Continuity 2.2
I left off at the first anniversary of Woody’s passing. It was a very hard day for me. MY dreams were starting to shift as if going over the cliff of the first anniversary was a pinnacle in my progression of healing. I was starting to travel again in my dreams, and I was going places I didn’t recognize but I knew in my heart they were good places, places which I could fall back on as places of power. One night I saw a huge book and I was filled with curiosity as to what was printed in it, but I couldn’t read it. I felt like Alice in Wonderland when I saw it. When I woke up, I felt rested and upbeat.
I’ve been a musician since I was 12 and played professionally from the time, I was 18 until I was 30. On January 15th of 2025 I had a dream that I was inside a song. It was beautiful, calming and invigorating. I n my dream I just stood there and watched the notes and time signature pass me by, weave around me, wrap around me and lead me out the other side. I awoke with such a feeling of awe and wonder. I got up and went out into my backyard and stood I the dirt barefoot and meditated on the beauty that I had just experienced. My dream was a further aspiration that my dreams are a very real part of my life, that I am active participant in them. I am also very aware of how much information and knowledge that is transmitted to me through my dreams, I remain grateful to this day.
As I write this in July of 2025, it feels as if my time with Woody was years ago, he’s only been gone 18 months, but I still feel his presence every day. The intense grief that I felt in the beginning has lessened, but there are waves that still come, and they can be crippling, stopped me in my tracks, making me regroup and find my footing again. I’d like to share a poem from a woman. who passed from a fight with cancer on 7-14, yesterday. I did not know here but the last lines hit me like a freight train when I read them, I share this with you now. I hope it helps you in your journey, I will become that “Grief astronomer” I pray I can help you see.
A difficult life is not less
worth living than a gentle one.
Joy is simply easier to carry
than sorrow. And your heart
could lift a city from how long
you’ve spent holding what’s been
nearly impossible to hold.
This world needs those
who know how to do that.
Those who could find a tunnel
that has no light at the end of it,
and hold it up like a telescope
to know the darkness
also contains truths that could
bring the light to its knees.
Grief astronomer, adjust the lens,
look close, tell us what you see.
Andrea Gibson (8.13.75 -7.14.25)
