A house concert and the cycles of life

The birth of my nephew inspired me to do a radio show with a theme of family. I played songs about a number of things related to this theme, but one song that was particularly in honor of my nephew's birth was "Child of Mine" by Bill Staines.

Four and a half years later, I was in a room in which Bill Staines was singing that song while my nephew frolicked about, ignoring the music.  He was making a loop, jumping off the bed onto a futon on the floor, through a folding chair, and back to the bed again. 

It was a house concert, attended by maybe two dozen people, mostly friends and family to each other.  As I sat there seeing the children frolicking, it struck me that people have been gathering together for music in the evening for millenia.  Some things change.  It was not always the case that people were invited to such gatherings by way of Facebook.  It was not always the case that my nephew was one of the frolicking children.  His father was born when I was 15, so he was the one who was the frolicking child when I was in my teens and 20's.  And before that, when I was about 4 or 5, I was the one dancing about while the grownups sat. 

This time of year, the new green leaves appear on the trees.  Each autumn, the leaves fall and die, but each spring, new life awakens.  These are not the same leaves that were on the trees last year, but the follow the same patterns.  And so too do humans follow the same patterns -- birth and death, joy and sorrow, childhood and old age.  The cycles stay the same year after year, but the faces change -- each generation, different individuals go through these cycles.

The morning after a concert, I went to a cafe for coffee and a scone.  I went to that cafe once before, two years ago.  It was my brother who found it.  I don't live near it, but I had traveled to the area for the concert, so I took the opportunity to pay the cafe a visit.  I sat in the same seat that I sat in two years ago.  Two years ago, my brother sat across from me.  He never will again.  He has left this earth.  I stared out the window so the people in the cafe would not see my tears.

The cycles of life are eternal, but each individual who passes through these cycles is unique and irreplaceable. 

I want to record people's stories so that we can remember those who have gone before.

Walking through life

Sometimes life brings us pain.  Sometimes life brings us joy.  We can seek that which is good, but we cannot control what life brings us.  All we can do is keep on walking.

I am like the year, and people only want summer

I am like the year -- I have summer and I have winter. Most people want me to be only summer. If they see winter, they try to banish it. I don't like being banished. When I am around people, I try to be summer. But I don't have much summer to offer. That is why I don't like to spend much time around people.

I have a friend who is okay with me being March or November -- kind of tired or annoyed -- but who can't stand me when I'm January -- entirely sick and/or entirely depressed.

I'm not looking for someone who prefers me to be sick and depressed. I don't prefer to be sick and depressed. But unless someone can offer me compassion and acceptance when I'm sick and depressed, unless they can see through it, can see that I'm still the same joyful, optimistic, idealistic, funny, intelligent person somewhere deep inside, then they won't get much of me. If all they want of me is summer, they won't get much of me, because there's little summer to give.

Slower pace

The place where I work is closed for a week. Even if it weren't, I would have taken this week off to be with my family. There was much to be done before I embarked on my trip. It's a busy time of year at my job, and I wanted to tie up all the loose ends before our offices closed down. I wanted to send Christmas cards to 14 people, and to prepare presents for 12. I wanted to get my bills paid and my house cleaned. I did laundry. I packed clothes, toiletries, books, laptop, Christmas presents, and even bedding and a Christmas tree. (I have a two foot high artificial tree, an air mattress, and a pump for the air mattress.) I was out of vitamins so I had to go to the store for vitamins. I went to the post office to mail some gifts.

There was so much to be done. I couldn't finish it all. But finally I just had to leave. There's a saying, "What's done is done," but for me, it was, "What's undone is undone." I just had to accept that some things were not going to get done.

So now here I am in my hometown, staying at my mom's house. What's undone is undone. Those chores are behind me now. It's a slower pace. I sit and listen to my mom. I sit and listen to my grandmother. This is what we do. We stop and listen to those around us.

