Walkies

I remember the day
we were heading to your room
unsure what we would find,
as you were slowly slipping away.

All of a sudden I felt a presence
next to me on the side
White Wolf usually travels
but who with no fuss relinquished his space
to The Old Dog,
in her splendorous form,
young now and carrying her lead
allowing us to take her
to her dying mistresses room.

It was at first unsettling,
then it felt right and comfortable
as we showed her the way
along corridors unknown to her,
going to keep watch,
waiting to go with you on a last walk together.

Once in the room she jumped
on the end of your bed,
dropped her lead and curled up protective,
projecting her familiar presence,
as one by one others arrived,
family long and recently departed,
people not seen for many years,
some never seen or known,
peace being made between you and them,
forgiveness and understanding
shared at last preparing for new beginnings.

As I felt them arrive,
and though unresponsive to us,
at each appearance
you nodded and said, ‘Yes,’
clearly acknowledging their attendance,
the room crowding palpably with comfort,
while the drip numbed your pain.

The following week
when we returned The Old Dog
now sat beside your bed
her lead once more in her mouth,
waiting as you slowly moved beyond us,
clearly there were only hours left,
your breathing laboured and raspy.

At one point when it was right,
I stood up and leaned over you,
and gently spoke the Lord’s Prayer
followed by the 23rd Psalm
reminding you that your lord
was indeed your shepherd,
and you would dwell in his house forever,
I worked from memory,
reaching for words I no longer use,
but that were familiar to you
to offer reassurance and solace.

We left after several hours,
I sensed we did not need
to be there when you died,
that our continued presence was unnecessary,
for beyond any doubt you would be welcomed
at your crossing by those who
the week before gathered at your bedside,
but more importantly,
when you rose from your body to journey on,
your faithful companion would offer you her lead,
and seizing it The Old Dog would take you
on the most amazing walkies ever.

 

This is written about the experience I had when my dear friend Wendy died over the summer. When I would ring her over the years my greeting would be: ‘It’s me.’ To which she would respond, ‘Hello, you.’ I can still hear her saying those words that cheered me through some dark and difficult times. But I know she is safe and in the company of her loved ones, not the least of whom being Misty, The Old Dog.

Orion

I have searched for an image to go with this post, but none are as clear as the one I saw inspiring these words. I got up at 0300 to see the special eclipse not sure what to expect. In my pajamas, jumper and furry slippers I walked out of my little porch. Immediately in front of me was Orion. There were not lots of other stars confusing the view it was pretty much Orion standing tall above the Maize Mothers. There appeared ever so briefly a shooting star reminding me of the depth of space/time.

Although I got up to watch the moon slip into totality, and stood looking up in awe of her colour wreathed in darkness, but I was most taken by the view of Orion.

I made the acquaintance of Orion properly on Iona nearly 20 years ago. It was the first place he was close enough to touch. As I visited the island most often in October, it is not surprising that he was there to greet me. For me, his energy is quite powerful and mysterious. I look forward to my first sighting each Autumn and on such a special night this year, when the energies of the space/time were so evident made the moment even more powerful.

Orion 1

I revere your presence,
leader of the Sky hunt
through the wastes of Winter,
gathering your power
in the nights of Autumn.

I honour your authority,
caller of the Sky hunt
through the wilderness of galaxies,
focusing your strength
in the darkening of nights.

I respect your dignity,
master of the Sky hunt
through the mysteries of space/time,
holding your nerve
in the density of darkness.

Orion 2

I greet you, Orion,
this clear bright night,
ever deepening to the
cold harsh heart
of Winter.

I ask you, Orion,
to share your energy,
celestial light blazing
through the frozen sky
of Winter.

I thank you, Orion,
for offering your presence,
to sustain the fearful and weary
during every night
of Winter.

Orion 3

You are the Hunter
to my Gatherer.

The Hunter and the Gatherer paired
provision the larder,
enabling the tribe
to be sustained and healthy,
year on year
through every season,
moon and moment.

You are the Hunter
to my Gatherer.

