Someone I cared about who was part of my spiritual tradition, someone who had been initiated into this ancient and complex, simple and demanding lineage of people entrusted with the unique gift of working with weather: she sent an email yesterday.
Last year, my husband was driving home from work across an expressway bridge during rush hour. He was hit from the side by a car that didn’t yield. As his pickup spun 180 degrees and slid down the railing toward a precipitous fall into the river, his only thought was, “How will I get out of this one?”
The cacophony of politics last October 2020 had brought me down, but I knew my feelings of disillusionment and emptiness would fade away as I stepped into a weekend of ceremony.
Last night, I had a dream about rats. My husband and I are constructing a new building near our home that will be an altar room for our traditional work. In the dream, the building was there, all complete and filled with our altars and furniture…and rats.
This past weekend, I faced some big challenges. I felt like I was representing a lot. I was the leader of an event, and pulling it off during covid times and with other challenges felt monumental. I just didn't feel up for it. Not only was I inadequate, but I also felt alone. How do people do this?
