“… but rather that it is the intangible things that imprint on us and we imprint on others that are most important… allow that magic to spread to your soul and enlighten you spiritually.” ~ Bear Medicine Walker / omtimes.com
Often our lessons in life come through illness. We all go through these experiences. As well as our ancestors, loved ones and friends have. My illness has taught me a mindfulness of others who have gone through similar experiences. A family member or a friend that went through illness and died. Wasn’t it Madam Blavatsky who said, “We have neither friends nor enemies only teachers?”
An illness may be only a Physiology illness but I am experiencing mine as more. My illness is in the area of my heart. It is in my lungs and esophagus. The area of our hearts and lungs are what connect us to our friends, family and ancestors. As practicing mindfulness, it is helping me to see that all relationships are what Madam Blavatsky taught. Also that we all have a dark and light side.
Today I am writing an essay about two people who were, and still are, a big part of my life. I experienced their dark side and light side. Their joy and sadness are with me. I am hoping that this Tibetan Buddhism subtle mindfulness will help my two relationships that have passed on. In return helping me to let go of resentments and promote healing. As Raven from the Native American Medicine Wheel teaches, “Be strong, have faith and remember within all things are lessons and positives.”
Today my mindfulness is focused on two relationships, my long time girlfriend Lynn and my oldest brother Steven Jarva . Both were independent, shy and creative people. They both had an addiction. Lynn died of an overdose before she turned 50. Steven Jarva was an alcoholic and I was not close to him when he died so I don’t know what illness killed him in his early 70s.
Now for the good part through they both caused me pain, stress and unhappiness. They also brought me so much fun, joy and love. This also is a mindfulness of how they experienced me in life.
Lynn and I grew up playing as a profession. We were wild as the wind. Later in life she drove me and some other friends to high school every day. She had a little brown VW Bug. She always had a tape of Crosby Stills Nash and Young on her cassette car radio.
Steven Jarva was my brother who I looked up to as a kid. He was 11 years older than I was. I painfully watched as he left our home at 18. He was a movie extra for years. He was a lady’s man and sailed on his own sail boat to Hawaii. He was a licensed scuba diving instructor. He took me sailing and I sat on the front tip or the ‘stuck.’. Flying on the waves as a seagull. He had a Ford Falcon that he raced when he was younger. I learned about the Beatles listing to his 8-track tape of Rubber Soul while he worked on the engine with his cute friends.
That is it…. mindfulness…
“Although we are typically in the habit of perceiving our world in terms of solid shapes and forms, Taoism teaches that we can train ourselves to perceive in other ways, and a good place to start is with our own human body. Though we may now experience our body as being rather solid, at a molecular level it is comprised mostly of water–a very fluid substance! And at an atomic level, it is 99.99% space–a vast (and infinitely intelligent) emptiness.” Online source …
- Sandro Botticelli (Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi) (1445 � 1510)
I slept but my heart was awake.
Listen! My beloved is knocking:
“Open to me, my sister, my darling,
my dove, my flawless one.
My head is drenched with dew,
my hair with the dampness of the night.”
I have taken off my robe—
must I put it on again?
I have washed my feet—
must I soil them again?
My beloved thrust his hand through the latch-opening;
my heart began to pound for him.
I arose to open for my beloved,
and my hands dripped with myrrh,
my fingers with flowing myrrh,
on the handles of the bolt.
I opened for my beloved,
but my beloved had left; he was gone.
My heart sank at his departure. [a]
I looked for him but did not find him.
I called him but he did not answer.
The watchmen found me
as they made their rounds in the city.
They beat me, they bruised me;
they took away my cloak,
those watchmen of the walls!
Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you—
if you find my beloved,
what will you tell him?
Tell him I am faint with love.
Song of Solomon 5: 1-8
A Matter of Choice.
I am not a feminist or a professional business woman. I took the more traditional path as a wife and mother. I am also an entrepreneur. I find I can balance the male and female within myself. Jungian Psychology calls this balancing the Anima and Animus. I am creatively involved in projects that have meaning to me and beyond myself or the extramundane. I am naturally a supportive person that likes home, intimate relationships and small pubs. My goals are based on love not profits. I am learning to be very happy to cross the bridge of financial stability and independence.