No longer able
to partake the flesh Beasts,
for in these days
it is neither freely given
nor reverently taken,
I still require
this energy to survive.

You are the Hunter
to my Gatherer.

When I greet and reverence you,
with grace and gratitude
I am able to receive this energy,
these gifts the Beasts
can only provide if taken
with respect when given the dignity
of a freely surrendered death.

You are the Hunter
to my Gatherer.

* * * *

Even for me the third poem raises issues and paradoxes that are complex and not easily resolved. What I am able to do is articulate and then wrestle with them. And always, always eat with an open and grateful heart.

A Bit of Cat Relief

Yesterday , before I began the journey I shared in my previous post all three cats were snoozing and I recorded the sensation in the cottage.

It is energetically still here
when they snooze
in sun drenched windowsills
or retreat to the floor
when it is time to cool down.

It is energetically still here
when they disappear
into the land of feline dreams
a land we can never go
nor see nor understand.

It is quiet without
the great deep rumbling,
or the gentle soft purrs
requesting cuddles,
although who cuddles whom
is a question of some debate.

It is quiet and still here
but the space is not empty
for their presences remain
tangible visible known.

The space is not vacant
for their furry bodies
remain sides rising and falling
with each breath
occasionally twitching
during the chase of phantom prey.

When they wake up
munging meows
gentle purrs
even the language of insistent silence
fill the space once more
with the sounds of audible presence,
mostly.

Wyntre the largest sends,
this message loud and clear
please stroke me
so I know that I exist
am loved,
and by the way now
that I’m awake feed me.

Nocturne the smallest
reaches out with white claws
from beneath her black paws
beckoning a cuddle
on her own definite terms.

Purfling the eldest,
stands resolutely by the willow stick
willing me to take it up,
prodding it and me into action
to play circle chase
until my arm gives out.

It is often energetically
still and aurally quiet,
but they are here and present
my responsibility as well as,
company friends companions,
the furry members of my family.

* * *
As I write this out they are still once more; but Purfling is snoring in the sunshine as she soaks up the heat in positions only a cat can achieve. Bless.

The Badger’s Gift

Last weekend I happened upon a dead badger on the sidewalk around the corner from where I live. S/he had been hit on Friday night or early Saturday morning.

It was very upsetting to see this sight. I reported it to the Badger Trust, who log such incidents to help keep track of badgers and see if there are patterns around deaths, and the to Council for removal.

Several people walked by and were trying hard to ignore the body.

I spent time with the body, I allowed myself to marvel at the front claws so perfect for digging and the so sharp compared to the well worn back ones.

I studied the fur, appreciating the texture and colours.

After a while I sensed that the spirit/energy had not left the Badger. So, I spent time helping him/her let go and return to the Feasting Sett of the Badgercestors. I was given a name to refer to this badger – Baskin. After a brief visit to the Badgercestoral Sett, Baskin returned to me. This is not unusual. Other creatures have done this when I helped them let go and I needed their aid for some purpose.

Since I am looking for a new place to live, it was clear Baskin would remain and help me locate my new sett, as it were. I was humbled by this act of generosity and presence. Baskin now walks with me everywhere at little ahead on the right side, about 2 o’clock. It is a comforting presence to me.

Fast forward six days. Today was not a good day starting out. I have not been sleeping well worrying about the enforced move upcoming due to the landlord selling up, still looking for a job, and taking a course to help me be more employable since my university degrees are of no use to me in that regard.

I went out for a walk out of the village and made my way to the stream. The sun was glinting on the water at the bridge.

The clear ringing message to me was: You cannot capture the dance of the flow any more that you can hold the sound of the musics. Then I went to the gate into the field where I saw the young deer last spring. I called on the gods and ancestors, and the spirits of the land in the place where I live. I asked Nemetona to assist me as well in finding the safety of a new sanctuary. Baskin was there just the other side of the gate, looking up with affection and approval. Badger companions have at times been rather harsh with me when I needed that, apparently now I need gentleness.

