bothering me as much today!

The physical changes I have made over the past year pale, however, in comparison to the internal changes that began to take place when I decided to deepen and expand my knowledge and practice of the Craft. I started taking classes and attending rituals, learning from and sharing with others. The work has been rewarding, exhilarating and, at times, exhausting, and I know that this work, like my physical work, is far from over. However, as I relax and enjoy this beautiful day, I realize that the change has been profound. It's been happening, a little step here, a big leap there, but I've been too involved to see the whole picture.

Where I once honored and respected the elements, I now have a personal relationship with each of them. Where I once startled myself by projecting energy while creating sacred space, I now enjoy running energy through my body. I like the feeling of sharing energy with others and sending it out into the world to do any number of things. Where I once honored the Goddess in formal moon rituals, I now talk to her regularly in the shower and today even asked her, as water was pouring out onto the bathroom floor, to please stop messing with our upstairs toilet pipes! Where I once had moments of sheer terror contemplating my own death, I now walk comfortably and confidently "between the worlds," open to opportunities to explore "all the worlds." Yes, I've come a long way, but I am well aware that this journey and this work will continue throughout this lifetime and beyond.

Today, however, I took the day off. Almost.

Raven Dance

First I heard that unmistakable gutteral croak from somewhere above and behind me. Then four large black winged forms swooped over the house in loose formation, calling to each other as the two pairs veered in opposite directions. Each pair rose high into the air, dived one at a time and flattened out in perfect unison, Nature's version of the Blue Angels but so much better! As we stood on the porch looking out to the east, they wheeled and dived, joined together in a winged foursome, then separating into different pairs, just like couples on a double date who switch partners for a dance or two. Reuniting with their mates they continued to swoop and swirl, rise high and fall in closed-wing dives, leveling off to fly just under their partners. They flew in spirals in tight formation, wingtip to wingtip, then one would flip over, followed immediately by the other. The two pairs would meet in the middle and change positions, so that the pair that was on my left was now on the right and vice versa. I suddenly realized that the middle was right in line with our porch, and it seemed as if the show was for us. Maybe they noticed me standing there in my holey old robe and bedsocks, laughing and cheering and clapping, without regard for nearby workmen and passing cars. Maybe they really did take a bow as all four ravens once again gathered in the "middle" and flew as one bird low over the house and were gone.

Living in the Light

I saw the white cottage again this morning on the way to my exercise class. It is on my regular route from my home to the fitness center near the beach, but I hadn't paid any attention to the cottage until I started morning classes. I realized today that the difference is the light, the morning sun shining down on the cottage, the white fence, the overgrown garden, with the brilliant blue ocean and white surf as a backdrop. In the afternoon, the house is really quite ordinary, but in the morning it is magical. I don't have to open the gate or walk through the front door to know, somewhere deep inside of me, that I have seen that cottage, or one very like it, before in some other place and time. I have swept its floors, cooked in a big iron pot, baked hundreds of loaves of crusty bread, and grown herbs and flowers-hollyhocks, morning glories, daisies, roses-in its tiny garden. I have opened the shutters every morning and closed them at night when the winter winds blew strong and a thin layer of ice covered the path. I have spent many hours gazing at the sea, waiting, but for what? I may have been born in that cottage. I may even have died there. I don't know. I may actually be making up the whole scene in my mind, letting my always fertile imagination run wild.

What I do know is that that light has had special significance to me since childhood. It is always morning light. As a little girl, I saw it out my window reflecting off the freshly fallen snow on a winter morning. I saw it again when I first came to San Francisco, bouncing off the pale stucco facades of row upon row of houses in the Marina and off the waters of the bay and the sea beyond. I was drawn to that light and I had to move here.

I saw that light again on the west coast of Ireland on a sunny morning near the summer solstice and still again in Cornwall on a warm day in late May. In each case, all the ingredients were there, the morning sunlight, the white cottage, the overgrown hedges, the flowers, and the sea. I felt that this was home, at some time, in some place.

Eccos of the Past

Today I had to say goodbye to a couple of old friends, a pair of Ecco sandals that I bought years and years ago. They were Shaker style, made of rich medium brown leather with little holes on the sides, and they were among the most comfortable shoes I have ever owned. However, as time went by I wore them less and less as other newer shoes took their place in the front of my closet. Eventually I stopped wearing them altogether. I could still see them but I stopped noticing them.

Well, today I remembered those sandals and decided I wanted to wear them. It was like browsing through your address book and seeing an old friend listed there, one you haven't talked to in years, and deciding to call. I took my brown sandals out of the closet, dusted them off, and put them on. They were as comfortable as ever! I continued getting dressed and wandered into the bathroom, and I suddenly noticed that my feet were sticking to the tile floor, not much but just enough to notice that something was wrong with my shoes. A closer examination revealed that over time those man-made comfortable soles had started to deteriorate. They had become soft, sticky, and completely unwearable!

So I have had to say goodbye. I realize that those sandals were very old in terms of shoe-life, so their sad condition was not really surprising. Our lives are constantly changing and we have to clean out our "closets" every now and then to make room for new shoes, new ideas, new passions. What I regret is all the times I didn't wear those shoes when I had the opportunity.

I have another pair of Ecco sandals that I wear a lot. They are getting old but I am going to keep wearing them until they fall apart from use, not neglect.

Testing My Patience

Well, I finally made it! Establishing an account, then setting up a blog, then trying to access it, all seemed to be more difficult than it should be. I lost count of the false error messages I got, those that said "you can't do this," which sent me back through pages and pages of help information, only to find that whatever I wanted to do had already been done!

Anyway, this is just a test to see that everything is working.