Quest of the Goose

The days following my mother's death have been turbulent. I have struggled to keep my balance; it has not been easy and I've failed miserably sometimes.

But such is the way of it. Grief knows no bounds, it is very like the waves of Ocean that crash to the beach. Some waves are bigger than others, and they must be ridden out. During the first few days, the waves are usually large, dark and stormy, full of debris.

As time goes on, those waves grow slower, gentler...more accepting. And here is where I find some serenity, when my heart has ridden out those destructive first waves of grief.

Early this morning, before Sun had risen over the treetops, Goose flew over, at the head of a long V formation. Wings tipped with gold, from Sun that had not yet shown his face to the rest of us, Grandmother Goose led the flock to the West...the place of rebirth on the Medicine Wheel. The West direction tells me of my responsibility to all things...and to each other. West is the direction of Wisdom.

It is a week since my mother died. As I sat on my stoop, in the early Morning stillness, I sent blessings with Goose...and thanked her for her message.

Grandmother Goose teaches how to navigate great turbulence in life. She tells me it is time for an inner quest, one where I learn, once again, that I can change nothing in others, only in myself. It is a difficult lesson for me to learn, seemingly, since I am caught up in it consistently.

She tells me of loyalty and how sometimes, loyalty can blind me to the true facts. She's also telling me this is all part of the journey of life; that I have the tools and abilities to make it through.

And suddenly, my intuition tells me I do.

It is a blinding realization.

Have I ever entered any traumatic situation as well-balanced and with as many tools as I have been given in this one? Recognizable tools?

I think I am making progress. I think my studies of messages given from the Universe are bearing fruit. Fruit that is still in the ripening stage, granted; however, I have faced family disruption these last few days with relative calm.

Families that lose the last surviving parent can go into free fall, I was told by a nurse last week. Instead of pulling together, siblings tear each other apart. That is the situation that occurred in my family last week. But it was not just my mother's death that brought about the strife, which is not new...it has always been thus.

Will that last unfortunate blowout be the end of it? I don't think so. I think each member of my family still wants to be heard, wants to be validated. I think each sibling is still clamouring for Mom's attention. And I think my mother wanted it that way, during her convoluted life.

My mother and I grew close, during the last couple of years. We grew close because I would not get involved in the strife that fueled my Mom and her daughters; I would change the subject, talk about other things. In that way, I made a conscious decision to ignore the bad and embrace the good about my mother.

My mother gradually realized the error of her ways, when she entered the Care Residence. She then had contact with others who did not believe in stirring strife in family members, for attention and diversion. But for my mother, that epiphany came too late...after a lifetime of pushing painful buttons in each daughter, only distrust met her overtures of love and apology.

And it seems only distrust remains.

But it is early days yet. My eternal flame of optimism lets me fantasize that her daughters will see that Mom tried, towards the end of her life, to walk a loving, gentle path, instead of the torturous, mountainous route she had chosen most of her life. Unfortunately, she made a Will, in an angry state, that continues to fuel the fray...one that controls generations not yet born. One that pits children against parents, one that will continue to remind her family of a mother that used control and anger and manipulation to bring her daughters in line.

Hours before her death, she asked me to write a book about her...Make them understand, she said. It is an enormous request, one that will take me on a journey that will follow my mother's life, one that will take me into a tortured mind.

And at the end of it, perhaps I will understand.

Grandmother Goose, with her message of the great quest to come, tells me I will.

Thickets

In my last home, there were many hedge- rows and thickets, home to all manner of wildlife. It seems these copses of vegetation have followed me here, to intrude upon my well-ordered garden of peace. It seems I have grown an impenetrable thicket in my mind.

A thicket is defined as a number of trees and shrubs growing close together. Sharp twigs , branches, berry vines with darting, ripping thorns, entangling bindweed vines often reside along with the trees and Shrubs. If a thicket is impenetrable, if I try and try over and over again, to find my way through it...being ripped to shreds, each and every time...

Maybe it would be wiser for me to go around it.

