Our mother Mickey Brown passed away on June 11, 2021. She was 95. Her transition took from May 23 – June 11. 19 days. On June 6th I sensed that she was struggling. My feeling sensation was that she was trying to swim in heavy waves, swimming toward the light. I saw the light as the sun going down, all but obscured by the horizon of the ocean. Above it a perfect black sky.
I painted her a path of light through the waves, a safe route to be received into that perfect dark sky. The green line along the horizon is iridescent, a permeable line between our world and the next. I had one canvas in my new studio and my acrylics. No brushes so I purchased some craft brushes for $.89. It is amazing what is possible when the desire is great enough.
Leaving Dry Land, Transition was completed on June 6. Mickey mom passed on June 11. Good work Mom, what a swim.
I went out of my way to see and hear popular poet David Whyte. I could read his poetry in his exquisite backpack book, but no, it was his voice I wanted to hear.
I fought rush hour traffic that day to see him and to hear him read his own work. I wanted to understand his internal path to his unique ideas. Perhaps he is informed by his mother’s ancient Irish tradition; I don’t know, but he takes me new places.
David Whyte arrived to a full house, and he read my favorite poems. For over an hour, his hypnotic voice filled the room. People paid rapt attention-writing in tiny journals, falling under his spell.
When he finished, 300 people started to breathe again, looking at each other with amazement in their eyes. After the reading, David signed books, standing to greet people close up, face to face. He had an exchange with each person including me.
I commented that the theme of the evening seemed to be children. He agreed, and I gave him a warm smile of thanks.
“Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn
As I stepped away, my hand moved to the collar of my hooded coat. Precisely at the moment I left David, my hand found a long lost silver feather pin under my collar, a precious pin, given to me with love that I thought I had lost.
I thought: a magical intended coincidence!
In the next moment my hand went to my pocket, and there I found a long lost turquoise bracelet.
It might be easy enough to say, “Well Cheryl, you only wear this dressy Pendleton coat a few times a year.”
But I know, during the time with David Whyte, something in me slipped through into a parallel reality. My new year cycle initiated just then. The old year ended, and the new year began with recovering something invisible yet visible and sacred.
As my Meditations on Gratitude online class with Laura Valenti continues, we are encouraged to look around us at everyday moments and objects as worthy a moment of gratitude. I have been taking photographs around the property to celebrate this little corner of the world one quiet corner of June 2016.
I like this shot because it conveys the sense I always have of our house being like a longhouse, full of mythological beings, adrift with stories and dreams.
Cheshire Cat: Oh, by the way, if you’d really like to know, he went that way.