The Ground of Heaven

Celebrating the sublime conundrum of deaths’ burnished brilliance on The Day of The Dead, is satisfying.  We might be as leaves, flaming out in high-flying colors, lofted into winds for a last dance.  Is it not a death many of us would envy?  If we but un-clutch, releasing the branch, we will slide into home base, and snuggle in colorful piles with our friends, held at last by Mother Earth….Wow! Sign me up for that one.

Reaching the end of any cycle and perceiving ourselves as incandescent beauty, is a major achievement.  All rotations, be it the seasons, a life span, a planetary circling bring a time of release and dying, otherwise we cannot begin again. But facing the end of any cycle brings sadness.  We recognizing change and aging.  It forces the psyche within, just as winter’s bone-life shoos the body inside.  Endings are where we hope to face our deepest fears and desires. Yes, we sit by fires, drinking blood red wine, but also consciously, or un-consciously, begin preparations for spring birth.  In order to do so we must shed old skins so that what is crying to be born has opportunity for breath.

The Day of The Dead is the ground of heaven when we face ‘limits that need respect, and look at the limitations we must transcend.’ (Stephanie Austin)  The  Universe supports these inner and outer cycles with layers of helpful energies:

Fall’s last hurrah is the territory of Scorpio’s frozen waters of death and rebirth, profound passion, and innate desires that take us to the bottom of issues.

Though most of us do not celebrate the dead as our ancestors did, we yet have a celebration that holds space, so when we are ready to return to the richer life of spirit, old rituals lie waiting.

Planets go forward and backward on their paths, giving opportunity to review, and ask ‘what has changed for you?  What are you missing? These can be weeks, months, even years long.  Lunar cycles are 28 days, Eclipse cycles are 19 years, but they both ask, ‘Who were you back then? What have you turned to gold in this time? What and who have fallen by the wayside? It’s time to go back into that closet and clear it out again.  What will you find buried in the back? Does it still belong to you? Do you want it?

There is always some opportunity offering a pause, a momentary reflection, a lost month in which to relinquish who we thought we were.  If we despair in pulling within, remember we cannot have a life without it.   And always we prepare a better death from the conundrum of living a gloriously, colorful conscious life.  That consciousness grows from cycles of dying, of flaming out and coming to rest upon the earth.


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