I dedicate this day to the character Maggie Paul played by Marsha Mason from the film Cinderella Liberty (1973).
Maggie Paul curtains for rainy days in our bathroom.
Papa gave mama a crystal in computer room for inspiration…
The outdoor crystal that merges with nature and the Sun.
Doing the laundry is never dull work in my home.
Sony the white mustang and me
“I’ve learned to hurl the tomahawk and ride a painted pony wild
To run the gauntlet of the Sioux, to make a chieftain’s daughter mine”
~From Elton John’s 1971 album “Madman Across the Water.” The song was written after lyricist Bernie Taupin’s first visit to America, on the first tour in 1970.
I awoke to this song playing in my head. The lyrics are in my heart always. The song brings back my memories of riding the hills of the Santa Monica mountains in the early 1970s. Nature called our names as the wild sage did hug our thighs. We rode our painted ponies wild as we sang this song aloud. We were held up and whirled into a time when everything had meaning. Schools, education, social pressures and family problems all erased. We galloped with the ghosts of a spirituality I only now begin to understand. Currently as a crone it is infusing my spirit with the wonder, beauty and sadness of life.
The Adventures of Sony and Raubie
At about 8 o’clock PM.
The unpredictable Crazy days are far behind me and the routines of life have set in. Family and cats bring the little rituals of life which brings symmetry into the chaos of living such as; racing through traffic and surviving, watching current politics and not having a heart attack, and realizing that we all die. It is comforting to know that we live in a recycling universe, or so it seems. The point being within the light and darkness of life are the routines of everyday living that does bring joy.
Last night was a normal trash night. The difference in the routine is when husband said that there are two cars parked in our unmarked-marked trash can places. The usual sounds of annoyance on his part made me think about visiting with our new neighbors and asking them to move one of the cars so we might have a place for our trash cans.
The green sweat coat with 1976 on it pulled over my shoulders and I was off. I found myself in front of the neighbor’s house. Placing a knock knock and then pushing a ring ring upon their door and door button. Something expanded when I heard the ring ring.
It was a different kind of ring ring. It being a tasteful and alluring sound. The front door was half window and I could see in as one of my neighbors looked back at me. I mumbled something about the trash cans. The neighbor’s eyes widened open. Dressed in a light blue robe, looking confused my neighbor opened the door slightly. Having a face that was angular like something out of a Pablo Picasso paining such as Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907 during his cubism period; caught me off guard.
The new neighbors had radically changed the format and structure of the house since the last owner. As the door opened there was only a white hallway that met about half way through the house. Directly on the wall before me was a giant painting of what looked like a Toulouse-Lautrec, Jane Avril Dancing painting. Yet this painting was one woman with her leg up and a giant red dress like a blooming flower. Once there were two rooms here one leading right and one left. One into a game room and the other into the kitchen. Not anymore. Straight ahead was a veil into another reality.
Our conversation was quick. I told the neighbor our problem. Nicely I was told that each of them had a masseuse come out for a special treat message and that the cars were theirs. I was also told that both of them were almost finished.
Like clockwork each masseuse left in their two separate cars. I put out my two trash cans under the crescent moon of a very dark night. Feeling nicely surreal and wondering about our new neighbors?
It may seem backwards but not from my mothering heart. My son now faces his first romantic suffering. What can I do but be silent & be there for him as he works and plays. I know his heart is broken. He must endure and become stronger and with empathy move on. To oldest son “he” is the Wild Rose…. and she is the “young boy.” It is OK to change things around…. both are not safe from the pains of love, first love!
Poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Lieder by Franz Schubert.
Receptive, illumination and synchronicity, I’m a wise old blooming flower, waiting to be pollinated, I’m receptive to what I shall become, Let life approach me, I do not have to go seeking, I have all I need to succeed, I’m a beautiful rose,
wise, good and ready.
I can be trusted, I follow things through, I speak my mind, Let the spirit of god / goddess, move over my deep dark waters.
Receptive as an open flower. Now, waiting for life to impregnate me.
“The Rose makes honey,” the rose gives honey in return.
Posted in Holly Duval Cornell's Poems & Prose
Tagged Art, beauty, Depth Psychology, Esoteric, Goddess and Home, poems, poetry, postaday, spirituality, Synchronicity, Women, Writing