Irish Music and a Blessing
In remembering the last journey to Ireland my mind goes back to Hotel Doolin and the amazing music we experienced each night. One night in particular we were able to get a table adjoining the musicians table. Yes they have a table….they sit around it and play. The rest of us are just there to witness their magical circle of music.
My journal reminds me, “The music was transcendent tonight! Absolutely transcendent. I called in all of who I am and listened with my whole self. YIPPEE!”
I drifted off to sleep with the sweet sounds of Ireland echoing through the dream time.
We flew in to Dublin on a super-eclipse-blue moon that hadn’t happened since 1866. Every morning the moon was hanging over the ocean when the frost kissed the tender blades of green. She inspired me quite a bit and I wrote this about her: “She shines over us in her elliptical journey, from one horizon to the other, with soft light causing tides and other invisible stirrings in hearts and minds as we open to touch the Unseen. We breathe in her grace and carry her rhythms into our soul.”
The music and moon must have inspired my writing. February 5, 2018 as I wrote this blessing in my journal that morning:
“May the dawn find you at peace with the coming day.
May the beauty of the first flower of spring cause joy to burst forth with gladness.
May the cycles of coming and going of the moon ever remind you of the cycles of your own coming and going.
May the life that longs to live in you rise up like the Earth’s daily awakening
And guide you ever onward to your heart’s true calling.
May every breath that warms your lips be one of peace with your life.
May your life be the true expression of your soul’s brilliance.
And may you find friendship with all of creation so that you know you are never alone.”
With gratitude I embody this path of a pilgrim, seeking inspiration and wholeness wherever I find myself. I hope to ‘find myself’ in Ireland again…soon.
The tattered web dripped with raindrops as the old, faded spider held on to it. No longer able to repair her artistry; unable to do anything but await her death.
For seven seasons the golden orb weaver spiders have instructed me on the cycles and rhythms of life. From the first April I moved into the home, the tiny hatchlings began their life full of vigor and determination to educate me on spider life.
Gradually the stronger females created territories and webs that amazed me. They grew in size and their color deepened as they captured insects and feasted around my home. The tiny males stayed out of reach of the females yet reaped the benefits of close proximity to the amazing predators. After mating, the females dined on the males. And this year, I was able to see the wild dance between a male and female as he mated with her and then ran for his life. Two days later, he was gone.
Each year the same process has been carried out. Little cocoons woven with spider silk are attached to the house, shrubs, and trees awaiting the spring. All through the winter they wait….and wait….and wait.
When I put my home for sale this past summer, I fretted over the spiders. Most people don’t share my intense love of critters, especially spiders. I asked the spiders to keep the front steps and porch clear this year, which they did. In years past many visitors to my home were squeamish over the large, colorful gals and their cool webs. I couldn’t bring myself to ‘neaten’ the outside of my home by removing the spider webs….couldn’t do it even if it meant offending potential buyers.
So now that the weather is chilly and the season of cooler weather is upon us, I say goodbye to my spider friends. One-by-one I have said goodbye over the past month as they disappear, their webs falling apart with winds and rains and no spider strong enough to repair them. I feel such sadness when they die but they leave behind hope for their future with bountiful cocoons filled with eggs, ready to devour insects next year.
By observing nature so intimately, I am reminded of the cycles of my own life. There are times of intense productivity, times of waiting, times of going within and times of expressing myself with immense joy. I consider the spiders my friends…Betty, Gertrude, Sally, Trixie and your hundreds of sisters….thank you. Rest in peace sweet ones. I hope the next owners of this home give your babies space to grow and be the amazing insect eaters they are born to be.
Last night I met a six year old boy who created a camera out of driftwood. He instructed me to push a button on it and anything I photographed would come to life. It took him only a few moments to invent this magical tool.
So many times society takes creative souls through a deadening process. Trying to keep someone in a small realm of acceptable norms kills the creative spirit within us….and makes us think we are not okay because we are different. And let’s face it, we’re all unique and ‘different’ at our core.
I’m sure many who read this understand what it’s like to think differently or express yourself differently. I have met a great number of people who have lived their entire lives in emotional pain because they are ‘different.’ Their creative genius can be lost…and that’s a loss for all of us.
He inspired me to give myself permission to create with wild abandon and imagine my life in ways I’ve dared not even dream. I’ve spent today reflecting on freedom and wholeness and self-permission.
So close to making it to the beach for sunrise but alas that amazing orange orb rose over the swamp as I pedaled. It didn’t matter. It was still an outstanding start to Spring. And was still low enough in the sky at the beach to offer very nice light for a couple of phone photographs.
I felt my life begin to open last weekend with manatees, kayaking, a book signing at Franklin Anderson Gallery of Art and a visit with an old friend. Laughter with my friend, water, sea cows and a family of artists I met were Spring tonics. Clarity began to ease the old stuck places into motion and it feels as if my life can breathe once again.
This is the magic of Spring. Not first stirrings but all-out growth bursting forth.
Growth doesn’t happen simply by reaching for light. We must dig our roots deep into darkness and dare to explore the Unknown before we leap forward into light.
