A few weeks ago, my former Mother-in-law passed on, then, a few weeks later, I got news, via Facebook that a very dear friend and former teacher of mine–Lynn Johnson, had passed away peacefully in her sleep. I am grateful that I had gotten to see her a couple of months ago. She’d written me a few weeks back saying that we needed to get together for lunch again, and spend more time with each other…this never happened. Today, a priestess I never met, but who was a part of my spiritual community–Morning Glory Zell-Ravenhart passed to Summerland. For years now, I have been sort of holding my breath as I hear of yet another passing of someone in my world, known or unknown, distant or close…
I find myself experiencing a grief that seems unending, deeper than what I may have experienced at other times in my life. With my friend Lynn, I was struck with such sadness, because there was still so much I wanted to talk to her about, so much I’d wanted to ask her about her own healing work, as she was one of two of the most amazing teachers and healers that I’ve known in my life. Her partner Gary “Moonhawk” Butler was the other–he had passed on 4 years ago.
I have been left with such a feeling of aloneness and emptiness. I realized that in my life, despite how many people seem to “know” me, I have few very deep friendships, very few people I can call on when I’m in need, or just want to talk. Lynn had moved to Denver from Colorado Springs a few months ago, I was so glad to know that she was near. I had great hopes of calling her more often. We’d both even joked that as introverts, we found it hard to reach out to others. Apparently this is a major problem that I need to look at, if it keeps me from connecting with people I love, and that they are passing from this life without my finding a way to see them or even just hear their voices.
I think there are people in our lives who, while not related by blood, are of our spiritual family. We have traveled around together for lifetimes, meeting again and again and doing the work we have been chosen/asked to do. I hesitate to think of myself in the caliber of Lynn and Gary as a healer, though it’s hard to guage, given that I have chosen psychotherapy as my main healing modality. As I grow older, I have noticed my skills and my intuition deepening and becoming stronger. I hoped there was more that Lynn and I could have shared.
Growing up , as I have in this culture, finding others of like mind and spirit who are loving, gentle and kind has been a treasure, and what seems in my mind, to be rare. I’m not shallow or closed off, I couldn’t do my work if I were that way. It’s simply that I’ve become highly intuitive and aware of the “vibe” that each person puts out. I know within moments when there are people I want to get close to, or not. I couldn’t tell you how I know. As a kinesthetic, I feel a person out, I notice how they move, how they look at me, how they speak to me, how they speak to others, how they just–are. So for me, finding “my people” has been a beautiful thing. This musing about death has become ongoing–as it would be at this point in life. The elders didn’t tell us about this part of getting older–but then, how could they describe it, and how could a young person understand it?
As I look back on what I wrote a few days ago, I feel that I am moving along. I still get very sad when I think of Lynn and my ancestors. Yet, they are there for me. It may sound strange, but they speak to me, they are around me when I feel lost or sad, or anxious about life. I think perhaps, the elders didn’t want to scare young people by telling stories about how you begin to feel the other side more clearly, more surely. The other night, I had a dream of my Aunt Dodie, who passed on in 2001. I was hugging and kissing her, and feeling that I’d never thought I’d be able to do that again. Perhaps it is preparation–I don’t know, I don’t know…
What I do know is that it helps me to speak of my journey, and in writing about it, I can somehow make more sense of it. In the end, I won’t truly know , until I pass between the veils, and well, it will be what it will be…