OK if you read yesterday's post, you know I'm struggling a bit. Today I got the 2 of the 1-2 sucker punch via FB. Boo. And Boo-hoo. I hate that this friendship has reduced me to a weeping weak-feeling woman since I am neither of those things. So after I got up off the floor where I was laying after the sucker punch and boohoofest, I decided it was just time to make some changes. Past time really.
I wrote what I wanted to happen around this situation and folded it into a medicine bag that I have had, but that never felt like it was mine. Added a few things to the note and set off for my favorite trail knowing that I would be able to leave the bag so that the ancestors could deal with what remained. I hike this trail alot, when I am stressed or in a crappy mood. The loop is maybe 1 mile. And I hike it until I feel better. There have been more than a few 4 loop days. When I got there I sat in my car for a long time trying to convince myself to do/not to do this thing. That little voice trying to convince me that to not do this thing would make me feel better. That I should instead go home and eat a donut. Finally I got fed up with that little naysaying voice, told it to shut the fuck up and jumped out of the car before my resolve weakened. It has been 4 long weeks since I have been able to hike and part of me was excited at the prospect of loping the woods on this cool spring morning. As I walked I spoke my intentions of compassion and separation to be woven into a bit of intentional magic to go with the bag. It was a good way to vent out those things that existed under the weeping and boohing. Yunno the ones that exist that create the weeping and drama, but that are really no ones "fault".
The trail is a loop that starts on a hill and goes about halfway down to the Ohio river. As I hiked, I noticed the bag got heavier and heavier. Part of me couldn't wait to get rid of it. Yet every time I stopped at a likely place there was a visceral NO that accompanied the thought of letting go, of finishing the ritual I had started. So on I walked until there were no more words that came. About 3/4 of the way around on my 2nd trip around the loop I stopped to stretch in the sun just before the uphill section to come. This little spot felt so good to me. I knew it could hold what I had to shed. About half-way up the hill on the right off the trail, there was a beautiful little tree who graciously accepted the care of my bundle. I kissed it once, gave it over to her and let it go. OK, truth be told, there was another boohoofest altho it was a minor one.
I hiked back down to the trail and started the sloping uphill climb. 2 things hit me as I climbed. I felt lighter. And I felt stronger. My legs now easily eating up the trail in long strides so that the last 1/4 of the trail was finished in no time. I paused at the bench and sat for a moment. Not because I was winded, but because the moment called for sitting. In that quiet I hear a familiar voice say Make the loop again. I have gobs of energy still and my legs feel fresh. So off I go.
This time the trail feels fresh, green and alive. The trees, the birds and the lone doe I startle all greet me as I pass. The wind rustles the leaves of the towering oaks and their words are wafted to me on the breeze - a hundred year old song delights my ears and wipes away the residual heaviness of a morning spent in tears. It is their gift to any who listen. And I had been so caught up that I had heard none of it on the previous two laps. For the first time of the day a smile tugs the corners of my mouth as I close my eyes and just listen. I don't know how long I stood there and don't care either. It was the best music I have heard in ages. I turn away from the river to make the climb for the 3rd time. My legs still feel bouncy and fresh. As I walk up the hill, I do not acknowledge the bundle where it hangs in the tree. It is no longer mine. A few steps further down the trail I am joined by a presence I have never met - an elderly woman. One of the Grandmothers.
She keeps apace with me as I continue climbing. Her presence is the soul of comfort. Before we part ways she says one thing to me - The kind woman follows the path of her heart. The smart woman follows the path of her mind. A wise woman follows both. This it seems is my first lesson of crone wisdom.
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