Fathers

This morning I had a long conversation with my dad.  It's a little more than one year ago that he passed away.  It's been a busy year, and though I created an entire dance piece about grief, there were still more layers to dig through.  It so happened that my second set of Ayahuasca ceremonies were on the weekend of his death anniversary.  So, I processed alot of the passing, as well as alot of the spiritual heritage he left me on the first night of ceremony.  That was really dark, and I'll choose not to write about it here and now, as the moment at hand is positive and soulful.  What opened up in the days and weeks after the ceremonies is communication.  

Our sheikh in London, who has studied death and near-death experiences extensively, sometimes talks about the passing of his mother.  He talks about the life of both love and tension, of her last years in which there was a nice shift, and of her continual presence.  My journey with my father has been similar, only I didn't understand the continual presence until now.  It's hard to describe, it's something akin to a knowledge in the bones.  Present, real, undefinable.  He has this huge smile and I just feel it everywhere.  The struggles he faced upon his death have passed, he is really happy, happy is the word.  I don't know when he'll come back to earth or in what form or where, and I don't know if I will register that and notice a quality change or not.  What I do know is that he is so pleased with the directions my life is taking and that he supports me fully.

dad and I at a High School Football Game

 

 

Of the legacies he left me, some are in books, some in memories, some in specific advice, and of course in his example.  The first two books he had me read were "The Mindspring of Human Progress" (now out of print) and "Back to Eden" by Jethro Kloss.  The former book was all about the mispresentation of global history and there are two components I remember clearly.  One has to do with the nature of human mind, about how it can be close to that of bee communities, and how we can choose to embrace bee mind or to create new group mind patterns for new communities.  The second had to do with a flowering renaissance in Africa during the dark ages of Europe.  I remember how much that shocked my American teenage understandings!  The later book is all about how to build your own sanitarium for health, grow and cook your own healthfoods, why not to drink milk, the benefits of your own soy patch and the like.  From it I found other books which became my favorites, including Spiritual Midwifery and an excellent cookbook from The Farm in Tennessee.  I never did make my own tofu, but I have been baking most of my bread and making my own granola for years and years now. 

The most important legacy to me is my fathers study of herbalism.  About three years before he passed a huge box showed up on my doorstep with several mixing jars, his favorite texts, and a bunch of starter herbs.  He was crazy because a large portion of the house was devoted to his practice, but the only people he ever treated were family members! :) His concoctions were powerful and they helped me to doctor both myself and my children extensively.  My favorite was a skullcap and flowery tea he brought me after giving birth, it completely relaxed both hard muscle and smooth muscle and induced an amazing sense of peace.  Well done dad!  His favorite concoction was a coffee enema he loved to take, he would just laugh and laugh about that.  And my sister will never forget being paid to measure cayenne pepper into capsules by the hour. 

He was a high school drop out, and so he hustled in life.  For the majority of years he worked as a prison guard, and with pluck and spirit educated himself on the night shifts.  He read so much, alot of it conspiracy theory, but alot of it helpful analysis of investments which he put to good use, and alot of spiritual books as well.  His stamina for life, his conviction in his ability to heal himself, the way he would sit still and quiet for hours at a time, and his enthusiasm for discovering hidden knowledge remain with me still, now.

There is a way of passing away from the personal,
a dying that makes one plural.
Hundreds of thousands of impressions
from the invisible are wanting to come through you!
I get dizzy with the abundance.  When life
is this dear, it means the source is pulling us.
Freshness comes from there.  We're given the gift
of continuously dying and being resurrected.
With constellations in the night sky, some look up
and point.  Others can be guided by the arrangements:
the Sagittarian bow piercing enemies, the Water Jar
soaking fruit trees, the Bull plowing its truth,
the Lion tearing darkness open to red satin.  Use
these words to change.  Be kind and honest,
and harmful poisons will turn sweet inside you~
Mevlana Rumi

And so the relationship continues~