I am here in this small town, where families have raised their children for generations. My grandmother tells me of when she was young, how they would gather greens from the woods for food. It was the Depression, and people needed food. I see two teenage girls walking in the woods. It occurs to me that they may be the daughters of my high school classmates.

Life goes on. These houses have stood for decades and centuries. Generation after generation, children went to school, grew up, got married, had children, and their children went to school, continuing the cycle. Feel the age of these hills. Footsteps treaded these hills hundreds of years ago, and footsteps tread them today.

I stand outside at dusk, watching the crescent moon in the west. The bare trees are silhoutted against the sky. The trees in our front yard seem to reach much higher into the sky than the trees on the hill beyond them. The trees on the hill are actually on higher ground. It is only because the trees in the yard are closer that they look larger. And so it is with life. That which is closest to us looks so large -- the tasks at work, the house to be cleaned, the bills to be paid. But if we look beyond, we see that today is only one small part of a much larger pattern.

Spring: the emergence from winter's reflection

In Arianrhod's Dance, the spring equinox is described as the turning point when we move from the dark half of the year to the light half of the year:

The hearth work, the closeness of relationships, and the inner journeys we have made during the six months just passed will have taught us much that we can use to guide us as we step forth into a more physically active part of our lives....Those heady breaths of fresh, clean, spring air we take as we stand in the doorway are intoxicating harbingers of the Mabon -- the solar hero, Arthur, with all the wild budding world before him. There is a great and rising power here. The whole world feels it and celebrates. Each year, at this time, there will be a day when you know from the sunshine and the bird song, from the feel of the air, from the very vibrancy of the Land, that winter is at an end and a new power is coming.

In the past, I viewed the dark half of the year as a time of being cold, a time when nothing is happening, but in my druid studies over the past year, I've come to view it more as described as above. During the past winter, I would meditate by candlelight. When I think of winter now, I think of that candle, with its comforting light. I think of reading while wrapped in blankets. I think of snowshoeing in the woods on a crisp, bright day.

And what I've seen in observing the cycles of the seasons is how they remind us of the seasons in our lives. My life has been in a winter season for the past six years. It has been a very fruitful time. Six years ago, I did not know about either pantheism or druidry, and now both enrich my life greatly. In this time, I have learned to be more attuned to myself, to know when to rest and when to exercise, to know what is important to me.

The past six years have been a lovely time of winter in my life, but I worry that I will stay here forever. It seems to me that after all I learn from reflection, there will come a time to step out into the world again. Will I know it when the time comes? Or will I stay hidden, afraid of change, forever? I feel that I am on the verge of stepping into a spring-time phase over the next few months. However, over the past six years, there have been many times when I felt myself to be on the brink of spring.

One thing is that I have to live within my health. The times when I felt on the brink of spring in the past, it was mainly about hoping to be able to have my previous level of energy and health suddenly bestowed upon me. What I was waiting for was something beyond my control.

Now I see it differently. The way I see it now is that there are just a few more things I want to study, and then I want to choose to step out into the world. I want to step out with the same mind and body that I have now. I want to bring with me the growth from this six year time of winter. I want to live in accordance with my body's limitations. I don't expect to suddenly have the energy to do everything I want to do. But just as I have learned from reading and writing, the time is coming to learn from doing and from interacting with others.

Arianrhod's Dance and the seed of autumn

Tonight I read the autumn equinox section in Arianrhod's Dance by Julie White and Graeme Talboys. Some excerpts:

As with spring, the symbol of the autumn equinox is the seed. However there is a subtle difference between the seed planted and the seed harvested. That we planted seeds that we may plant them again may seem like an endless task without point, but it is only part of a much greater cycle. No seed is exactly the same as the seed from which it has grown. Each has within it the nourishment and the memory of the previous cycle....As individuals, we carry that forward in our own developing lives. However, we also carry it forward from generation to generation so that it lives beyond us....Genetically modified foodstuffs...break the cycle of development. If that should happen -- with food or in a wider sense -- wisdom is lost, our strength is gone, and we will wither....we must choose our path and work within it....Tomaotes are no better than fish. However, fish genes have no place in tomatoes.

