Your Magdalene wept tonight, my Adamah
Cried for you, out for you, my Adamah
Laid down in the widow wilderness, my Adamah
Lilith shadow and Inanna sorrow, my Adamah
Like scarlet veils they sheathe me, my Adamah
Enclosing the seven daggers, my Adamah
Seven serpents weaving and winding, my Adamah
The seven gates burned to ash, my Adamah
My Graal heart deep wells weeping, my Adamah
My Graal womb weeping the holy blood, my Adamah
And I united my blood with your ashes, my Adamah
And the earth, she whispered secrets, my Adamah
Roses rising and resurrecting, my Adamah
From the below, fiery roses rising, my Adamah
My Beloved, my Shepherd, my Adamah
My Worker of the Wood, my Adamah
My Golden Bull, Taurus born, my Adamah
Hair like wheat, hands like bread, my Adamah
My God of the Vine always, my Adamah
With kisses like wine always, my Adamah
Our temple of unio mystica, my Adamah
My Dumuzi, Osiris, Tammuz, my Adamah
My Bridegroom, my Beloved, my Adamah
I cried for you, out for you, my Adamah
Yes, Beloved, your Magdalene wept tonight.
-nuit
One year ago tonight, my husband took his life. Needless to say, this past year has been deeply difficult for me in navigating this loss, especially as it happened during a separation that left so many wounds unaddressed, so much pain unresolved, so much destruction,
so many things left unsaid. However, the love we had could not be destroyed by any of the Underworld territory we found ourselves in due in such large part to the Bi-Polar 2 disorder that drove him to this. But I did not understand that at the time. I only knew that
my pain and anger was so intense and so deep that I thought it had swallowed up my love.
I was very wrong. I could not have been more wrong.
This man was the love of my life, the father of my daughter and stepfather to my son, and yes, my Hades. Our marriage was a true Underworld journey that took me down after 7 years to the butchering floor, and then taking me 7 years to ascend from that destruction.
It took all I had inside me to recover from it, and then to make the incredibly difficult decision to leave him. I can't find an adequate way to express the unimaginable tragedies in the losses of him- of which there were many... small ones before the huge loss, permeating so many layers and levels. Most of the time, it doesn't seem real.
The three years in which we were separated were full of intense and heavy work for me. I was plunged into a deep depression, and suddenly faced with the equivalent of having the scabs ripped off of every heart-wound I had sustained dealing with his illness. I also was doing the more difficult work of helping my daughter deal and heal from a trauma she had sustained. The last half of 2011 through the first half of 2012 was an exceptionally dark period for me.
Then during the Venus transit of 2012, I had an incredibly vivid dream upon which after I had awakened I was compelled to immediately write, reflecting the dream content:
"I had offered my heart up, my raw, pure heart up, to the Crocodile headed Sobek, and into the dark, dark waters it went. Years passed. Suddenly emerging, he has returned my heart to me, in the form of a radiant Lotus."
The Venus transit of 2012 was a time of immense healing for me. I felt put back together in many ways, my heart opened again. I later learned that the Egyptian God Sobek was an ally of the Goddess Isis and of Her husband, Osiris, of whom Sobek was a resurrection healer of, his name translating to "he who unites (the dismembered limbs of Osiris)".
But in 2014, the darkness returned.
The day he died, I was with our children- my son was visiting for Thanksgiving- and I had such a flood of rage and hurt centered around him, I found myself breathless from it. It was an eruption that came out of nowhere. Later that night, my kids and I made a fire in the fire pit out in the outer temple and we sat around it just talking. It was a very heavy atmospheric night, and he was on my mind. I took a picture of the fire, and I posted this photo on my personal page on Facebook because it was so striking looking- like someone was standing in the flames. To me it looked like Kuan Yin, the Bodhisattva Goddess of Compassion and Mercy to those suffering deep grief, was standing in a fire lotus.
