Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Stars & Stripes

An article online today explains that rather than predicting the future, astrology looks at patterns. A series of eclipses in this period not experienced so intensely since 1944-46 infers that a world of personal transition and societal transformation may be repeated.

Other events align to generate more speculation, most specifically the date of December 21, 2012 when the sun reaches its farthest point from the center of the Galaxy and simultaneously eclipses that center from the planet Earth. The Mayan Calendar ends on that day, creating much debate predicting the actual end of our world or our world just as we know it (my preferred).

In advance of this, Hurricane Katrina heralds the affect of Global Warning and the Pacific Ring of Fire seems to be increasing earthquake activity. An oil spill, seemingly unstoppable, threatens to change the entire Gulf habitat and moves farther inland with every rainfall.

Personally, my body has been wracked cataclysmically. I choose to view the injury as a manifestation of the turmoil that rocks my soul. Seeking answers in the way I have lived my life, evaluating the belief systems that have led me to this day, I am overwhelmed by the mystery of the future and decide that a better focus is on the Here and Now. Living life in the moment might better serve my higher purpose (whatever that may be) and self.

Not for a minute do I think I am special in my suffering. I know people fighting cancer for their very lives. Others lose their farm from drought and over-population; still others their livelihoods in an economy teetering on collapse. More families split up. Tragedies conspire to break us down.

In one mood, I wallow on my couch despairing that this surgery will ever happen. My tube might never be removed and life returned to normal. I wince with pain and shuffle along while others swim, dance, hike, bike and kayak (this is Vermont, you have to understand). Oppression bears down with or without the humidity that has been hovering so many days in a row.

The tide recedes or a splash of laughter tickles the heart and the world seems suddenly brilliant with promise. The change might occur with the strum of a note, the trill in a song, a smile in conversation, or the breeze through a window rolled down in a car cruising the open road. More often than not, activity—being utterly in the moment—fuels the joy.

Recently, the Solstice and two eclipses have approached with such fanfare of portentous promises for transformation. Patience has been advised across the internet and in so many conversations to all those who struggle. Skins were predicted to be peeled of all hindering fear and lives that appear so complicated would be miraculously simplified into harmonious celebrations of love, peace and happiness. “Let the sunshine in…Let the sunshine in…”

Denied my surgery, I looked forward with excitement to spiritual healing.

Those events have now passed and the sun still rises and sets again. Clammy sweat between my skin and plastic bag remind me that miracles are perceived, not self-evident. The humid air still lingers, but my feet can be dipped in the lakeside water and the palpable relief of the evening breeze sings “hallelujah!” to my aching soul.

In my Igroup last night, men supported me to remember not so long ago when I stoically insisted I was perfectly fine and would beat back any and all challenges, wearing the obtuse smile of the Kool Kat pretending he was not affected by any hardships. This year, I have learned to ask for help when I needed it and stood on my own when I had to. I have embraced my children both inner and real. My body has been broken, but my sober spirit has risen to accept the pain of growth and nurture the joy in play. I have risked love.

Postponement of the surgery cannot mean life continues on hold until such time as bureaucracies see fit to turn the wheels. I am in charge of the sunshine in my own world, the heat, the cold, the companionship and the desolation. I can people the landscape and paint the colors however I like. Rainbows or blues, the choice is mine.

Fear eclipsed by passion is the true transformation.

Please share with your friends


kassia said...

Giving in, relaxing into the situation and into life itself, without giving up. A thin line to walk,for many people are afraid to fall onto the wrong side.
You are doing an amazing job with this,Kip!
Vulnerability and openness are one of the hardest things for all of us but especially men. Being afraid the doorway to our heart will be a pathway for more pain and hurt to come in, is simply an illusion. The truth, as you have told me yesterday, is that one persons vulnerability gives another person permission to find their key to their armor as well.
I appreciate your writing and wanted to sent you a soulful thank you. You are speaking my truth.

Beth said...

I love how you write about life ---your life, my life, all life falls into this article. Keep up the great life walk of passion which is now your focus. :) Hugs to you , Beth