Hannif

Hannif means purity, a purification process.  It is the chief pursuit of religious and spiritual people all over the world.  For me, this happens by my general attitude and by turning in the whirling dervish movement. It is powerful and it is physical and it is joyful, it is holding my heart open through these transitions, providing the path forward to a most exquisite joy.  

Today I was going to sit down and write about the experiences and insights relating to death which have been so intense here in California, and then I was moved to put down the thoughts, the pens, the papers, the books, and go outside in the gorgeous sunshine.  In my green sea colored dress and my pearl and moonstone bracelet I turned barefoot beneath an open blue sky and a blazing fire just laughing.  I turned and turned and knew, this is what Hafiz means when he says that God is making love to his dancers.  

I cannot hide it, I am really happy to be here with my family, where I have space to breathe and a landscape that sings to me.  What will come next who knows, but it is all ok really, it is just change, and with every death there is a spring to follow.

Someone put
You on a slave block
And the unreal bought 
You.
Now I keep coming to your owner
Saying,
"This one is mine."
You often overhear us talking
And this can make your heart leap
With excitement.
Don't worry,
I will not let sadness
Posses you.
I will gladly borrow all the gold
I need
To get you
Back.
~Hafiz~

Ob La Di

        

            
    

















And Joy was a long time coming....   

The Portland Rose Garden and Grandma's Birthday.  :-)

Family First

Wow what a vortex we are in right now, our little family.  My dad is very present, in my memories and nature, and in our collective heart.  He is present too in the passing generations, in our mannerisms and our faces, our names and at our gatherings.  This is a comfort.


Just about a week after the funeral, we all set out to float the Salinas River.  Kids, dogs, various floaties, sunscreen, and our bodies, we parked the car and hiked down to an inlet.  We were excited, tired, and feeling close, and then, just as we set off into midstream, a bald eagle swooped over us.  Right down the middle of the river, right over our heads, close enough to see his face, and he looked right at us, his big eyes direct and sharp.  Hi Dad!!

Kevin is very present too, in my memories, and the children's memories and in our family heart.  We remain a lovely little unity, continuous; what a blessing this revelation is!  The four of us, me and the kids, we are still a family first little group.  I still hold this value for myself, and it runs parallel to everything else which blossomed with Kevin by my side.  Maybe the blossoms fall away, maybe there is a winter, but after the hardest winters the cherry blossoms are simply prolific.  Prolific and fragrant and tender and beautiful.  This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do: to continue on, superwoman with kids in tow, the men I have loved most both gone.  I'd rather not, and then I think of a great modern dance sketch by a young Czech choreographer.

There is a body bag onstage, the dancer is inside, they roll and thrash about a bit, find the string and undo it, roll out onto the floor, scuffle around a bit with lots of newspaper flying everywhere, stand up, look around, and get back into the bag.  As the story was relayed to me, the audience sat there for a moment in silence, and then another young choreographer exclaimed, "I get it!  You are born, you come out, life is not what you expected it to be, and you go back!"

The river she is flowing, the people we are flowing, the spirits they are flying, the earth turns.  Shalom~