Name: In Memory
Birthday: June 17, 2024 - but also sometime before that I can't identify on a clock
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Who is here - who isn't?
Air potato leaves, Spiderwort leaves, Rosary Peas, Fig leaves, (I think) Turkey Tail Mushrooms, rocks, Jungle Flame flowers, Pandanus fruit, sand, the Beech Sheoak needles that fall endlessly as I create whether I want them there or not, Loquat tree that stands watch from behind, the Red Bellied Woodpeckers song mixing with the nearby highway as the soundtrack - who isn't here? The more I track, the harder it is to exclude anything - any collaborator.
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This Summer is full of transition. Beings. Life phases. Comfort levels. Reality's forms and shapes. In my world, it is not an easy time - I wonder how the summer feels for you?
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Cancer scares, the deaths of the loves ones of loved ones in my extended community, parenting through summer break, financial stresses (WHY do kids eat more as they get older?! π°), health challenges - it actually makes sense to me that the summer brings such fiery, alchemical circumstances. Spring does us a favor by making sure we're in the most stunning conditions imaginable - every tree has flowered in the last few months - to sustain us through the heat that summer brings.
The season has been demanding that I let myself slow down and contemplate acceptance. Iβve been sick for almost two months and I feel fatigued most of the time. I go outside to run the river and both of us have shorter bursts of energy as the sun presses down on us. Limitation is a reality that I find hard to accept here, and Iβm learning a painfully slow, hard lesson as I am guided by the ecosystems Iβm a part of (human and non-human) - to accept what is and to allow small treasures to emerge alongside the discomfort and frustration.
Devotion to the Mystery is a thread of sustenance for me - so I turn to what I CAN do when Life is calling me to carry what cannot be fixed. So I forage, I gather, I clear a space on the ground with my hands - I contact the messy bit, first things first. I offer it all back to Life through beauty and praise and thanks-giving and a slow, willing adherence to the spot Iβm nailed to. These actions do not change what is inherently Mystery, but they do invite meaning making.
I donβt always PREFER it, but I am working on accepting that sometimes, all I can do is bow to the teacher in all circumstances, and place Jungle Fire next to Turkey Tails and be willing to be healed in any small way by the poetry in that. Something so vibrant and alive and exciting and vulnerable as Jungle Fire flowers, next to something so soft and light and dead - a mushroom that actually only lived because a branch died. I drop Rosary Peas onto the Pandanus Fruit and surrender to letting them fall where they may in the crevasses - to not having control, to reality over preference - to my responsibility to choice in my perception. Itβs hard for me to miss the significance of all of that. So I donβt miss it - I do my best to include it in my mind, in my gaze, in my heart. And when I forget - I pull up this photo and I remember.Β
Practice and all is coming - they say.
I think - I think - I understand.
May I surrender to Lifeβs shapes with faith. May beauty be a portal to memory, presence, and devotion.
For Granny, for Day, for Cookie, for Birgitta, for Lilly, for Dave, for Hannah, for Apollo, for you, for me, for us, for Life.
Many bows πππ
- Stefanie
PS. In two weeks, it will be one year since Apollo died. In light of that, it feels right to share this little glimpse into what has unfolded in my Life since then, as I think it is important in telling stories about living in Apolloβs memory. I look forward to introducing the snoot in the picture - soon.