“Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix.”
We are given no guarantees. We go through life seeking a certainty that doesn’t originate except in our romantic spun illusions. When the curve ball comes, moving us in a direction we did not plan, we are thrown, sometimes deeply, by the unexpected. Death, the end of a marriage, or the loss of a job, call us to task in a way we would rather avoid. Still, we must travel with that curve ball or crumble in its wake. How do we cope?
There is no easy answer. The collapsing of one illusion often spins the emergence of another. Coping is a matter of perspective. Illusions can last a short time, or a long time, but at some point, illusions metamorphous into other possibilities not yet seen or considered. In another vein, as our quote promises, our transformation stems from the ashes of the phoenix in much the same way as the egg brings the promise of birth. Are death and birth the same? I think so.
I love the garden for its beauty. It brings pleasure in a way I cannot explain. Our dog Merlin brings us humor and focus, Sophie soulfulness, Tucker over-exuberance, Rocky a klutzy kind of wonder. Each day these creatures remind us that there are more things to life than our petty worries.
I consider Sheila, my husband Jim’s late wife, and know that we never met in person. She died several years ago on May 15. I consider we must know each other in the shared reality that involves the life I have now. Truthfully, I cannot know Jim without knowing her, and I cannot be myself without considering that part of who I am involves her. I fought this truth this once, until I realized in this truth was my own rebirth. I consider other friends lost over time and realize the same thing. Death is an expression of life changed, not necessarily its end.
So what to do with all this? Forgive this silly Virgo with a predilection, however flawed, for trying to find the profound in the simple. I say walk in the garden and realize it is all around you. The profoundness, that is, of new beginnings. Sheila lives as do all those who have passed. Merlin will tell you so. So will I. It is the magic of rebirth that happens all the time. How perfect the gift.