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  • Happy Teltane! What the hell is “teltane”, you ask? Why, I’m glad you asked! This next is from one of my morning readings, “Pocketful of Miracles”, by Joan Borysenko. Joan has been a part of my mornings for a good dozen years or so – a dear friend.

    Teltane is a cross-quarter day, midway between summer solstice and fall equinox. Althought the days are still long, the sun rises later and sets earlier. The thythm of the earth is shifting, and energies are beginning to draw inward. To ensure the balance between sun and earth energies necessary for a successful harvest, the ancient Celts celebrated a ritual marriage between earth and sun, male and female, each Teltane. Likewise, August is a time for us to bring about balance between our male and female aspects so that we can harvest the fruitfulness of our souls.

    This morning, I went out for my morning bike ride, but it was raining, so instead, I took a slow ride out to the salt marshes, and sat in the rain amidst the marshes, enjoying the vibrations of life, while feeling the tides and the bittersweet cycles of life. August. When did that happen? Wasn’t it just May?

    This morning I am feeling a powerful melancholy – not a bad thing, not in a depressing sort of way, just in a deep appreciation of the joys mixed with the sorrows and the sadness of life. I have given myself over to this, given me permission to feel this, today. My soul is silently weeping, crying for the things that must change, while embracing that change. It’s a “tweener” day – in between what was, what is, and what will be. I am feeling the Teltanic shift of the earth and the stars today. I am feeling some loss. This was one of the beautiful and valuable lessons Dad left me with – he shared with me, with all of us, his own grieving process, as he grieved the loss of his own physical health. We got to grieve along with him, as he slowly, then not-so-slowly, declined physically. While he was declining physically, he was rising, spiritually. By the time he left us, I had already passed through many of the stages of grieving, with him, and there was nothing left to do but to celebrate the light of his life. The joy was intense. I know – sounds pretty weird, but his death was a most joyful experience. Not only had he taught me how to live – he had taught me how to die. And how to grieve. That it’s o.k. to grieve. It is a process. Just as we can’t escape death, we can’t escape grief. Why not embrace them both? These were the lessons I learned from my father. They help me now as I spend this sacred time with my mother.

    After several fine days, active and filled with life and activity, yesterday was a rough day for Mom. The pain hit her in waves. I haven’t seen her doubled over in pain like that in awhile. Kathy had witnessed a day like this last week. The Hospice nurse suggested a more powerful dose of pain medicine, and while it eased the pain, it also knocked her out for a good part of the day. But it was a relief to see the suffering eased. I also took the suggestion of my physical therapist brother Ken and applied massage, which she really enjoyed, as he said she would. Like Mom, I am not touchy-feely, at all, and would not have thought to do this on my own. Thank God we’re all communicating with each other via e-mail. I try to keep everyone plugged in to what’s happening here.

    On my way back from my morning salt marsh reverie, I spied a little breakfast nook café place I’d noticed before, and decided to duck in there for a cup o’ joe. Very cool little place. Comfortable chairs and sofas all over, lots of reading material, books, magazines, and Cuban coffee! What a find! I’ll be back there again, no doubt. Picked up a large Cuban, toasted bagel and cream cheese, and a book by another favorite morning reading-type author, Sarah Ban Breathnach, “Something More – Excavating Your Authentic Self”. It was one of those deals where the book just kind of called out to me from the little book shelf where it was restlessly sitting, between a couple of bestseller, summer-beach-reading novels. It obviously was looking for a home, and I obliged it. Another morning meditation reader.

    Happy Teltane!

    Had To Cry Today, by Steve Winwood for Blind Faith

    It's already written that today will be one to remember
    The feeling's the same as being outside of the law
    Had to cry today
    Well, I saw your sign and I missed you there
    [ Lyrics from: ]
    I'm taking the chance to see the wind in your eyes while I listen
    You say you can't reach me but you want every word to be free
    Had to cry today
    Well, I saw your sign and I missed you there
    And I missed you there

    Had to cry today ...
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