Valentine's Day....Re-Membering

It was Feb. 16, 2000. My Mother died. It was two days after Valentine’s Day.

For her Valentine gift, my older brother brought her a 2 ft. wide and 3 ft. tall heart-shaped balloon. It had a smiling face, corrugated legs and flat cardboard feet. It stood in the corner, next to her chair. She was already half-ascended. The heart was better able to stand and walk than she. It float-walked on its own. She, her spirit, was wrestling to leave.

She insisted on walking; so sure she could; so sure she was. She wasn’t. She couldn’t. And it was floating.

She was agitated. She needed us to lift and hold her up, for she so desperately wanted to walk. "Just one more step", she insisted. That bed sore haunting her, propelling her onward. Peaches, her nurse, and I, each under an arm, attempting to lift her up as she floated in her own way like a swaying drunken woman. Finally she made it! She was standing.

But she couldn’t lift a foot. Her foot heavy; the heart-shaped balloon so light. Were it not for it’s corrugated feet it would have made its lift off. I asked her, "Mom, are you ready to sit again?" "No!", she insisted firmly, while her eyes remained closed, her body dangling on our arms. "Just one more step first".

I never saw her foot move. She was sure it had and said, "Okay". As we lowered her into her chair, I looked up. There to greet my glance was the Valentine’s Day balloon smiling at me.

Hobo & Me...Poetry in Motion

Revealed through Dream Tending:

No sounds
Stones fall
Whale calls me home

Wail the suffering of the world, I’ve felt the depth of loss,
the sorrow of limits cast in stones
the lonliness of not being seen,
of holding the tears again.

From the ocean of tears, whale is born
And speaks (sings) with wisdom, depth and clarity.

The shrill song of my
Whale cry
Anguishing up forgotten
Sadness.
Longing…questing for
a belonging
to myself.
Tears and tears of coming home
to
Deep belonging.

Hobo-
Other patience of the old stone thrower
ragged and loyal,
hence settle for lonely alone.
I am here.

song sung
voices voiced
companion
let’s go together
home.

This place, elusive, veiled separated
mysterious
I wail in longing
for my companion


Jacke’s Hobo
Sitting on a container,
not fully contained-
like a drunken knight

a sense of “lonely”, though
in the midst of others
connections were painful too

so many losses
where do I belong?
will I know it when I see it?

finally, girl, you’re paying attention!
laughter and tears
whale cry, answering cries

I belong to myself
the drunken sailor sobers up-
Companions.

Hobo home. Wailing Wall.
Whale watches. Hobo guides me, befriends and comforts me.
No longer alone.
He wraps his arm around me, holding me steady as my feet lift in stride.
He, forever by my side.
Finally, he relaxes, eating his candy bar, comforted
that his purpose is now seen, recognized, joined and embraces.
He, no longer to wander alone, without belonging.
Wherever we are, we are one, together,
Hobo and me.
Now we rest.
Now both relieved.
Our fate cast in stone.
A mere stones throw away.
Whale sounds with delight.
Announcing our reunion.
The Sea, the Hobo and me.

Sacred Advertisement

Many months ago I read what was written by Rob Brezny, syndicated astrologer, and it's stayed with me ever since: "SACRED ADVERTISEMENT. You're a star--and so am I. I'm a genius--and so are you. Your success encourages my brilliance, and my charisma enhances your power. Your victory doesn't require my defeat, and vice versa. Those are the rules in the New World--quite unlike the rules in the Old World, where zero-sum games are the norm, and only one of us can win each time we play. In the New World, you don't have to tone down or apologize for your prowess, because you love it when other people shine. You exult in your own excellence without regarding it as a sign of inherent superiority. As you ripen more and more of your latent aptitude, you inspire the rest of us to claim our own idiosyncratic magnificence."

As the secular New Year has arrived I encourage you to muse about the meaning of this Sacred Advertisement in your own lives and review the degree to which you're allowing yourselves to exult in your own excellence without regarding it as a sign of inherent superiority. Afterall, 2008 is the year of "commencement", the year of "10" or "1", the year that we begin to operate as a humanity from the perspective of the "feminine", "receiving" more than "figuring out", "allowing" rather than "forcing".

Happy New Year!