At the Threshold Between Worlds
Lemyre-Tarot+Card-Priestess.jpg

It’s hard to believe that it’s been two years since our last blog post.  

Just as we in the midst of working on The High Priestess, who tells us to turn around and look within, circumstances conspired to make us do exactly that.  We turned inwards toward family, toward the mystery of the slow passing of my mother to the other side of the veil and back to the source.

The High Priestess is the guardian of the threshold between worlds; the Conscious and Unconscious Minds, Dreams and Reality, Night and Day, and, as it turns out, at this point in our lives, she was also a guide in processing the transition between Life and Death.  

My mother’s death was not a sudden one.  It was a journey.  A slow process of leaving this world.  Her first step was turning inward.  She became very introspective, spending long stretches of time, eyes wide open but focused inward in memories and reveries.  She  stopped talking,  eating and drinking, and slept and dreamed for much of the day, until she was asleep more than she was awake, and then always asleep, and then a quiet passing.   We went as far as we could with her journey, holding her hand and letting her know we loved her, but she crossed that final threshold by herself.

I had a dream once about dying.  I was a drop of water hanging from the tip of a stalactite  in a deep subterranean cavern.  I hung there for a moment and then dropped. For the time it took me to fall, I was me, the individual me, alone. Then, when I hit the pool of water below I was absorbed, still mostly me, but also part of everything else, not alone.  I had the realization that this cycle would continue; evaporation, condensation, drip, repeat.

The High Priestess is about cycles.  She is is linked to the moon, with its endless cycles of birth, death and rebirth, the rhythm of time.   She is linked to water, the great ocean of the unconscious, the true ocean where life began and the womb where human life begins. The river returns to its source and the cycle begins again.

“All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again.” - Ecclesiastes 1:7

Life, and this project continues.

-Lynn


I’ve posted this song before, but it’s never been more appropriate than now for me.

Hymn to Her, by the Pretenders

Hymn to Her- The Pretenders

Let me inside you 

Into your room 

I've heard it's lined 

With the things you don't show 

Lay me beside you 

Down on the floor 

I've been your lover 

From the womb to the tomb 

I dress as your daughter 

When the moon becomes round 

You be my mother 

When everything's gone

And she will always carry on 

Something is lost 

But something is found 

They will keep on speaking her name 

Somethings change 

Some stay the same

Keep beckoning to me 

From behind that closed door 

The maid and the mother 

And the crone that's grown old

I hear your voice 

Coming out of that hole 

I listen to you 

And I want some more 

I listen to you 

And I want some more

She will always carry on 

Something is lost 

But something is found 

They will keep on speaking her name 

Some things change 

Some stay the same

She will always carry on 

Something is lost 

But something is found 

They will keep on speaking her name 

Some things change 

Some stay the same

Let me inside you 

Into your room 

I've heard it's lined 

With the things you don't show 

Lay me beside you 

Down on the floor 

I've been your lover 

From the womb to the tomb 

I dress as your daughter 

When the moon becomes round 

You be my mother 

When everything's gone

And she will always carry on 

Something is lost 

But something is found 

They will keep on speaking her name 

Some things change 

Some stay the same

She will always carry on 

Something is lost 

But something is found 

They will keep on speaking her name 

Some things change 

Some stay the same

And she will always carry on 

Something is lost 

But something is found 

They will keep on speaking her name 

Some things change 

Some stay the same


Love you Mom:

Mom.jpg









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