At my job, I feel sometimes like a tomato trying to fill the role of a fish. At home on my balcony, looking at the trees and listening to the crickets, I feel like myself. I feel how I have grown from my parents, carrying forward their wisdom, while also being my own unique self.

Reaching for the sun

The weather forecast for a particular day may be uncertain, but overall, the seasons follow a predictable cycle. Life does not. We know that we have times of darkness and times of light, but there's no guarantee that summer will come to our hearts on an annual basis. Though we don't follow a predictable cycle as the year does, at times, we can identify our place in life as being similar to a certain station on the wheel of the year.

Last night, I was reflecting on the spring equinox. Spring equinox is a time when we are half in light, half in darkness, but we are turning toward the sun. That fits with how I feel. In the past few days, I have been thinking of all the things I use -- car, computer, cell phone, clothing, food, etc. I try to choose organic, locally grown, fair traded, recycled, and re-used products. Sometimes I succeed, and yet so many of the things I use don't fit these categories. I try not to use too much energy, but in recent days, I have felt it necessary to turn on the air conditioner.

In the same way, I try to devote my time and energy to making the world a better place, but too often, it seems that just surviving exhausts all my time and energy. I want to reach out to others in kindness and love, but too often I find myself discouraged and irritable.

And so, I live half in light, half in dark. I can never achieve all that I apsire to, but I can continue to reach for the light.

There's a song, "Every Flower" by Peter, Paul, and Mary:

Every flower's reachin' for the sun
Every petal opens when the day has just begun
Even in the city where they grow up through the street
Every blossom needs the sunshine to makes its life complete.
Some are torn out by the roots and cast aside
And some might be arranged for a bride
A flower's just a seed when it's young
And every flower's reaching for the sun.

Some are bent by fears they cannot see
And some are touched by love and set free
A flower's just a seed when it's young
And every flower's reaching, every flower's reaching
Every flower's reaching for the sun.

Sometimes I feel torn out and cast aside. Sometimes I feel bent by fears. Sometimes I feel I'm just a seed, not yet a flower. But still, I'll keep reaching for the sun.

Samhain, death, and renewal

The Wheel of the Year is supposed to remind us of how things in life change. It always seemed a bit off to me, because the Wheel of the Year is predictable. The seasons always arrive in the same order, and at their expected times. Life is not like that. A person can get an illness, and it never gets better -- there is no spring of good health to look forward too. Or a summer-like time of good health, time spent with family, and financial stability could last for many years, and then it could unexpectedly be over in an instant.

But as I performed the Samhain ritual on November 1, I saw it another way. Instead of individual lives, I looked at the bigger picture. There is a cycle of renewal. Someone in my circle approaches death, but someone else in my circle was recently born. In the even larger picture, stars and planets die, but new ones are born.

The Samhain ritual in the Druidry Handbook includes a part that goes, "The veil between the worlds becomes thin, and the ancestors come close to us. Their voices whisper in the autumn winds. As we stand among the falling leaves and the gray and golden light, let us remember the past and its lessons, and gather a harvest of wisdom to bear us through winter to the new spring to come."

As the old generations pass away, the new generations can seek to carry forward the wisdom passed on by the old generations, even as the new generations are forging new paths, and additional wisdom to pass on to the future.

I am grateful that my grandmother tells me stories about my great great great grandmother. My grandmother remembers knowing my great great great grandmother, but it will not be so long before no one remains who remembers her. However, now I have the knowledge from my grandmother, and I can pass it forward to the future generations.