Or, I could cut my way through that thicket. This would be drastic...years and years of growth have gone into these Shrubs, Vines and Trees...making it impossible to see the ground, a home, still, to many creatures.

But in order to rejuvenate this dense pocket of plant matter, the one I cannot barrel my way through, the one where I have run out of strength to try...it is not a bad idea to take the pruning shears, and do some gentle pruning. The trouble is, I cannot see where one Tree begins and another Shrub ends...

The pruning may turn out to be drastic, turning this wooded area into a neatly trimmed park- like setting, a delight to my eye and soul, with merciful, benign order to the intertwining plants.

Last week, I was involved in an insanely trying time, finding myself constantly in the middle of that untrimmed thicket. I do not like to disturb the order of things; if I had my way, I would be in the middle of a well-defined path, the way forward clear. As would most of us.

But Creator has other ideas. Here, in this unbelievable place, I was being stabbed by unsuspecting Vines that suddenly appeared, by branches without leaves that jabbed at my eyes..

So, lately, I have been the recipient of messages from Spirit; I think the belief is that I have better skills than I do at deciphering them, or perhaps I require the practice. The messages do heighten my awareness.

I was visited by Hawk and Snake, last week. Both were involved in a dangerous struggle. Traveling along a mountain- ous stretch of road to visit my family, we were held up by a vehicle that had caught fire. And so, when the traffic resumed, we were part of a long line of cars, going both ways on the narrow highway.

One of the largest Red-tailed Hawks I have ever seen suddenly rose up from the side of the road against the car directly in front of us. He had a very long Snake grasped in his claws...a Snake that was fighting with every bit of his being. The car slowed, its inhabitants shocked, but did not stop. The Bird slid and flapped away from this car; he and the Snake ended up on the road in front of our car. We did stop; and the Hawk, still grasping the struggling Snake, flew directly to my window. I looked deeply into his eyes...and then Snake impaled me with his gaze, as well.

I was awestruck. I felt the World stop and for a small moment I was in a different place. In an instant, I realized this was no ordinary occurrence...and I sent a silent Thank you to the two who were putting their lives at risk to show me their presence, with their kinds' resultant messages.

The Hawk and Snake veered off, into the thickly treed forest, and we continued, the whole episode soon out of sight.

But definitely not out of mind.

Hawk is the visionary of the Air, he holds the key to higher levels of consciousness. He sees the overall view. He reminded me to be very aware of omens and spirit messages. He shows me there is a greater intensity, than before, in the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual forces within me.

Snake...the symbol of transformation and healing...the symbol of Eternity. He is Fire medicine...ever changing, ever moving. Snake tells me my creative forces are awakening; my intuition will sharpen. He tells me I have the ability to experience life willingly...without resistance. He tells me all things are one and all things are created equally.

Both are Protectors, in the meaning of their forms. Both were involved in a life/death struggle. Air and Fire, with the element Air fueling Fire. This struggle the two were involved in puts me right back into my thicket, feeling the awful awareness of it all. And the futility, compared to Life/Death.

Fire in the car accident previous to Hawk and Snake's messages relayed enough inform- ation, put all together, for me to decide how to tackle the present thicket in my life.

I think it needs rejuvenation, I think some of those vines and dead vegetation have to be trimmed completely back, to start again, to transform this area into a place where peace and serenity are once more prevalent.

It is time to cut my losses. It is time to realize there are some parts of this tangled, twisted thicket in my mind that no longer serve...and it is time to do something about it.

In AA, there is a saying...Guard the entrance to your mind.

Some of the overgrown parts of this wooded, dark area will have to be cut...going around this particular mess of vegetation will keep it too close to the forefront. And I no longer want to be involved in this confused snarl of coiled, mixed-up vines and branches.

It is time to sharpen the shears.

Sunday Night Dream

I dreamt about my former home, last night. It was a partially melancholy dream, as journeys into the past sometimes are for me.

My old property lies on an almost three acre plot, about ten minutes from the nearest town.

This is the time of year where I would start serious clean-up of the gardens. There would be pruning of the Hedges, overgrown Trees and Shrubs, snow and wind-damaged limbs. Sometimes it took weeks, but that is the gardener's prerogative...gardens are usually a work in progress.

