An Unorthodox Easter

The discomfort of saying goodbye is archetypal. It takes a lot of energy to untangle the strings that connect us to objects and relationships. For relationships are ubiquitous to the fabric of human existence. Some threads are barely missed when removed, while others seem to not only unravel entire sections of our comfort zones but challenge our cherished beliefs.

Some threads ensnare our better natures and need to be severed so that we can move forward, while others live just below the surface of our waking awareness as internal components of everyday life. Relationships are everywhere; friendships, family, tribe, land, community, animals, and even the heavens. Anywhere there is an interval between me and another, there is a relationship, which is part an infinite matrix of resonance.

Hathors, Egyptian tradition, L.S. Berthelsen, unorthodox, grief, life after death,
Hathors of Egyptian mythology calm the soul.

I have been working with saying goodbye, letting go, accepting endings of multiple kinds in the past year. The many faces of Saturn the authoritarian and Pluto the destroyer have met me in dreams and outward reality as I have dealt with three deaths of loved ones. So I write on this Easter Sunday of learning lessons surrounding saying goodbye, letting go, finding love in sorrow, honoring the human emotions of grief.

Death is a mystery to modern society, but we can learn much from the ancient Egyptians. My cursory understanding cannot contain their wisdom, but the biology of life on earth is like the metaphor of a star. We are born like stars, in an explosion of light. It is not unlike the states of matter; solid, liquid, gaseous and etheric (plasmic). In birth the state of the soul figuratively cools so that it can draw breath, and in death the soul is rises again into its etheric state.

Hathors, Egyptian tradition, L.S. Berthelsen, unorthodox, grief, life after death,
Crown Chakra on Egyptian mummy, Houston Museum of Natural Science, 2015

The physical separation in death involves the severing of the solid part of life… like the body. The rippling effect brings heartache and suffering, adaptation to new ways of life, which is seldom easy. One cannot escape the work involved with estate liquidations and sorting through mementos, but it is even more difficult to set personal boundaries and accept situations without passing judgement.

My main lesson in letting go of my loved ones is dealing with life beyond my control. It has involved learning to receive the love and care from others without entangling myself in their issues. Discernment has been especially crucial during this time of catharsis. I have held multitudes of relationships to the light for examination, as well as dusting out  shadowy corners of my psyche that have been exposed to the light of day.

Death has a way of doing that… tearing the heart open so that it can be cleansed and healed. Love resonates, permeates every cell of one’s being and never goes away; which means that the pain of loss is a mechanism to keep the heart open! But I am learning that an open heart brings me closer to my own spiritual self and I am grateful for it.

To be grateful for an open heart means that I must be ok with living with an ephemeral grief that shimmers more brightly than any candle. The celebration of Easter and resurrection for me is a deeper understanding of my own journey. Only through the destruction of my physical constructs can I grow in love and my soul can evolve according to a plan beyond my comprehension.

And that is my desire for you as well… to find internal strength to shine ever brighter for a better world in our daily lives and to love one another more fully.IMG_7716