Lughnasadh of my life

This is the time of year when we observe Lughnasadh. It occurs to me that where I'm at in my life now is at Lughnasadh. That is, Lughnasadh is the peak of the thermal summer (as opposed to the solar summer, which peaks at solstice). We still have a lot of summer ahead, and yet we know summer is waning now, rather than waxing. If the year parallels life, then spring is childhood and adolescence, summer is the middle years of childrearing and career, fall is when we retire from work and our kids are grown, but we still have a vibrant life, and winter is when we decline and die. And so, I'm at the point in adulthood when I'm no longer starting out. And yet, I feel as if I still am starting out. I feel as if I haven't yet found my path. As those who know me will attest, I am always wondering, "what should I do with my life?"

What do I want to do with my life? Over the past few years, certain values have emerged. What has not yet emerged is what I can do to enact those values. What I hope to do with my life is to live those values myself, and to support others who are seeking the same things.

As I see that my life is finite, that I have limited time to do whatever it is I will do with my life, I also see that my parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles are older than I am, and I probably won't be able to be with them my whole life. I want to take advantage of the opportunity to be with them while I still have that opportunity.

Dark times, healing, health, and prevention

Healing is the attempt to alleviate ailments.  It is good because it directs care and nurturing to other people.  However, what is even better is health.  To be in need of healing is to have discomforts which impair your ability to do the things you want to do.

I read about how observing seasonal rituals reminds us of the changing nature of life.  I read that there is no life without death, and no light without darkness.

But it is not really true that we must get equal measures of both.  I was reading about how we must have a season of darkness and a season of light, but in the tropics, people get the same amount of darkness and light all year round.

Though we all die, some live to be 100 while others only live to be 5.  Though most of us have some times of health and some times of sickness, some of us live with chronic illness our entire lives while others are rarely sick.

The changing of the seasons is beyond our control.  However, we live with them as best we can.  Here in the northern U.S., we cope with the dark time of the year by heating our homes, enjoying cozy indoor time, and enjoying winter sports such as skiing and sledding.

So too are illness and death often beyond our control.  And so too must we live with them as best we can.  But at the same time, there are things we can do.  We can research the causes and treatment of illness and injury, and then we can apply that knowledge for prevention and treatment.  This is the role of healers.

The same thinking applies to the earth.  The earth may be sick with contamination, but we can research and apply methods to heal this contamination.

And the same also applies to the problems of humanity, such as poverty, prejudice, and violence.

Life will bring us dark times.  To a certain extent, this is beyond our control.   But healers are those who seek to lessen these things.  And my focus as a healer is on prevention.  Illness and injury can be prevented through healthful practices.  Harm to the earth can be prevented through sustainable living.  Poverty, prejudice, and violence can be prevented through education and opportunity.  We can never prevent all negative things, and we should not condemn ourselves for failing to do so.  And because we can never prevent all negative things, we also need the skills to alleviate the bad things once they happen.  I think I need to learn these alleviation skills, but I think that my own personal calling is to focus primarily on prevention.

Solstice

Summer solstice.  It's a bittersweet time for me.  For me, summer solstice itself is a beautiful time.  But the fact that the sunlight has reached its peak means that now it will be declining.

The past few years, winters have been times of ill health, of fatigue and dreariness, of living with the constant tension of trying to ward off the cold.  Summers in contrast are joyful times of green leaves and bare feet and embracing fresh breezes as they waft across my skin. There is something about the sight of the lush green that opens my heart.  I think it has to do with it being a sight that was imprinted upon me when I was young.

This time of year, I enjoy soothing times working in my garden and sitting on my balcony.  This time of year, I go to festivals and fireworks and outdoor concerts.  This time of year, I see sunlight sparkle on the river.


Summer is a beautiful time for me.  Summer is when I can do things outside without being negatively affected by the weather.  But some people live in climates where summer is when you have to huddle in the air conditioning all the time, and lack of air conditioning can be fatal, while winter is the time of lovely weather when one can be outdoors.

Just as summer solstice has different meanings for different people, around the world at any given moment, people are in different states.  Some are joyous, some are grieving, some are lonely, some are overwhelmed, some are sick, some are strong, some are hopeful, some are hating, some are forgiving.

