June 29, 2018
There are old souls who live among us. Those who are a little wiser and kinder, who move through life with a knowing most don’t. I know who they are because when I look into their eyes and engage in conversation, I can see deeper into them because there is depth to be seen. And when I listen to their words, my heart expands and opens a little more than it was before.
I knew this man once, he was a light in this world. From the first time I met him, his hello hug and face enveloping smile put me at comfortable, safe, ease. He was a good man and I loved him from the start.
Knowing him was easy also because one of the most bad-ass, powerful, wise, intentional, inspiring, women I have ever had the honor of calling a friend, had found her heart, in his.
Even before I met him, I could see in her… theirs was a love that transcends. I don’t think most people ever experience love like that. But Virginia did. She glowed incandescent with the kind of kindred connection only long mated souls know.
At their wedding the officiant read from The Velveteen Rabbit. Two months before their wedding I had left my husband of twenty two years. My date that night was a long time friend who had also recently left his wife.
As we sat there together, listening to how you become real when someone truly loves you, we looked at each other, both teary eyed, reached for each other’s hands, and grounded together.
That afternoon John and Virginia inspired my hunger for a love and a true partnership like theirs. I needed, I wanted, to be loved and love in return until I felt real again.
Many moons ago I hosted a winter solstice gathering at my home. My fold all gathered to celebrate the lengthening of the days. Women, men, children… we made black bean soup with sour cream stars to thank the winter and projects of light to welcome back the sun.
It had been raining on and off for days and it looked as if we’d be casting our circle indoors. Then as dinner finished, the rain eased, and the clouds began to dissipate. We gathered our kids and as we stepped into the courtyard under the great, old gingko tree, the full moon smiled upon us and illuminated the night.
Quietly, all of our uncomfortable, awkward men folk retreated to the safety of the kitchen where they didn’t have to participate in our ritual. Where they could sip their beers from a safe distance and not get any solstice on them.
All the men but one.
John stood with the Pagans, the Wiccans and the undecided. He stood with the women and the children in our cast circle. He joined all the women as we held hands and the children swirled round and round. He joined us as we blessed the moon and the sun, the children, and the bounty nature provided us.
We went around the circle, each woman and child speaking with ease about what they were letting go from the past year and setting intentions for the new. When our circle made its way around to John, he spoke his release and manifestation like the old soul he was. Easy, comfortable, and bright.
John, taught me something powerful that Solstice about living authentically. About living life with love at its center. I witnessed what it must feel like to be at home in your skin. How a person that has figured out some heavy shit can be at ease even when out of their element.
I couldn’t tell you what he said that solstice, but I know how it felt then and I remember it even now, years later.
I’ll never forget that night, John. The luminous clouds lit by the moon and her stars, the collected rain dripping down on us from the gingko leaves, the kids all so young and joyful and you, our token man, at ease, present, and wholeheartedly participating.
A few days ago I found out he transitioned into the next. My heart is too heavy to hold up in my chest right now. I am going to miss you, John. My heart will grieve and this world will miss your light but I will carry you with me always.
See you at Solstice my friend. Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again. Blessed be.
I love writing I mean I LOVE WRITING. It’s helped me regain agency over my dark stories and celebrate my growth and joy stories. Writing helps me self-heal and has given me a place to explore my creativity and keep my sanity! Working for Our Story and Starfish Connection gives me an opportunity to do what I love and give others a place to do the same in a supported community that we built for storytellers like me.