Many others commented that they saw the same. It made me feel raw and on edge, because quite frankly it felt like a portent, highlighting the unease writhing inside me.
so many things left unsaid. However, the love we had could not be destroyed by any of the Underworld territory we found ourselves in due in such large part to the Bi-Polar 2 disorder that drove him to this. But I did not understand that at the time. I only knew that
my pain and anger was so intense and so deep that I thought it had swallowed up my love.
I was very wrong. I could not have been more wrong.
This man was the love of my life, the father of my daughter and stepfather to my son, and yes, my Hades. Our marriage was a true Underworld journey that took me down after 7 years to the butchering floor, and then taking me 7 years to ascend from that destruction.
It took all I had inside me to recover from it, and then to make the incredibly difficult decision to leave him. I can't find an adequate way to express the unimaginable tragedies in the losses of him- of which there were many... small ones before the huge loss, permeating so many layers and levels. Most of the time, it doesn't seem real.
The three years in which we were separated were full of intense and heavy work for me. I was plunged into a deep depression, and suddenly faced with the equivalent of having the scabs ripped off of every heart-wound I had sustained dealing with his illness. I also was doing the more difficult work of helping my daughter deal and heal from a trauma she had sustained. The last half of 2011 through the first half of 2012 was an exceptionally dark period for me.
Then during the Venus transit of 2012, I had an incredibly vivid dream upon which after I had awakened I was compelled to immediately write, reflecting the dream content:
"I had offered my heart up, my raw, pure heart up, to the Crocodile headed Sobek, and into the dark, dark waters it went. Years passed. Suddenly emerging, he has returned my heart to me, in the form of a radiant Lotus."
The Venus transit of 2012 was a time of immense healing for me. I felt put back together in many ways, my heart opened again. I later learned that the Egyptian God Sobek was an ally of the Goddess Isis and of Her husband, Osiris, of whom Sobek was a resurrection healer of, his name translating to "he who unites (the dismembered limbs of Osiris)".
But in 2014, the darkness returned.
The day he died, I was with our children- my son was visiting for Thanksgiving- and I had such a flood of rage and hurt centered around him, I found myself breathless from it. It was an eruption that came out of nowhere. Later that night, my kids and I made a fire in the fire pit out in the outer temple and we sat around it just talking. It was a very heavy atmospheric night, and he was on my mind. I took a picture of the fire, and I posted this photo on my personal page on Facebook because it was so striking looking- like someone was standing in the flames. To me it looked like Kuan Yin, the Bodhisattva Goddess of Compassion and Mercy to those suffering deep grief, was standing in a fire lotus.
Many others commented that they saw the same. It made me feel raw and on edge, because quite frankly it felt like a portent, highlighting the unease writhing inside me.
Then later that night I had a nightmare about him, and it woke me up. Upset and shaken, I went into the kitchen to shake it off, and a few minutes later, my son came out of the room he was sleeping in. He had also had a nightmare, although it wasn't about his stepfather that he could recall. After a little talking, we both went back to sleep. I had come to the conclusion that the nightmare, my upset, etc was the result of us all being together on Thanksgiving except for him- I figured maybe it was also PTSD from my marriage, because nightmares were a common form for me of it. My husband and I were deeply connected psychically- but at that point, I had no idea where he was even living, where he even was.
I didn't find out about my husband's death until 3 days later.
When I found out, I was immediately back on the butchering floor, but in a way that I had never been before. The noises that came howling out of me were primordial.
And they didn't stop.
It was terrifying.
When I was coherent enough, I pleaded to Kuan Yin. To Mary. Both the one and the same.
Help. Help. Help me. Help me. Help me.
I revolved between shock and shattering.
Visceral, torn open- I wept myself into a state of dust.
Then something happened. All the love suddenly came gushing forth, flooding me.
The anger fires extinguished, and only balm. I released all of the anger I had been carrying towards him inside me- that treacherous raw wound, that screaming maw.
It turned to love. It turned to forgiveness. It turned to healing grief, instead of the destroying pain I had been consumed by. Just RADIANT LOVE.
