Saturday, December 03, 2005

a pleasing afterlife

This weekend I had planned to be up at my land in the Sonoma hills, land I share with old coven sisters and their partners. As I prepared to go, I found out that there was going to be quite a crowd up there. Robin and Rocky were going up with their troupe of Morris Dancers. At another time, this might have been a hoot, but not this weekend. The unsureness I’ve been feeling has led to a general feeling of vulnerability and unsteadiness. Things are in flux, and my roots are searching steady ground. Best to stay home.

As night increases its reign, I marvel at how much has changed since last solstice, when the sun ruled the sky. My household is configured in an entirely different way, my office as well. Relationships which once were integral to daily life have diminished to an occasional phone call. Doors have closed, some windows have been cracked open. My son has morphed in front of my eyes from child to teenager. Puberty has hit, and hit hard. His voice has changed, he’s shot up, and he even smells different. And those are just the physical changes. My spiritual affiliations are in transition, I’m much more a solitary witch than ever before, not defined by my relationships to traditions or community. This is the longest I’ve been single, a mere year and a half. Up until now, not three months have passed without embarking on a love affair. The first ride began at fifteen. Being single is new and strange territory. I’m settling into it, starting to notice the rightness of it, realizing it in itself is a journey. I’m staving off opening my heart to the roller coaster of love, feeling protective of these last remaining years of parenting. Things can change so quickly and do.

Today I went with a friend to Chrissy Field, an amazing stretch of beach nestled under the Presidio. We went in the hour before sunset, when the sky and water hold on to the light in a wondrous and particular way, eventually letting it go with the magic of opalescence. Getting chai lattes at the warming hut, we walked along the beach, with the Golden Gate looming to the side, and the city shining in front of us. Coit Tower, the Palace of Fine Arts, The Transamerican Pyramid, the Bay Bridge, Alcatraz Island - all the markers of this city I love so much were brilliantly on display from Chrissy Field. In the HBO production of Angels in America, heaven is portrayed as San Francisco. Today, walking in the twilight, with a warm cup of chai in hand, I smiled at the truth of this and felt my heart swell at the miracle of this dream city, this dream life. Amidst the changes, some things remain certain. I love this city, I love this life. It’s heaven.

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