When we observe the holidays that mark the turning of the year, we are reminded of how things change.  I enjoy summer, but it will fade away and leave me cowering in the cold.  I cower in the cold, but the warmth will return once again.  In the same way, I will experience times full of family and friends, and times alone; times of health and times of illness; times of joy and times of depression; times of financial security and times of poverty.

But there is a difference.  The wheel of the year is predictable.  We know how long each season will last, and we know that each season that has passed will come again.  Life is not like that.  Sometimes people are never able to lift themselves out of poverty.  Some illnesses never go away.  And I don't believe in reincarnation.  We only get to go around once, and we don't know how long a ride it will be.  Tonight I listened to a CD by Woods Tea Company.  Two of their four members have died.  Tonight, someone I know witnessed a shooting.  I know several people with ongoing illnesses.

What do I want to do while I am blessed to have this limited time on this earth? I want to dance barefoot in the grass. I want to sing at the top of my lungs.  I want to laugh with my family and friends.  Every moment we can spend with family and friends is to be treasured.

 What it boils down to, less poetically, is the same list that I've made many times before: what I want in my life are time spent with the people I like, doing things outdoors, music, and dance/movement (the "/movement" is to include things like Nia, tai chi, and yoga in addition to dance).

All a Man Can Do by Tom Rush

"All a Man Can Do" by Tom Rush starts off with a young man saying goodbye to his parents, young and fresh, embarking on his life. In the end,

It doesn’t seem so long ago, I hitched down to New Mexico
I kissed my mama, I saw my father’s stone
Friends are gone or out or touch, but nothing seems to change that
much
The desert’s hot the sky’s still blue, I’m getting by still making
due
Take your chances take your shot, cause 50/50’s all you got
Make each day the best you can, that’s a line I understand
Live each moment like your last, cause life goes by you so damn fast
Make a promise and keep it true, cause that is all a man can do

What this makes me think of is that we grow older, we all experience hardships and loss. The unwise feel sorry for themselves and feel injustices have been done to them. The wise recognize that it's part of the cycles of life, and are able to maintain their sense of wholeness and keep on going through life, keep on seeing the beauty in life.

Friends

It's not that all my friends have abandoned me. It's true some people have chosen to move away from me. But I have also chosen to move away from people, or not to get close to people in the first place. I once thought friends were great, and then something changed, it was like the ground beneath me was no longer there. I've changed. I've changed in terms of what traits I value in others. I've found that I no longer appreciate people I once chose to be friends with. It's not a change that I wanted. It's just something that happened. Another change is that now that I'm tired all the time, going out gallivanting no longer appeals to me. One thing about friends is that in order to get them or keep them, usually you have to go out and do things with them. I've changed, against my own volition, into a solitary person, but if this is who I must be at this time in my life, then this is who I must be. I can't help but be saddened by it at times, but at the same time, I can still make the most of the life that I've got. I can embrace the fact that this is a time of quiet and reflection.

The day after

The day after Saturday is Sunday.

The day after a good day is a tired day.

The seasons of life

The seasons can be viewed as a metaphor for life. The time from the winter solstice to the vernal equinox represents gestation. You can't run around outside, but under the snow, you are warm inside and growing, so you'll be ready to burst forth to the spring. The vernal equinox represents birth. The time from the vernal equinox to the summer solstice represents youth. You are bursting forth, blooming, learning, growing. Summer solstice to autumnal equinox represents adulthood. You are sailing along, doing your thing. Autumnal equinox to winter solstice represents aging. Things are starting to change color and fall off. And winter solstice represents death, the end of the year.

The seasons also represent life on a shorter scale, the ups and downs we go through on our journey through life. For the past two and a half years, I have been in winter. A time to stay in, a time of solitude and introspection. At first, I tried to find my way into summer. Every time I thought I saw a way, I'd leaping into it, running around outside in my shorts, and getting frostbite. Now I've learned to stay inside and enjoy what the winter has to offer. It's a time of productive introspection, a time of peace and serenity.