today i had a strong urge to walk on the beach (that and the poodle was using her mind powers to beg me)
and when i arrived there i met my friend M.
M has seen more than her fair share of pain. Her eldest and beautiful son died of a brain tumor when he was 7. Life is hard for her in many many ways and yet she is such a radiantly beautiful soul. She has a rich connection to spirit and a voice angels would scrap over. She is a sister in Elizabeth Cunningham and Maeve. She feels the books in a different way than me but can connect in that deep river way too with the energy of Maeve.
i hadn't expected to see her there and thought "ahh so that is why i needed to come"
M had tears in her eyes and our hug was long and deep. And she told me there was a dead whale on the beach. That the Department of Conservation had placed a sign near it saying they were coming to bury it - Maori were coming to do karakia (blessings and prayers)
and then i knew that is why i had come.
And seeing M and her connection to death and spirit, her courage and wisdom, her song and her sadness and then hearing about the whale felt so connected.
I walked with the poodle onto the beach and the whale was very near.
A young sperm whale - it's skin all rubbed off in the wild surf. Anchored to the shore. Being reclaimed, cell by cell by the sea.
and i wondered what to do. How to approach what felt like a sacred site. and this is wherer courage comes in.
Ever since i was a child i have had strong urges to complete actions that seem unrealistic but powerful. I learned to deny the voices in my head as not sensible and untrue. Denying my feelings of connection to trees and stones and the sea as silly and childish and imaginary.
But since i met Maeve, and surrounded by people like M (and that is no consequence that their names start with the same letter) and have lived my creative urges more and more each day, i have found the courage to listen, once again to those urges and voices.
and so i stopped. i grounded myself. Felt the sky and the earth connect through me.
Then i approach Tohora (whale) and as i watched it's form being gently swayed and shifted i felt a song in me.
And i found my courage to sing.
i sang a song of release and acknowledgement and honour. I offered Tohora a path back to family and honoured it's becoming part of the all that is.
Part of me sat critically watching muttering about how ridiculous i looked and who did i think i was...
but i still sang 'til it felt done.
and then i walked on.
and as i usually do i collected rubbish.
but this time, all along my path were heart shaped rocks.
they felt like an appropriate offering to the spirit of the whale. With my courage fully up (and the beach to myself and the waves making huge heaving sounds) I sang to the songs, about their task and my blessings. I collected as many as i could carry and turned back toward the whale. I still heard the voice telling me what a wanker i was for doing this - but i did it anyway.
And as i turned i saw a stone with the shape of a whales' head. And it felt like a gift to me - showing me that what i had done was seen and appreciated.
As i placed the stones on the sign (kinda hoping the DOC workers would notice and take them with the whale) i thought Maeve might have done what i just did. Honour, sing, listen.
and i see the more courage i show, the more i listen to what others do not hear, the more i will be blessed.
i would like to offer this, dead whale and all, to Elizabeth Cunningham for all she has bought into my life.