Pink Pond Lily

Pink Pond Lily

Monday, January 6, 2014

WILD WATER EPIPHANY

Happy January 6th. Today is Epiphany…the day that marks the coming of the Kings bringing their gifts and wisdom to the newly born lord. Epiphany is the sudden grasp of something's essential nature…an intuitive understanding of the meaning of something. I love the word and the concept…I especially enjoy pondering it's implications on this rainy, dark, foggy, icy day here in Bethel Maine. The darkness has been invited fully into my heart. I can only thank Sadie for that. Her light, happy, joyous self being snuffed out in November completely shut the light out in my heart…temporarily but totally. Darkness is something our society seems to fear. Every effort is made to electrify our people world with all manner of lights. They burn unnecessarily all night long, lighting up the potential of criminal intent…or shadow monsters moving through the night. Huge spot lights just across the street turn on when the renters come from Massachusetts for a ski week and they don't get shut off until they leave. Such is the need for denying the dark. And yet, in their zeal to temper the dark, the electric light lovers tamper with true contrast. The dark is not dark enough to see the gazillion stars that sing nightly to our Earth. The nocturnal animals remain aloof and distant. We humans seem to have a fear of the dark.In fear, we shed light before it is time. Yet it is in the deepest darkness that we begin our human struggle to understand what life is all about. The dark is the place of beginnings and endings…it is where the seed is planted, the body lies buried, the mind knows it's limits. It is where love is born. Healing of all kinds requires a return to darkness…a making friends with mystery. Miracles require faith to be seen and what is faith but a heart alight with intuitive knowing. The weight of grief is a darkness that falls over the heart…like the piles of dirt shoveled over the remains of a beloved soul that has passed. Earth lies heavy on the heart that grieves.

I feel like I have immersed myself in the inevitable darkness of these holidays. For once, I passed through the Christmas season without frantic, empty business reigning over my choices. Clearly for me, the most important priority of all, was to hold sacred the space of love in my heart. The joy and the pain of it…the bitter and the sweet…because the heart must chew on both sides of the love bone. And in order to hold open the space, I had to surrender to the darkness…the not knowing…the mystery. I remember reading a passage somewhere about the healing power of wild water. The author was used to city tap water and was warned that brook water could be contaminated with run-off. His heart craved the experience of drinking wild water right from it's source…something many did before our consumeristic society poisoned the entire environment. The metaphor appealed deeply. There is a thirst that only pure wild water can quench. It is the Something More…the quality that in it's very pureness has the power to heal. Sadie was a passionate lover of life. She was drawn to a woodland stream like a bee to honey. She would stop dead in her tracks and listen for the sound of trickling water when ever we approached a brook. The music was her calling. Then she would look for me to say "OK…go. Go ahead Sadie"  and she would bound to a spot in the brook where she could sprawl out like a queen and leisurely lap at the clear water swirling around her. I loved watching her…and deep inside, I could feel a thirst quenched within me.

Yesterday, I took myself up to the mountain. Sick of doing my routine, staying in the house , feeding the wood stove and cleaning and organizing, I had a craving for something wild. Suddenly I couldn't NOT go anymore. I was moved to get out all my gear and get myself up there to ski. It was one activity that Sadie never accompanied me on, so it seemed likely that it wouldn't resonate with sadness like walking our familiar trails could do. Trouble is, I discovered I was really afraid. I felt the vulnerability caused by dislocating and breaking my shoulder in February. I felt the nerve pain of sciatica in my right butt. I had dropped a log on my left big toe the night before and awoke with pain at 3 am. I obsessed about not going until I woke up, had coffee and wrote for awhile…then I obsessed about going. Since Sadie was killed, I see that Ive hidden away…gone to the darkness to lick my wounds. It may sound melodramatic…how much she meant to me…but you must realize, she was the centerpiece of my daily habits for 3 years and then…gone. Gone…she teaches me the incredible value of her short life with us. Gone…she is with me almost more than when when she lived. Anyway…I encountered an odd sequence of events. I saved a small piece of pie for Stevo. When I entered the kitchen, my eye spotted a large piece of the pie had been dragged to the center of my stove. Ah…a mouse! Then I looked for my pass holder and discovered that a mouse had used the right heel of my ski boot to make a nice pile of dog food and bird seed. I thought, well…he must be 60. He forgot where he put this pile and raided Stevo's pie instead. Dog on my mind…dog in my heart…dog in my heel. Sadie was going skiing with me. Shaking inside…sure of certain injury…I became fully aware of my tendency to imagine the worst possible outcome from any challenge to my nervous heart. But somehow..the moment arrived when I could not listen to the bullshit anymore…and I realized that my dire predictions are one of my main weapons used in self-sabotage. I'd been running the hamster wheel long enough. Sadie's bounding spirit appeared and inspired me. The first person I saw up at Sunday River was a friend Mary-Ellen, who several years ago was hit from behind by a car as she walked during a lunch break. She was broken in many places and her road to recovery was long…arduous. I went to say hello and she embraced me. I immediately flooded with tears and told her I was scared silly…about to take my first runs after my breaks.She told me about her first run upon recovery. She inspired me…her very being inspired me. Then…to the chairlift. No turning back now. I slide up beside a party of 3 and it is lift off.
The lady turned to me and said…I know you! We met you on the dock this summer. We are from Marblehead and our daughter Eva was jumping off the dock with your dog. In shame, I told her about Sadie being killed. I feel horrible…even guilty about her death because she was entrusted to my care.

So that is how Sadie lifted me up and got me out of the chair and onto the mountain despite my human foibles. I took 3 runs…just enough to break the ice over my heart and sip long and deeply from the wild water of courage that I never seem to give myself credit for. Shhhhh…there it is. Listen. The trill of a wild mountain stream runs in my heart beside the weight of ice and snow. Something i never knew about myself has been born. Under all that frozen motion is a trickling stream of courage where I can drink. And the epiphany newly revealed? I am so much more than what I think I am…and so was Sadie…so is Sadie…she who lives and skis beside me and within me

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