My heart sank at hearing the news. I was completely devastated. I had worked so hard to develop of loving, nurturing relationship. Outwardly, I simply smiled and offered that it must have been a huge weight off of her shoulders.
Wendy and I have spent a lot of time together, roaming the woods, visiting the fields, writing our book. We have shared our lives, growing, learning, seeking wisdom. We have seen incredible sights. We watch in wonder witnessing natural beauty spring forth from the newly thawed soil, sprouts claw to the sky, leaves unfurl to gather the warm loving sunshine, buds burst forth into vibrantly colored flowers, flowers fade to desiccated pods holding the promise of life. The truth is that we had come to love the land and her inhabitants, with whom we gratefully worked and played.
Things change ... it is a fact of life. Wendy told me a few days ago that she felt a change coming. Quite unexpectedly, the tension broke loose ... serendipitous happenings. And, I am left to piece it all together like a large jigsaw puzzle, with a photo of the night sky framing a sliver of a waning moon.
"I sold the development last Friday ... finally." As I said, my heart hit the floor. "I know it has been really hard for you. It must be a huge weight off of your shoulders." Selfishly, I thought of all of the things Wendy and I had done to support this amazing place, the things we had experienced and learned. This is our favorite place to forage, to hunt, to re-connect with the Earth. It is our school, our cafeteria, our church, and our home. And now, or soon (within a few years), this blessed sanctuary will be reduced from 25 acres of wilderness surrounded by a sea of subdivision to piecemeal 1/2 acres parcels of tamed (tortured), suburban humanity (likely complete with McMansions for the pretentious "owners" to look dissatisfied at our efforts to homestead our little piece of heaven).
"We have to move", I told Wendy as soon as we were out of ear-shot. This comes on the same day that I was contacted by a company wooing me to accept a position that I turned down in June, and by a former co-worker who recognizes my worth and wishes to coax me to relocated an hour northeast along the coast. It also comes as difficult times have hit the dance school my daughters attend ... not that the school has been terribly financially sound for a few years now. Change seems to be brewing. It is all just a question of how long do we have to react before the choice is no longer ours.
Tonight, I mourn to the land. I mourn for our society that places so little value in anything other than that which brings value in the form of money. I mourn for the raccoons, the opossum, the fishers, the squirrels, the deer, the hawks, the great blue herons, the geese, the turkeys, the chipmunks, the fox, the stinging nettles, the Japanese knotweed, the oaks and maples, the hemlock and pines, the blueberries, the bunchberries, the wintergreen, the partridge berries, and all of the other Beings I have yet to meet ... that they will lose their homes to be displaced by people who wish only to live on the land and not with the land.
Of course, change happens. And while I mourn, I rejoice the moments we have shared with Nature, the Universe, and this wonderful place. I cherish the time we have been given and the remaining time we may have. I hold to the knowledge that every journey holds turns and twists, unexpected events that push us to realize our full potential as healers, teachers, lovers, and friends.
Thank you to the spirits of this place, that we have come to love so dearly. Thank you to the Elementals who have helped us along our journey to grow and reclaim a piece of the heritage that we have lost through the generations that have gone before. Thank you for the divine spark within each of us that pauses to watch as the lone hawk darts to avoid the protective mother birds, striving to give each of their young a chance to experience life on this remarkably beautiful Earth.
May you find peace in this life, and all of those to follow.
A Manifesto of ‘One’
9 hours ago