memory + truth = medicine

Take a breath offered by friendly winds. 

They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean.

Give it back with gratitude.

If you sing it will give your spirit lift to fly to the stars’ ears and back. 

Acknowledge this earth who has cared for you since you were a dream 

    planting itself precisely within your parents’ desire. ~ Joy Harjo 

holding vigil

At the bedside of our dying grand/mother we said the ritual words: 

"I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me."

There is great power in these words, and rituals hold much healing - especially in times of need. 

Lately, we have all been made increasingly aware of our humanity - reminded daily of our fragility, our mortality, and growing realization of those connections that make us human in their absence. 

With Easter upon us, we review the sermon of Herbert McCabe on the Easter triduum on Good Friday, in which he emphasizes and re–examines Christ’s humanity. 

Christ, for McCabe, represents the fulfilment of humanity in his capacity for love. He is "the human being we dare not be. He takes the risks of love which we recognize as risks and so for the most part do not take." 

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

McCabe goes further on the risk of love in separate sermons in God Matters, at one point remarking that: “If you do not love, you will not be alive. If you do love, you will be killed.” 

The cost of love of course, is being vulnerable to loss, to heartbreak. There has been too much of that recently - as we celebrate this time of divine victory over death, while facing many firsts in our daily living without her human presence. 

As we emerge renewed from another Easter celebration - wonder | wander | women hope we emerge in his spirit of love - more willing to take the risk and continue loving.