As I turned to walk up the drive to where the Tall Oak stands I looked down and saw

My heart rose and I laughed with joy. . . A Badger Stone, a wee Brock Rock on the cement drive over a metre from all the stones of the rest of the drive.

Thousands of them and this one made its way to the crest of the bridge. I picked it up and sang my gratitude for the gift of encouragement.

From there I walked to the Tall Oak and around the path along its other side. After I had taken a few photos of the newly budding and blooming Gorse, my phone rang. It was from the HR department of a business I applied to on 8th December! I’d been short listed for an interview to be held on Monday. Because of the experience of finding the Badger Stone, I was feeling happy and positive and sounded it on the phone. The job would make enough money to live on and have a life. I don’t know how the interview will turn out, but it is the first one I’ve had in months. And at a time I really need one. It seems more than just an accident in the timing.

I have done other things to alter my perceptions of things and let go of past hurts, this has also cleared the way for new opportunities.

But I also feel much gratitude for Baskin, who although s/he is physically gone, has left an imprint on my soul and awareness as s/he continues to walk this part of my journey with me.

The arrival of the Badger Stone also encourages me to face the future, in trust and in the full awareness I am never alone. Badger is a powerful presence for me and has been for many years since I arrived in the UK. These events just strengthen my links with Badger and help give me the determination to move forward.

Animāginē

On my birthday the end of April when I was walking on a south coast of England beach I collected 13 heart shaped stones or shells and other bits of scallop and oyster shell, as one does. And here are a few examples:

      

Usually I find one or two, but since I’d not been to the beach in many months, perhaps I was being caught up, as it were. When I got home, I put them all in one wooden salad bowl, which I use to place such things. The two big ones have bigger bits from different collecting forays or walks, and the individual sized ones have bit from specific collecting adventures or small pieces. They are all over the house, but mostly in the kitchen and my office/library/altar space room.

The other day I was looking at the birthday collection and found this, though the photos don’t quite capture what the physical eye sees, but you might get the idea:

     

 

       

I had not seen the image before, and maybe it’s not all that clear to anyone else, but it is very apparent to me. I now understand it to be a spirit image or animāginē, from the two Latin words of the same meaning where in this case the lines indicate long sounded vowels. Only now it seems she wanted to be make herself known to me. Sometimes she seems to be playing a drum and at others she is scrying or writing. I write. I use my drums. And whilst I don’t scry I do see things in showings/visions, which is a bit hard to represent otherwise. She is presented on a bit of oyster shell. As an animāginē she is very powerful. I am not sure what our journey together is, but in my experience such energies, presences, guides do not come on a whim. They do not just show up for a cup of tea and a bit of chitchat, they come for a reason. They bear a message, warning, gift, invitation or . . . At this point I’m not sure which in this instance.

Just now I turned the shell over and there is another female looking animāginē:

      

Oh my, a twofer! I’d not seen the second one until just now. She seems to represent an older energy or presence. She is more shrouded, more enigmatic, more mysterious. I have no idea what to make of her, and to be honest I’m not all that sure what to make of her sister on the inside face of the shell. And as I type this maybe that is part of understanding the meaning. The animāginē on the outside face of the shell would be more hidden, less obvious, a protectoress of she who works on the inside. Again seen with the physical eyes she appears to be one thing, but the camera’s seems to show a dragonish face, so maybe this is a shapeshifter.

I am simply putting forth ideas here since I have not begun to work with either of them. I shall certainly have to spend time questing with, journeying with, pondering upon the nature and meaning of these two. I know what to call how they are presented to me; I am not at all sure what to call what they are in themselves, what manner of being nor the name behind who and what is represented. I have no idea what I shall find. I have no idea if they are related tightly to the sea or whether the sea, the great representation of the unconscious, is part of what the meaning holds. Could she be some aspect of me trying to push forth, who is well protected by the outside energy? Could she be a teacher? I have no idea at the present.

So many questions and so much intrigue. So much is revealed, or presents itself with the intention of or desire to be revealed or known if we only pay attention with our eyes, our ears, our minds, our hearts and our intuition. I am sure I will share more about her/them as I work with these animāginē.