Anniversary of July 27

Mysteries, they're everywhere, everyday. So many unexplained interconnections. A few minutes ago I read a message written yesterday, reminding us that it was the anniversary of the murderous shooting at TVUUC six months ago. I had forgotten that anniversary, yesterday at that time I did not think of it at all. Instead at that time I lay in bed, in pain and weeping bitterly, in a deep horrible darkness that had come on so quickly. I did not understand where all the pain had come from, out of nowhere, the hide under the covers headache, the eighty year old aching joints, and cramping, but none of that matched the desolation, hopelessness, and even the old demons of suicidal thinking that I had hoped were banished for good. I know these things happen to me sometimes, and I knew it would pass, which it did. I came here to write about how I got through that, how I prayed my way out of that dark place again. But before I came here to write I found that reminder of our tragic anniversary. I believe my body and my soul remembered, and heard the remembrance of our community. We are so much more interconnected than we realize.

I remember learning about trees in a forest that produce pheromone type chemicals and use them to communicate with each other in some mysterious way (what do tress gossip about?). But whether through detectable chemicals or through as yet undetectable flows of energy we are all communicating all the time. Our being is radiating out of us and our neighbors are flowing through us, even the dead with whom we hold connections continue to communicate with us, I believe. We can be swept away in the storms of our communities, even of our histories. We stand in the current of all that energy, flowing like a great river, and if we are trying to flow in a new direction, sometimes it is hard.

Yesterday when that darkness was coming on I did decide to go and pray. I am blessed to work at home and take time for myself when I need to eat or sleep or pray. Before I could even begin though it became much, much worse. I don't fight the weeping and pain, I only fight the siren call of death himself. I remembered my several cousins who committed suicide and attempted it. They did not have children waiting to be picked up from school, such mundane salvation. Finally I called out to my Goddess for help. And I found myself thinking thank you, that one silent prayer. But what was it I was thanking for? Oh yes, I remember now, it was little things, the heating blanket on my shivering body, the shelter of house, the few small contracts I have left now, on and on I could only pray thank you, thank you, thank you. And so, as mysteriously as that darkness fell, it passed. I took a hot salt bath and moved along, hunger and thirst keep coming even in the dark, and so we press on.

When I felt better I prayed again asking what is wrong, what do I need to change? And she answered, just wait, continue on, and wait. So I shall, press on with the business at hand and wait on her grace. At least I have learned that these dark spells, and I think spell is the right word, are not representative of who I am and what my capabilities are. If I were to believe in that self, I would see me as crippled by arthritis, migraines, irritable bowel syndrome, and deadly mental illness. But I know that is not who and what I am. That is the effect of a shadow that fell over me. And today I see that it was the shadow of a murderous anniversary that defiled my sanctuary. Instead I remember that I am safe and I am able, I am joy and I am able. It is a mantra, a sanctuary of prayer unceasing. When the darkness falls indeed it seems hopeless to find a way, stumbling and cold. But that is only the night, it is not me. I am the light and the light casts out darkness. So I am able again today.