Tag: Easter

an open poem…

“Aries and Viriditas” original artwork by Katharine Weinmann

…to a world-weary empath

you can’t leave Earth yet

~ because I just flipped ahead about
a hundred pages in your story and I read
that someday you will be the reason someone else
doesn’t give up on their life

I’m sorry to spoil the end of your epic tale

~ but someday you will be the one who ignites
the blaze in another person’s heart that
won’t ever be put out again

don’t complicate the plot of your story

~ you are here to be lamplighter that hands out
little bits of your flame to ensure the rest
of the world doesn’t exist in darkness

I know you have been scorched so many times

~ to love the world is to sometimes be burned at
the stake by others who mistake your gift
of compassion as a personal weakness

I know it’s not easy to be a bringer of light
to those who have become addicted to shadows

~ but we need you to be a gardener of effervescent seeds
that you will perhaps never see grow into burning rosebushes
that can be seen from space

Oh, my love, don’t give into the calling despair

~ set your life on fire with kindness and watch how many
other people come out of their caves to sit by your
campfire heart to share their own stories of survival

Oh my love, you are my favorite element

~ john roedel ~

It’s Easter Sunday. Cold, with a skiff remaining of the crusty snow that blew in on Thursday, and sunny. We were treated by our friends to a quintessential Easter brunch: locally sourced smoked ham and scalloped potatoes, sauteed asparagus, hot cross buns, and bread pudding with maple syrup. While flowers remain hidden here, a solitary bird, perched high within the branches of the still-bare alder tree, serenaded both our coming and going. A “slow” meal, interspersed with watching the antics of their cats, and our always edifying conversations, with the window open feeling the gentle breeze and hearing the birdsong, I felt the day’s hopeful promise.

Now home, and after a nap (I’ve been plagued with early waking for the past few weeks – The recent full moon? An upcoming solar eclipse? Excitement with Tuesday’s trip? Editing? Anxiety anticipating the long-time-in–coming meeting with a friend on Good Friday, one that allowed us both to lay down our metaphoric load of disappointment and grief?), I turned down the furnace and opened wide the windows to invite in Spring’s energy to displace Winter’s. A bit of packing, tending to correspondence, and this blog, one held in the draft folder for a day when time is short, concentration spent.

John Roedel is a self-described “Facebook poet,” sharing his bittersweet, aimed straight-for-the-heart compositions, often in the form of a photo of a first draft scratched in pen on the lined page of his notebook. On the heels of today’s brunch conversation, one that weaved back and forth through life’s joys and despairs, this felt like the right one to post. Too, that it speaks to his “favorite element” fire, which is Aries and the astrological sign currently ruling our planet. Aries is my sign, too. Fire my element and dosha. And as a self-described “empath,” at times world-weary – the trifecta of reasons for sharing it with you, many of whom I suspect are, too, world-weary empaths.

So, take heart, dear ones. Continue to set your life on fire with kindness and know we’re all in exceptionally good company.

Much love and kindest regards.

Gethsemane

GETHSEMANE

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until
morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.

The cricket has such splendid fringe on his feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.

Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did,
maybe
the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t
move.
Maybe the lake far away, where once he walked
as on a blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.

Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could
not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be part of the story.

– Mary Oliver –

It’s Good Friday, Passover, and mid way through Ramadan. To my way of thinking, the convergence of such significant holy days across these Abrahamic faith traditions signifies an energetic, archetypal potency, transcending dogma. So suggests Mary Oliver in the last stanza of this poem…the inevitability of utterly human error and vulnerability…as if written in the stars for all to unfold as it must.

I’ve written here in the past that I was born on Good Friday. For those who follow the traditions, this doesn’t translate to having a Good Friday birthday every year, though I have had several. Too, I’ve shared how having a birthday on what many view as the darkest day of the Christian calendar gave way over the years for much consternation and contemplation. Now I simply accept it as a meaningful thread within my personal narrative.

This year my birthday is tomorrow, Easter Saturday. Nearly three decades ago, I intuitively evolved the creation of a “coming of age” ceremony for that day, one held within the earliest traditions for baptism. For me, the declaration before my God that I was from that day forward accepting responsibility for my life…that I would now become my own “god mother.” This culminated in legally changing my name to honour the women after whom I’d been first named, and taking a third in gratitude for another who had championed me as a young girl. I became Katharine Maria Anneliese, names that took some time for me to publicly claim, and that I have been growing into ever since. Names that, in my opinion, age well with the promise and potential for ever becoming. Names that every day honour the ancestors, ancients and angels who guide me.

In a most lovely, spontaneous revealing, I learned a few months ago that I share a birth date with poet whose work I admire. Given some other shared affinities and affections, we’ve concluded a soul connection at work that might eventually bode well for some poetic collaborations. In the meantime, I send her my love and warmest wishes for a lovely April 8th birthday.

Much love and kindest regards, dear friends.

sunset on Erg Chebbi, Morocco’s sub Sahara, photo credit: Kimberly Wise Tyrell

A Holy April Blessing

Perspectives with Panache, 2005

During these days of “compassionate retreat,” this April, across holy faith traditions, invites in a closer relationship to the divine, however we know that to be.  Too, the “super” full moon in Libra – the biggest of the year – with its astrological emphasis on balance, harmony, and being in right relation with all, welcomes Passover and Easter and amplifies the significance of these holy days.  I take a moment to reach out from our home – where we are well – to yours…

May you be well, safely tucked in with your beloveds.

May the moments of anxiety and unease be few and far between.

May grief with what is now over and what is now lost, be borne with an open heart,
and flow through you as the fresh watered river.

May deep rest, fresh air and sunshine restore you and be like
the warm embrace of missed family and friends.

May good food nourish your body,
favourite memories and meaningful conversations feed your heart and mind.

May the slow and quiet bring you clear insight and deep illumination,
helping you discern your next wise step.

May gratitude and generosity, kindness and grace be your constant companions.

– KW –
2020