Christin's Words from Sunshine Hill

If it is to be music
you must be present to it, must offer to it
a profound self-remembering.
-from Altar Music

Friday, March 30, 2012

MIST

Rain falls on Sunshine Hill watering John's newly tilled garden and washing the delicate flowers of the plum tree. I'm packing for a trip to be with my sister who has been having some difficult times with side effects of cancer treatment. Looking out my window I see Sammie and Ken's hill, but Ken isn't there anymore. He left this earth on March 9th, and now Sammie is finding all the places he occupied quite empty. The process of being widowed is long and the realization of it arrives moment by moment.

The gray fox continues to visit, has been joined by a mate, and also by a feral calico cat whom all of us including MoMo find intriguing enough to hope she stays around and hunts gophers for us. So far we can only look through the window at one another.

During March I was guest teacher at the Red Madonna site--an online community of creative spirituality for women founded by artist, Shiloh Sophia. I'm strongly considering sharing my "teachings" at that site with you who join me here. I'm not sure if they will transfer easily or at all. But I can try that out once I reach my sister's house in Minnesota.

I'm also wanting to get back to work on my new project, THE YEARNING: A SPIRITUAL JOURNEY.

Today I'm pensive. This occurs because I'm in-between. Much of me already is beside my sister. The rest of me lingers beside John. Liminal spaces, where time, space, and identity become misty.

Be well, my friends.

Christin