Finally, the rain we so desperately needed fell in Vermont (and fell and fell). Gratitude to the Sky Nation. Walking in the park the smell, the sound was one of delight. Color coming into leaves, layers fallen to the moss covered stone. Now we are ready as a family, plant and animal, to enter Autumn together. Phew!
Working with Snake pre-shedding means grief.
Moved to share this reflection on Martin Prechtel’s newest work …. The Smell of Rain on Dust. (This excerpt found at kzyx.org)
“Inspiring hope, solace, and courage in living through our losses, author Martín Prechtel, trained in the Tzutujil Maya shamanic tradition, shares profound insights on the relationship between grief and praise— how the inability that many of us have to grieve and weep properly for the dead is deeply linked with the inability to give praise for living.
In modern society, grief is something that we usually experience in private, alone, and without the support of a community. Yet, as Prechtel says, “Grief expressed out loud for someone we have lost, or a country or home we have lost, is in itself the greatest praise we could ever give them. Grief is praise, because it is the natural way love honors what it misses.”
Prechtel explains that the unexpressed grief prevalent in our society today is the reason for many of the social, cultural, and individual maladies that we are currently experiencing. According to Prechtel, “When you have two centuries of people who have not properly grieved the things that they have lost, the grief shows up as ghosts that inhabit their grandchildren.” These “ghosts,” he says, can also manifest as disease in the form of tumors, which the Maya refer to as “solidified tears,” or in the form of behavioral issues and depression. He goes on to show how this collected unexpressed energy is the long-held grief of our ancestors manifesting itself, illuminates the work that can be done to liberate this energy so we can heal from the trauma of loss, war, and suffering. At base, this “little book,” as the author calls it, can be seen as a companion of encouragement, a little extra light for those deep and noble parts that inhabit us all.”
Ritualizing our grief and expressing it in a way that affirms the life-death-life cycle, in a way that captures an artistry, what Prechtel refers to as an “eloquence” brings healing to all creation.
Which brings me to this Fine Lady: Mayan goddess, COATLICUE.
One of my spirit practices is devotional orgasm. RIsing energy generated during orgasm (everything up to and including climax) is sent out to its selected destination. Possibilities here are limitless but over the last few years one “repeat customer” (let’s call her!) has been Coatlicue…. Each time she presented herself in meditation, I agreed. Times when I thought I was ready to send out to Shakti or Buffalo Woman or that ratty parking lot downtown or to injustice or any number of other worthwhile recipients-- there she was. And those snakes!
I suspect she’ll be coming around this way soon, the turn to Autumn, the realization of the last layers of skin to be shed.
How can you express your grief with artistry, eloquence, gritty and holy?
(You have my permission to copycat my method.)