My grandmother was from a fable like place in Scotland called Ayrshire. Much went on in this enclave and much energy came from the sea as did her sustenance. My grandparents were old when I went to stay with them but there was a caring about them that I have never again found in my entire life thus far. My grandfather had gone down in the coal mines at age 12, scrabbling around in the bowels of the earth, in the dark. And I remember my grandmother gazing at the hills and the stars - as she must have all of her days since childhood - she was acutely aware. They both held dreams and nightmares, but somehow were able to manage them. This they passed on to all of us (52 (and counting) grand, great grand, and great-great-grandchildren) I catch glimpses of it in my children, my youngest in particular - but that is their journey to discover. An understanding of the natural realm was coded within us and sometimes this 'modern' existence wreaks havoc on our systems. I only have one regret in this life and it was in not having more children.
Life has been described as the great humbling and 'letting go' of things until, like a fine reduction sauce, (and if you stay true to yourself) you are left with things that matter. Eventually those will fall away as well. The spiritual seeker (as per my observations) is nomadic by nature, tantalized by the experiences, new waters, horizons, and Terra. My calling came when I realized my spirit was dying and I stood with one foot in a materialistic existence and the other foot ready to step to a shrouded path. I chose the path. Although it's been difficult at times, I have never been sorry. So many things from that materialistic life that seemed so tragically important have fallen away.
Years ago I went out west, through the deserts and was amazed that in the middle of nothing there were junkyards. Filled with fallen things. No one with coin to claim them, they sat as the sand blew and smoothed them down. There were old cars - and I mean Henry Ford old cars. There were defunct helicopters, train cars, bikes, plumbing ripped from the guts of homes that no longer stood anywhere in sight; reclaimed by the shifting dunes no doubt. But there they were, things without places, fallen into dusty voids. And that's how things have gone for me. Things that were status, that I had to have - all nameless and dusty somewhere. Covert gifts from my ex-husband that hadn't been pure in their presentation. Lovely jewelry that was given as apologies of infidelity, furniture that was purchased as a symbol of wealth and power instead of truth and transparency. It was if Life was readying me for my journey and leaving me with less and less to carry or concern myself with along the way.
Even the home I live in now (which seemed so very small after moving from a sought after huge home) seems far too big and there are perhaps only a handful of things I would cling to should it all go to pot. I'm sure those will find there way to nothing eventually as well.
When I began this journey I became friends with a woman named Veronica. She had invited me to a self-empowerment group. It quickly became evident that it was empowerment, yes, but it was also a loose group therapy/discussion. It was there that I met the facilitator, Elise. (Incidentally Elise by name is a form of Elysian as in the Elysian Fields where the great warriors go to rest.) She had us discuss different things. What were the things that held us back? Why did we feel we were either unworthy or undeserving of our true selves? Then one night she had us draw a picture of ourselves as we would appear in our greatest empowerment; our true self. Let me start by saying I am no artist. But I did the best I could and really got into it. When it was over we were to share these pictures with the group. I smiled in anticipation because I really loved that picture. It was so very me.
When I turned it around to the group there were a few audible gasps. It was an image of my face and neck set against a backdrop of ocean with different blues, greens, and grays swirling about me. This gave way to a subtle orange-pink sky leading to a sun on the left and a celestial goddess moon on the right. The water held stars drawn in navy. My red hair swirled around like a wildfire in the same tidal patterns as the water. My eyes were blue and clear and I used a burnt sienna crayon for freckles. Around my neck was a black corded necklace that held a round pendant the same color as the glints in the sea. It wasn't anything I owned, it was created in that moment for the perfect vision of myself.
Eventually the group disbanded as it's purposes had been achieved. We all went our separate ways. A year or so later I took my boys to LBI which had become a soul refuge for the three of us quite a few years and counting. We three and the Sea. Part of our enjoyment is to soak up the creativity of local artists and furniture makes in little shops that dot the island. We rarely buy anything but we all seem to come away with ideas and a good feeling. This particular trip found us in a glass studio. The name of it is Swell Glass, however it now calls Surf City its home as opposed to my beloved Beach Haven.
So we went in without expectations to simply 'check it out.' I sort of second guessed the decision with two young boys in tow. Two high energy kids in a glass studio?! What kind of a mad woman was I?! But they sort of got into it. There were displays they could touch, and little blips about glass being baked, blown, or blasted to the earth as lightning touched the beach. We were rounding up to leave when my oldest son saw small pendants for sale. I passively watched him sift through them and then he just stopped. "Mom, you need to buy this one." He said it so calmly, so exactly, that I went over to have a look. I stood there for a long moment staring down at a creation of bluish green glass with sand from the beach baked into it. It was brilliant. As I held it I felt overwhelmingly hopeful. Not wanting to spend the money, I put it down. But his eyes were fixed on mine. "No mom, you have to." And he was correct. I carried it to the register and the artist said, "Ah, lovely, it's definitely you." Then she cut a black hemp cord and threaded it through the small metal loop that had been baked into the glass. I have worn it almost every day since.
It's my amulet/talisman. It wards off, and brings energy to and I, in turn, give energy to it. I have sat under many a full moon on that beach wearing it. It is a symbol of the sea, of our refuge, of my vision. It trumps any of the diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires that were gifted to me under covert emotions. It is true and forged from nature by an artist from the sea. I truly stand naked without it. For now.
On the just path I believe we find our way back to ourselves.
Namaste
