As
I approach the Autumn Equinox or Mabon, I am reminded of the work that must be
done on the ridge. The physical tasks are many and with my bodily disposition, it
all seems very daunting. During the warm weather months, I was able to slowly
work away on a memorial garden. I immediately named it “The Ancestor’s Garden”
as they were the ones that guided me; but as I transition the small space for
the winter, I realize how much it represents. From the placement of a rock
to the growth of a new vine, this space is very sacred. I’ve used it for my
summer hearth, a meditation destination for late night dilemmas, a reverence
for a lost brother and planted friendships for my dearest circle sisters, new
and old. How then, do I put this to rest for the cold? It feels like the parent
that moves south for the winter, leaving the adult child to deal with the
impending winds that will soon change the landscape.
This
is how treasured the newly arranged garden has become to my soul; greeting it in the morn
as the blooms open, saying hello as I return from my day of struggles and a
good night with a shot of Bushmill’s
Irish Whiskey. My space has become a steadfast friend, a conspirator of relief-
knowing that it will always be in my path as I return from each day’s journey.
The
realization that I would need to ask for help with the upcoming tasks, came to
me with a slap to the temple as I tried in vain to fix a fallen trellis the
other evening. An unforgiving tree branch knocked me on the side of my head and
left the inevitable goose egg.
I
am struggling.
The transition of this garden represents the
changes that are upon me that I must go forward with. Asking for help when you are the usual giver
of such is not always comfortable.
With
that, I retreated to my in-door space.
I took control of my daughter’s old bedroom
some years back and made it in to my “arte of the craft” room. It is overflowing with aspects of my
workings, books, music, dance costumes to list a few, but dedicated to my
Ancestors, Spirits and Guides to whom I speak with on a daily basis. I poised
the question to them (Ancestors, Spirits and Guides) and they never lie to me…sometimes
they speak in riddle and I must decipher what they are trying to say. But they
never leave me without. My relationship with them is built on trust; this is
not a one way street. We rely on each other to communicate and to do the work;
and like most relationships, this took time to build. It was not a light the
candle come what May situation. I had to prove myself and sincerity to them,
and learn to listen….
I
heard them loud and clear.
My
lesson from them is this: To be a healer you need to be healed. To understand
pain, you need to feel pain. To be able to help others, you need to ask for
help.
So
today, 24 hours after my first surgery since my car accident, I can reflect
back on the lessons of the last 2 years. The spiritual growth has been immense.
Growth is not painless, if that was the case, we would not resist it. However,
knowing that my pain is also a phase (sometimes a long one) gives me the
gumption to push ahead.
The
transition of my garden, my summer space, needs to be shared with those that
love me and look to me for kinship. What a perfect place and time to ask for
help and celebrate Mabon, the birth place and date of my circle of Sisters.
