Uprooting…

**A new feature at the Palace Of Muse, listen if you can’t read! It’s about a 6.5 minute read**

Organized chaos surrounds me as I nimbly step over boxes, bins and their lids… honestly, it’s really empty boxes that now clutter the room which housed the art space I once envisioned being able to work in.

Each room in the house in its own state of upheaval–drawers are empty, the storage unit is filling up. Ya know it’s real, when the art comes off the walls. Broad and delicate brush strokes facing inward… Wrapping canvasses in plastic I wish I wasn’t using but giving thanks with every revolution of the tube. This is the most epic move of my life.

The alter space… I’d been holding out, as if the longer it stays set up the more the continued blessings rain… but more and more precious items had come to fill the recessed cabinet. It was time.
And blessings always rain!

The Rupas were washed, Tara’s face dried gently and wrapped in an offering scarf… Milarepa watched, listening for his turn. Feathers wrapped and slipped into the box of sage and tibetan incense. That’s all coming with me…

We worried about what to do with Grandpa…

He is larger than life in his opera gear, posing with a stern regal expression, his humor and joviality hidden to those who never polished off a half gallon of strawberry chocolate and vanilla Breyer’s in front of the teevee before remotes were a thing…
Stern to anyone who hadn’t known his grin after an attempt at breaking a glass with a high C…

He will soon be with his second born son, to remind him of just how regal he was. And George remembers ice cream and teevee in the living room that only knew the Dad who had traded a life with a wife for Jesus over the opportunity to accept the role as Lead Baritone for the Metropolitan Opera…

Everything lands in its perfect place… in perfect time.

The angels are coming out of the woodwork… some holding me remotely in prayer and some showing up to pull the all nighters.

 came to lay a floor in the wish come true school bus… last week the brake line went in, hand fashioned by an angel who’d just as soon be exploring coral reefs, this brutal winters end…
“Doin’ it for the love. And in gratitude for the gifts you bring to the whole…” Water Protectors protect eachOther…

Landing feels like a ways off… but my family-in-love is strong!

Un-nesting… RE-nesting.

A point in the evolution of Rach that I knew would be upon me… And yet, just as jarring as the moment a being emerged from my body, it is nothing I tried not to expect it to be…

The nest on the light fixture by the door hosted four babies last year… content to grow with the hustle and bustle of the in and out.

They just so happened to fledge, while I was stepping about one morning (accompanied by my sheer delight) and they never came back. A few weeks ago a feathered couple came by and we watched them check out the nest. They hung out long enough to decide it wasn’t a fit.

This house is not a fit for our family anymore either. It almost was a fit but something wasn’t ever right from the get go. My then partner, fleeing from depression felt the change of venue would fix the wounds he couldn’t face. But we should have fled from eachother then… and now while it held us safely for almost seven years… this house holds too much pain.

The choice the winged ones made, not to nest, seemed appropriate–and not just because the impending construction surely won’t be suitable for babies–but because it is time for nesters to fledge.

We weren’t planning to uproot our nest just yet, but spirit has the way of directing flow in ways we don’t always want to accept in the moment or methods presented.

And such magic moment have been presented.
More magic and connection has sprung from the call for change in times of great adversity. And I sure feel the magic.

Chog will moving to his first apartment with incredible roommates and though Mercury chose to slow the process a bit, it’s going to be a good new nest.

With that news, the nest by the door uprooted itself as if to say, “it’s time mom…”

I took it as a blessed message and kicked up the organizing, purging and packing a few notches. It’s not just time, the new nest will be just right.

And thankfully we’ve had some time to return to a rhythm that we created in flow. Three can be hard sometimes.

The blessings that come with having been back to our flow have been plenty.
So many tears the other morning as I continue to realize I am no longer to be privy to Chog’s creative process, and the song coming down the stairs soundtracked that fact… He’s Leaving home…

So the timing feels like a jolt and yet spring arrived last week… and as the equinox struck noon, the birdsong made note that the chill in the air will soon give way to muddy pathways and crocus blossoms and soon after that, daffodils and lilacs… irises and then Peonies… spring in the Catskills is the juiciest time of the year and our reward for choosing seasonal climate. Rejuvenation marks the new year. After what was a brutal winter for many.

We’re mountain people and this is when we come out of hibernation… along with the Bears… they are showing up, cubs in tow.

I organized the first aid kit, split up the homeopathic remedies, herbal tinctures and supplements. Because that’s what mom’s do…

It’s weird and exciting and new and fresh and wild and intense and exciting and exciting and holy shit and the other day the nest fell, again, from the light fixture. This time the message was take me with you… and I will.

Feeling a bit like the teenager again myself… it’s fascinating…As Chog sets forth into adulthood, I move to grow young…

Life and the blessings that flow…