It turned into a pure GRACE of RADIANT LOVE.
A miracle of grace, which I then gave, with everything I had inside me, to him.
I only wish I had had the foresight to do this before it was too late. I don't mean in returning to a very destructive pattern, I don't mean in trying to save my marriage, because I spent 14 years actively trying to both save it and survive it. I just mean in really going deep within and being able to tap into that unconditional love in the deepest wells of my heart. In being able to rise above the acid poison of that pain, to get out of that destructive wound within myself- and while he was still here, forgive him and let him know I loved him.
Because forgiveness is a liberator. Forgiveness is a healer. For both.
I know I am not to blame, but it is a monstrous burden to bear, that thought.
I often find myself- a Magdalene in the Wilderness- tested by the demons of regrets.
A year later, I find myself still saved by that grace, and still tested by my demons.
It is a divine dichotomy- or is it? That's a question. What is certain is that radiant love.
...........................................................
*Adamah: Hebrew, translates into "red earth/fertile soil", and is the origin of the name of Adam,
and is considered to be the name associated
with the figure now known as Lilith, beloved to me
Tonight during my devotions, I mixed my womb-blood with some of his ashes, as my own form of sacred Adamah. Anointed myself. My tears, my blood, his body. Sacra.
He always loved that I taught the menstrual mysteries, always supported my work. I met him the day after his birthday at a Beltane Festival, Beltane being the celebrating of the Sacred Marriage between the God and Goddess, and he being Beltane born, a Taurus- my own earthy god, a carpenter and a tiller of fields. A gorgeous man- blond, green eyed, strong and beautiful in body, so funny and smart, so vulnerable and soft that Hallmark commercials could make him teary-eyed. An amazing cook. Scottish-Viking blood, but with almond shaped eyes. I remember everything about him. Everything.
The first day we met he brought to me a wood sculpture he was creating, from a piece of wood naturally shaped like a woman's torso and asked me to feel it, wanting to share it with me, wanting to show me. It was so smooth, so beautiful. So sensual, yet so solid.
The next morning, after we had made love for the first time, he gave it to me.
It was the first gift he ever gave me (one of many also made of wood, actually).
In this past year, I've spread his ashes at the roots of the trees he loved so much,
in herb beds, in both newly tilled and freshly harvested fields.
His body, and the body of earth.
Unio Mystica.
*this post is (obviously) dedicated to my husband. 1974-2014.
with all my heart
-Nuit
*Adamah: Hebrew, translates into "red earth/fertile soil", and is the origin of the name of Adam,
and is considered to be the name associated
with the figure now known as Lilith, beloved to me
Tonight during my devotions, I mixed my womb-blood with some of his ashes, as my own form of sacred Adamah. Anointed myself. My tears, my blood, his body. Sacra.
He always loved that I taught the menstrual mysteries, always supported my work. I met him the day after his birthday at a Beltane Festival, Beltane being the celebrating of the Sacred Marriage between the God and Goddess, and he being Beltane born, a Taurus- my own earthy god, a carpenter and a tiller of fields. A gorgeous man- blond, green eyed, strong and beautiful in body, so funny and smart, so vulnerable and soft that Hallmark commercials could make him teary-eyed. An amazing cook. Scottish-Viking blood, but with almond shaped eyes. I remember everything about him. Everything.
The first day we met he brought to me a wood sculpture he was creating, from a piece of wood naturally shaped like a woman's torso and asked me to feel it, wanting to share it with me, wanting to show me. It was so smooth, so beautiful. So sensual, yet so solid.
The next morning, after we had made love for the first time, he gave it to me.
It was the first gift he ever gave me (one of many also made of wood, actually).
In this past year, I've spread his ashes at the roots of the trees he loved so much,
in herb beds, in both newly tilled and freshly harvested fields.
His body, and the body of earth.
Unio Mystica.
*this post is (obviously) dedicated to my husband. 1974-2014.
with all my heart
-Nuit
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