The Furious Spinner

Hey, if you're a hundred, I'm a young woman.

We're heading to the ocean tomorrow. The Old Sea has been calling me for some time now. We especially want to see the Confluence Project at Cape Disappointment State Park. (The entire project is amazing. If they can get it off the ground it'll be something. Maya Lin is the architect.) There's no internet at our hotel. I'll be back in cyberspace probably Thursday, although as soon as I get home I need to do a boatload of library work. Right now I'm transcribing my notes from the workshop. (Okay, not right this second.) Writing this is my way of stalling transcribing those notes.

Went to Falling Creek today to hang out with the fleurs and do some love-talking to them and the falls and the world. The flowers are going the way. As always I feel as though I have not appreciated the flowers enough. Did I mention that during the sessions where we paired up to do faery doctoring (at the workshop) that my faery doctor suggested I work with flowers and make my own flowers essences—discover what the flowers mean to me. This was quite amazing since we didn't know each other well, so I had never mentioned flowers or flower essences to him, and it wasn't anything that had come up in the workshop before.

One of the things Tom talked about in the workshop was "giving payment" to the Invisibles and to Nature. Clean up. Leave an offering. All things you know I already do, but it was good to hear it again—to remind me to always do it. As we were walking the trail today, a butterfly came right up to me. I said hello and offered her some water. She alighted on a nearby bush, so I said thanks for your company and here's a bit of water. I poured some on the ground and a few drops on a nearby fern. Then we kept walking. When we reached the second bridge, I noticed a piece of paper down in the rocks near the water. I knew every time I walked by I'd see this bit of litter, so I decided to go get it. It wasn't particularly easy. I had to scramble over slippery rocks and down a steep incline, but I got to it. I reached down and picked up the paper. It was a business card with a graphic of a butterfly over the word "milagro." (Which means miracle in Spanish.) It then had the name and phone number of a shamanic practitioner who does healing rituals. I could hardly believe it. A gift from the butterfly? What do you think? Should I call her? Even Mario was startled. He said, "You can't make this stuff up."

Another thing related to “exchange” happened yesterday. I was looking for a book I owned about Baubo. I knew what the cover looked like and part of the title. I have my books in order by subject and the big subjects I have in alphabetical order. (Hey, I'm a librarian, researcher, writer. What did you expect? I can't be hunting for my books all day.) All my goddess books are in the same area, next to my desk. I couldn't remember the author so I just scanned the shelves looking for it. I looked slowly and methodically three times and couldn't find it. It was a red book. How hard could that be to find? I asked Mario if he would come look. He did. He couldn't find it. So he started looking in my other bookshelf across the room. I said, "You know what. I think we need to give something in exchange for finding this book. Someone hiding a Baubo book would enjoy a good joke." (Since Baubo is that bawdy jokester goddess.) I asked Mario to tell a joke. So he did. Halfway through I looked over at the bookshelf, and there it was: as plain as the nose on my face, as they say. We just both laughed.

After Falling Creek, I went over to Linda's and did a little faery doctoring with her. We sat outside with the birds and flowers and trees and bees. I loved it. She loved it. It was a very loving session. I felt so present, so with my dearest sweetheart. When we finished with that, she talked about her death. (Remember she has given me permission to write about all this, including permission to use her name.) She said she feels it won't be too much longer. She's not afraid of dying, but she is afraid of being in pain and being helpless. She wants to die quickly, suddenly, after she has had a chance to say goodbye. At our next Gathering, she plans to say goodbye. She wants me to do the memorial, with her daughter if her daughter is able. She told me what she wants at the memorial. I wrote it down—again. I told her that I wanted her to send me a sign that she was still with me after she died. "I also want you send me a friend. I have never met anyone like you. You've made a big difference in my life." She is worried that she hasn't made any difference. We hugged and told each other how much we loved one another. I asked her what she needed me to do after her death. Be there for her daughter. Which we will be. She knows she has a home with us. I let her daughter know that again today. There was more, but it's almost midnight and I am suddenly tired. I hope for what she hopes for: that she dies right there on that land, in that place. She has lived her life the way she's wanted. She has made an imprint on all our lives. I hope the Universe honors her wish now.

I spent today in love. Absolutely. Every part of it. That's what I felt like out in the forest. It's what I felt like taking care of Mario today when his allergies bothered him. It's what I felt like writing to my faery doctor. It's what I felt like watering my garden in the dark and talking to the flowers and the dirt and the clouds. It's what I felt like sitting with Linda with my hand gently stroking her hair as I looked directly into her clear eyes and loved, loved, loved her.

Blessed be.

May You Love and Be Loved in Beauty! (Is there any other way?) 2 comments

2 Comments:

... definitely in love with wildness and this blog Kim. This was a truly thoughtful and inspiring blog entry, and it gave me so much to think about. Enjoy your journey to the sea and come back to us with all sorts of sights, sounds, colours and thoughts.

By  kerrdelune, at 5:25 AM  

My little travel bunny, you have come such a long way. Thrilled for your healh and ensuing travels, to the realm of fairy and the ocean.

By  Pam, at 11:39 AM  

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