The closer I get to my solar return, the more I feel the push-pull nature of my astrological birth chart, which is bowl-like in form. Of course, there's an 'official' definition for what that means but what I've come to experience within my life's flow is that it very much blurs the nature, meaning, and scope of anything connected to cause & effect.
which boils down to pretty much everything. As I age I find myself actively filtering what part of 'everything' deserves my attention and greater cosmic elucidation of how I might help myself with that. I also instinctively sublimate a lot about a lot because I've been doing it since I was kid. If I didn't, I'd be just another deeply unhappy/twisted-all-around individual. And so I went out with my camera and focused on learning more about how I might get it to merge with my visual desires without focusing on the technology. Photography's just one of the meaningful aspects of my life where I like to remain purely intuitive.
So I'm outside walking around not thinking too much, taking pictures here and there and then I hear a car, and a young female voice. The two iris pictures below are what I was focused on at first. After saying automatically 'just a minute'.
The first picture I wanted to snap: a newly unfurled siberian iris. As I was standing there, I thought about a magical connection this plant medicine spirit began offering me years ago. I was planning to make that story today's post, but now I'm making it about a human energy exchange of a crown-to-crown nature. When I do tell the story sometime this coming week, then I will also link back to this post.
In between the Iris above and the bud below I said 'just a minute'
a young woman/college student had come with a survey about school text books and other learning aids. There is currently a huge issue in my town about the 'travesty' of continuing to teach critical race theory in the schools. And although I could look at her and guess what she would or would not be surveying, I didn't presume, assume, or simply elect to 'know'. I asked if there was anything in the survey about critical race theory - gearing myself up to opt out/have a nice day if there was.
(she thought I was gearing up in the other direction. but not for more than another 20 seconds or so.)
After I mentioned drama in the town, she went into all sorts of micro-expressive defensive posturing and her voice rose, so I realized she had some degree of personal safety in mind as she asked the specific ultra-carefully worded questions she did. I answered, and in the process started to cry. I do this all the time now. Specifically over racism, in one way or another.
When I became visibly upset, she felt responsible. I sensed the more we spoke the more I was becoming a response-ability to her, and so I did what I could to help us both disconnect from it. Because I was also feeling response-ability to be crying on her time while at her job. Also, me speaking as I did when she herself was in work-mode. etc.
She was looking at this:
And while we looked at these two gardens and each other, we spoke all the way around the many things she clearly couldn't say, or otherwise address, given her intentional mission/job. I cried - angrily, for the most part - and since this has become a regular part of more days than not, I had trouble knowing how to accommodate someone having a distress/response-ability flare in response to my own distress. The reactive part of my crying times is purely verbal. And as I said, we talked all around what we were actually communicating to each other. Each of us feeling equally response-able for the condition we'd leave one other in, and doing what seemed possible to insure such condition would be 'good'.
She needed nourishment and solace, too. I could see it and feel it and that's why we talked while she kept one foot in the door, probably having a certain unrealistic quota to meet. She kept trying to engage me with something to do - something to tangibly move me from tears to okay-ness. (so newly emergent women are still doing that to themselves and each other, I now realize. tears are not okay. sigh.)
I told her my tears were a good thing, and that I come out to this particular garden every morning because being in the space fully opens me. It supports me while I grieve over things that are equally heartbreaking, and personally terrifying, the rest of the time. I said I took the picture in part for documentation, and in other part to share here - to share what was beautiful in my world - such as the gardens/flowers here.
and she said: I've never seen such beautiful gardens full of so many flowers in my life. She asked for the blog name. maybe she will come and it will help her disperse whatever it is that she experiences and clearly cannot share while in the midst of doing her job. It was hard for her to leave but I told her I was crying because I was able to cry, and had the time and the inclination. I told her grief is like that. And that maybe I was grieving as part of my own sacred work.
she said to me: you're really into meditation, aren't you.
I said I was, and then she said she was 'trying to get into all of that stuff,' but that everything is 'so much all the time' and she isn't sure, a lot of the time, what to do but have her life as best she can. I told her that's what meditation is, in the final analysis. She told me twice she would remember me. After the second time, I told her I'd remember her, too. She asked to know my first name. I could see hers on her work badge and used it.
(I had to promise her four or five times I was really okay, and this was just an ongoing part of my day.)
After she left I turned back to the garden for another few pictures and deeper contemplation of what had just occurred. Today the universe gifted me with the kind of random and mutually meaningful human connection that I've missed very much since lockdown and prior to vaccination. I seem to have a lot of them, proportionally speaking.
that's why i tolerate things like yesterday occurring at a higher rate than the norm - there are so many illuminated chance happenstances as well.
J. told me he doesn't think I actually do see more dark stuff than most people; he thinks it's the fact that I acknowledge what's directly in front of me instead of tuning it out because: collective unpleasantness aversion. He says every time I come home after having seen/been unwittingly embroiled within something of a legit upsetting nature, he's noticed how much detail I've absorb, and can express in an articulate way. I never thought of it that way. Have always considered my strong talents for detail absorption being simply 'what I can handle' absorbing while directly involved in moments of duress.
I took the picture above after this young woman was back in her car. She waited to see me become reabsorbed in photographs and then she waved with a smile and drove away. Before that happened she said if I happened to see her around town 'looking lost or like I'm not completely sure what's going on' to send her a good thought, or say hello.
The delicate web above is strong enough to hold water droplets. I took the picture with the awareness I was going to write this kind of post. I wanted the delicacy and strength of the web to speak to the connections women might weave, one random stranger at a time, as we move around and find our way's wending towards Summer/Winter.
I am restored.
it was a Moment for such things.