There were many spots in my old garden, where I could easily hide from the world, if I so choose. I lived there many years, and it is effortless to return and visit in a dream, as I did last night.

I know every nook and cranny.

In my dream, I wandered away from my house, towards the East garden. It was shaded by huge old dogwoods, an enormous Laurel hedge, Silver Birches. As I dreamed, it seemed dark, wet and foreboding. There were many fallen branches and leaves amid tangled shrubbery and blackberry vines.

Little light entered this garden, although in an awake state, I remember it very differently.

I wandered on, however, not deterred by the gloomy, dank and tangled area I was about to enter. In my dream, I moved purposefully...yet I still sensed that I was about to face a situation that might entail total awareness. I had a quick flash of the hind end of Grandfather Bear ahead of me...

Instantly, I realized that I had protection and guidance in this place, if I would remember to ask for it. Grandfather Bear, when he appears to me, is a very powerful guide...his energy signature is warm and comforting, with a musky, earthy aroma filling my nostrils. I experience instant knowledge, in a dream, a vision or a meditation, that I am required, now, to stand and face any fear I might be hiding from.

As the shrubbery and broken tree limbs closed behind me, I was enclosed, suddenly, in a dark place, where even darker fingers of brush loomed all around me...

I moved ahead, regardless, very sure now that I was meant to travel this obscure, murky path, traveling on with faith and strength and trust as my companions.

Dank and muddy, the path meandered ahead, large black objects insinuating themselves in my way. I felt wet ooze as I touched one...and realized I was in a very troubled place...a place that had felt little warmth and comfort, or had very rarely seen any gentle fingers of light.

I hear the faint sounds of a Horn ahead, just as quickly cut off. I move Branches aside. I see a still, azure Pool, surrounded by Rock, enclosed in a golden light. Many fern fingers touch the water, trailing their tips through the underground currents in the Pool.

I see a lady sitting by the water, brushing her hair. Her movements mesmerize me...I stare as her hands rhythmically brush and smooth, brush and smooth...her long red hair. She ignores me completely for awhile, continuing with her brushing.

Random thoughts and whispers twirl themselves around my senses. I am sent quick images, as I watch the brushing, glimpses of people and other beings, vistas and water. I am not able to grasp any of the dream within a dream.

As I watch, I am immersed in water, feeling as if I have plunged deep within the Pool, even if I am standing watching the Lady brush her hair. I feel bubbles of water brush my skin...I feel the water entering every part of my being, as I stand and watch.

I am not aware. I become hypnotized by her, the soft golden wash of light that glints off the Pool, like crushed glass, and the distant moan from the Horn playing so eloquently from somewhere...

Unawareness costs me. Quickly, she turns into the Crone, pointing a long trembling finger at me, shrieking with laughter. My heart pounds. I want to flee. She thrusts a branch at me, as I raise my hands in defense. I grasp the end, feeling warm energy enter my hands and traveling up my arm. Just as suddenly, she disappears, and I am once more on the path. I am turned to the West this time, the branch in my hand.

But it is a well traveled path; the Ferns and Salal carefully tended, and no Branches with their attempts to snag my clothing to be fought off. Nurse logs show their babies amidst soft, green moss. The Trees have yet to unfurl their new foliage, and a weak sunny light filters in around me. There is no anxiety present here, only a late Winter garden, a garden I once tended, waiting for word from Spring.

The notes from the Horn still sound...growing fainter now.

I awake and stretch, find my slippers and wander the darkened house, wondering about the dream. It will stay with me, this one, as some dreams will.

During the next few days, I will decipher parts of this dream; some bits have already been revealed to me. Who I call the Crone, an old lady who can fly through the air, has appeared to me before. She usually foreshadows a life changing event. Her visits are rarely pleasant affairs, because this lady is not gentle and kind.

But she usually wakens a part of me that has been sleeping.

She never fails to remind me to be aware.

And she gave me a gift this time...a branch that warmed me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

Not bad for a run of the mill Sunday Night dream.