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The Passing Of A Beautiful Spirit With An Untamed Heart

The Passing Of A Beautiful Spirit With An Untamed Heart


Events of late have me pondering the paradoxical elements running deeply within my family. Everyone has some wildness, weirdness and hyper intuition but may not elevate these qualities to the degree my family has. This hyper intuition present in all instances and I wonder how women managed to foster unconditional love within this uniqueness without losing themselves entirely in the process.


After much thought, I find I have come full circle: puzzled, awestruck, bemused and a bit afraid. There is much to live up to when placing myself aside those that have lived flawed lives while shining their soul so brightly. On most days, I just want to hide in a self made cave, sipping tea and reading a good book. The world can be far to intimidating and my home feels safe.


How does a women balance a gentle spirit with the constant calling of an untamed heart, a persistent wanderlust for people, place and thing? On a good day, I feel torn by my somewhat ferocious desire to make a difference in the world and the gentle spirited voice that wants to love with abandon, residing in a safe zone of warmth and kindness.


It takes great courage to break with one’s past history and stand alone.”

-Marion Woodman


Hearing the stories of my Grandmother Charlotte’s colorful life only fuel my desire to find a way forward. No matter how one interprets her life in review, there is no doubt that she did it her way. I always admired that she never tried to be anything but herself. In doing so, she had a unique ability to accept others as they were showing up, foibles and all. Even though one could absolutely say she was feisty with an inner fire that burned with a palpable heat, I never experienced a moment with her in which I did not feel seen. She captured my attention, locking in like a missile by speaking to whatever was in my heart. She never shied away from difficult things, at least not with me. Her blunt honesty delivered with a larger than life smile was appreciated more than I believe I ever let her know.


I often wonder if my life trajectory would have been different if I had known her earlier. She and her sister Frieda spoke to me, my gypsy spirit, in a way that others did not. Meeting her was jarring in that I saw someone living in a way that inspired yet frightened me. She had a loving partner who honored her uniqueness and the two of them seemed to exist in a self made bubble of recognition.  Wherever Charlotte was, so too was Wilton.  Two of the same, yet different sides of a coin. She was outgoing and vivacious, he quiet and introspection. I just can’t fathom one without the other.


One thing that remains is the endless wells of generosity I witnessed in Charlotte. She healed wounds in our family that only a child of adoption could know. My mother found a mirror in Charlotte and together they walked through the remainder of Charlotte’s life loving, learning and leaning on one other. No other example of unconditional love stands as profound as this. We gained another grandmother and she gained a daughter with a very loving extended family. In losing her, it brought into focus just how special relationships are and how fortunate it is to connect with another on any level.


“Death is our friend, precisely because it brings us into absolute and passionate presence with all that is here, that is natural, that is love.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke


I feel the space that she left and hope that in some small way, by living my life on my own terms, I honor that space. I hope to be able to add something positive to my environment, connecting with others in my own careful yet spiritual way. People talk to me and I believe this is a gift that grandma Charlotte passed along. I may not always welcome it, but maybe that is not the point. Maybe the point is how others honor me by sharing their stories. Each time someone opens up in a personal way, I try to honor this sharing while providing some comfort for whatever may be troubling them. I try to exchange energy in the most gentle and loving of ways and in doing so I am the recipient of their bravery, resilience and love. In this way my untamed heart is set free from the fear of living such a non-traditional way. In this way I am the lucky one.


Charlotte is pure light now and privy to all of the beauty and majestic wonder of this spectacular universe. She is everywhere yet nowhere, ever expansive and limitless, she is pure unadulterated love. Peace, blessings and light to her on this next chapter of her journey. I hope to carry with me a small spark of her fire that she so lovingly tended and shared with others.


The Contradiction and Unity of Both Death and Life

The Contradiction and Unity of Both Death and Life


I have never been afraid of death. My sister will shudder when she reads this, but she knows this to be true. Rather than fear, I have a reverence for this transition and have always viewed it as a parallel spiritual experience to birth. I have had the honor and responsibility to sit with others as they pass from this world to the next, just as I have given birth to two beautiful souls. Both experiences feel like I am holding my breath and at the same time shouting from the rooftops. It has an air of complete silence yet with the buzzing sound of energy being exchanged.  Time stops for a moment and I feel my heart beating as it expands and contracts. Becoming acutely aware of my humanness as well as my holiness. It is a beautiful thing.  


When the heart grieves over what it has lost, the spirit rejoices over what it has left.” – Sufi


I sometimes think that I am not from this world. I don’t understand the constant need for commercial success, the hatred of others, the competition and greed.  I long for something that I cannot define, but know is just beyond. When I walk in the morning and feel the breathe of a new day, I feel the closest to this other. I tell no one, because this must sound crazy.  I know it is not, but I still worry about what others will think that have no reference or ability to believe what is not seen.


My physical body is just flesh and bones. I honor it by eating well, exercising and keeping active. I know too that this body is just a shell, a skin that will be shed, making way for the wondrous butterfly that is underneath the layers of a life well lived. I close my eyes and envision this moment when I will be free to fly as I am meant too.  I open my eyes and feel the restriction of my clothes, this body and my routine. It can be suffocating. I wonder if this is why the very young and the very old tear of their clothes at the first chance and gleefully parade about. Yet, I am so thankful that my physical body has allowed for so many life experiences. I am one that is living in both worlds, walking in between.


I once visited a healer and as soon as I entered her room she reached for my arm, taken aback by what she saw.  She told me that I had a legion of angels and protectors walking in with me.  I had been reading the work of St Francis at the time and she described a friar with a beard standing by my head.  She knew nothing about me, or the thin veil between the worlds, yet she saw me….really saw me. Used to hiding right under the radar, afraid to share too much with anyone, I was taken aback by her ability to see this. There were others that had variations of this gift as well? I felt instantly comforted and less alone.


It is not the end of the physical body that should worry us. Rather, our concern must be to live while we’re alive – to release our inner selves from the spiritual death that comes with living behind a facade designed to conform to external definitions of who and what we are.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross


Death is not the end, but a new beginning.  If you are scientific you understand this. The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; energy can only be transferred or changed from one form to another. Both birth and death are monumental transfers of energy. What has been found cannot be lost. We are forever more eternal and this should bring comfort to those afraid of the unknown.


Speaking of death does not make one dark or melancholic. It is a transition of life that none of us will escape. Reflecting on this is meaningful on a spiritual path and useful for growth.  The question becomes not what is death, but rather how do I live? By avoiding the topic of death, one never really understands that this life is fleeting and the measure of a good life is in the living. As one with a thin veil, I embrace each day and am not afraid of tomorrow.  I know what is to come and am ready when my lessons here are complete.