written words
This is a story in 3 movements that i feel may be helpful to open the view in
regards to what is happening, right now, for many ... as their loved ones are 
passing over and being present with that can only happen from a distance.

First movement
It is Sunday, May 19 2003, and I am on a hike in the foothills in Boulder, CO.
I have paused about midway up to build what is called an apacheta in the
Peruvian wisdom tradition that I started to be involved with.
An apacheta is a powerpoint, something like a cairn when finished, that directs 
energy from the high Mountains down to the flat lands. The foothills have their own energy;
 as an in-between place, like any in-between ( i.e. twilight), it is a place for magic,
shape-shifting, transformation, as energies are transformed when they move from 
high to low and vice versa. 
I only lay out the initial circle for the apacheta, the day is hot, the stones are heavy
and I still have more miles to walk... but when i sit down to look  and 
take in what is around, i happen to glance down and see a  spider sitting
next to me on my right. I see that she is lifting her 2 frontlegs to the sky and even her 
head. Yes, sister, i say, thank you, and also stretch my arms and face to the sky:
Hello, Sky, hello, Clouds, hello, Blue ! i exclaim and feel, for an expanded moment,
that feeling that we often have as children, before we are educated away from
being care-free and looking at things as part of rather than separate from...
and have this moment of Infinity and connectedness and Joy that really can't be described.
After a while, i set off again and after about another 2 hours, arrive back home.
Soon after, I receive a phonecall from my sister, whose voice I may 
or may not hear only on Christmas, to tell me that my mother has fallen into a 
coma and they are not sure if she will come out of it...
Second movement
It is Friday, May 23. In the past few days, i have held ceremonies in my little 
strip of garden at the end of the property on West Pearl. It is a magical little place of 
it's own and has been a haven to me for the past 4 years.
 I have called to my mother's Spirit, over-
coming my conditioned shyness of talking aloud to Spirit.
I have told her that I love her and that i can let her go, if she wants to let go.
I repeat these words, tears streaming down, feeling torn as i cannot be there 
( in Europe ) but also relieved that I can hold space for what's happening in my
own way ... I've come to the conclusion, meanwhile, that when both the spider and I
were raising our faces and limbs to the sky, we were greeting my mother's Spirit ...
( hello, Mother !)
In the late morning, i get another phonecall from my sister telling me that they have
declared my mother deceiced. So once again, I stand in the garden, crying, calling out to
her, telling her i love her, thanking her, blessing her and all the while, there's a thought at the
back of my head : but are you okay ? Is everything alright for you?
And while i am there, standing in my little garden strip, I notice that there is a pair
of chickadees that are checking out the old plumtree ( almost but not quite dead) that
has a small cavity midway up. The tree is small, not more than 10 feet at most, and 
about 6 feet from where I'm standing. Chickadees are usually very shy birds, they like
to nest in hidden places further up and are usually quite skittish around people.
But on that day, at the very time when I am standing with my face raised to the sky
once more, silently asking for a sign from my mother to let me know - something -
these chickadees start building their nest. 
The chickadee has a certain call, a rather plaintive sounding two-tone call - 
if I had audio, you would hear it now.
This was the call that my mother used when I was little and she had been out
 to let us know 
that she had come home ...
Third movement
It is the next day. It happens to be my birthday. Acknowledging the symbolism of the cycle
coming together with my mother's passing a day before she gave birth to me long ago,
I decide to walk up into the foothills to honor her Spirit and life, her light and love.
It is very quiet in the foothills of Boulder, as the Creek fest is going on further down
and, apart from streets being blocked off, everyone is there.
The foothills at this time of year are quite magical, as Spring is in general in this rather
arid area. Things are as green as they can get here, flowers bloom, birds flit around
busily and everything is concentrated on becoming. I am grateful for my mother's
passing at such a time of year as a reminder to me of the power of the Godess
in all Her aspects and also about the unusual absence of people.
I seem to have the foothills to myself.
 When I am half-way up , i feel something 
in my back and turn around to see these huge birds gliding towards me.
Their wings are not moving as they come closer. I had been told that there were
Turkey vultures in Colorado, even in Boulder, nesting, but had not ever seen them in my
9 years living here - and did not see them since in the 15 to follow...
I sit down in awe, counting 7, which in the Tarot, you may know, signifies the Soul.
I expect them to fly over me and onwards , but instead, they start to circle around
me and then settle down in the trees around...
We sit for I don't know how long until I stand up to continue the walk upwards.
Hello Sky, hello Clouds, hello Blue... hello Mama.
This experience of my mother's passing and the signs I received was what allowed 
my previously held intellectual understanding that there is a continuum and that
Life encompasses the gates of birth and death, rather than being defined by them...
to drop into my heart and from there, into the fibers of my Being.
There were other happenings, before and after, that were part of this communication 
around my mother's passing, but i left them out. Years later, when my father passed and
I did ceremony for him ( also from thousands of miles away) ,
 I received once more a string of signs of a very different nature,
but nevertheless very poignant and clear. The thing with signs, in my experience, is that
firstly, we must ask for them. Then, when we receive them, it is up to us to acknowledge
them as such, in our hearts. All too often, some conditioned thinking will want to 
explain something away that has significance to us.
Signs can have different qualities, humorous or with unexpected
implications, but of significance to us individually. Other family members may receive
completely different communication and sometimes, the signs may be obvious to all.
The point is, when something is meaningful to you, acknowledge it and see if there's 
more to it than perhaps you're first aware of...
In this way, we can take part in the great transformational process of transitioning
that someone is going through ... we don't have to be in the same room as they are.
All we have to do is be present with, wherever we are, with heart and mind open. 
Spirit has no boundaries...    
Bless you, whoever you are and however.



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