2015 found our world rewritten and upside down as we tried to make sense of tremendous loss. 2014 was filled with so many animal and friends’ deaths we just couldn’t fathom that the following year more of our animals and everything we owned would follow suit. Like two lost orphans, our cats, plants, and a few worldly goods left in hand, standing on friends’ doorsteps.
Sometimes scared, sometimes hungry, we clawed our way back up to reasonable standings. Doug took a job and I opened my apothecary once again. Our beautiful apartment looks out across the mountain range and the bells on our shop door ring often.
In the harshest and absolutely worst of times it is hard to see past the tunnel of fog and disbelief of such circumstances. We spent last year learning in tremendous ways that we couldn’t of done in our place hidden away. We had time to go to the park and go swimming and spend golden hours with our granddaughter playing, and listening to music by the pool with friends. One whom would pass away a few months ago. We had time to ponder our dreams and what we wanted to accomplish.
I spend many hours with a friend who is Comanche. He was raised on the reservation being taught ceremonies and songs and healing. He is a spiritual advisor. I recorded his stories and ceremonies and many invaluable lessons for my own work in those moments of uncertainty, where all the time in the world could be spent on his couch listening to what wood to use in ceremony and how to protect myself against the things I would be working to clear, unbeknownst to me at the time.
We moved in with another friend, a Hopi man of great standing in the community. Another spiritual healer and trusted friend. His land was magical, things so unexplainable I hesitate to write them, maple trees that moved without wind, spirits claiming the land, grasses intertwining through my slips and skirts as I sat in an energy vortex, keeping me attached to the ground. I learned things from him as well, timeless and valuable lessons for my work.
We learned the value of saving, of being in a place that encourages our power and helps us serve those in our community with our gifts. We know where we belong and what we want (chickens and a garden) and even though we can’t afford to buy a place yet, perhaps we can find a place to rent in our town soon for a few years before we can. A place near our shop where we can work and continue to learn. Doug and I can work together once again.
As it stands, I see my beautiful daughter’s face each time I get to my shop. Each day I share moments and work with her. Seeing her gifts come forth like a rose in bloom is breathtaking. My three year old granddaughter plays and welcomes customers. All these things could not be without the travesty of last year. And now we trust the universe to provide a small place in the country for us. And we embrace change and lessons in all forms and in everything have gratitude. For life is so magical, don’t you think?