Energy in which Anything Can Happen
Much has been written about the unusual astrological occurrence of the lunar eclipse on August 28, followed by the solar eclipse this morning, regarding the amazing planetary line-up that has occurred: most particularly, the solar return of September 11, 2001. The weather where I live in Rochester, New York was most unstable today, actually, swinging from sunshine and clear blue skies to torrential downpours, lightning that swept the sky, claps of thunder, and blustery winds.
It has been said in astrological and metaphysical circles that this amazing line-up of planets and their aspects to each other from August 28 through September 11 also represents very strong, unstable energy. That is understood to mean energy in which just about anything can happen, which opens a very wide creative door of what has also been called a time of initiation.
An Adventure to Heal and Evolve Consciousness
Suppose, just suppose there was a real opportunity, along with current Senate hearings challenging upcoming military decisions about the war in Iraq regarding further commitment of troops, etc., to truly face what it means to consciously participate in killing? Would fully facing our capacity to mindfully carry out killing change how we are in the world?
Once a month I facilitate a memoir writing group of currently five women who read to each other the stories of their lives. They use these as opportunities to "connect their own dots" of perception for greater understanding and development, and support each other in that amazing inner adventure to heal and evolve consciousness.
Stories Teach, Touch and Pass On . . .
This group, which has been meeting for years, was an outgrowth of a memoir writing class I taught at the Center for Lifelong Learning to seniors at Nazareth College in Rochester, New York. The group met the day before yesterday, and I asked one of the participants if she would be willing to allow me to share her powerful story about a most seemingly insignificant episode in her present life as part of today's blog entry.
I advised her to also submit it to Newsweek's "My Turn" column, with my full wishes for us all to experience how this touches, teaches and passes on, as stories are meant to do, an opportunity, as the solar return today promises to offer, to initiate profound healing and transformation. Here it is, to mark this sixth anniversary as a call to begin again.
Let me know what you think -
The Fly That Wouldn't Die - by Norma Rappl
I always thought that I was overly sensitive and wished it wouldn’t be that way. I didn’t realize just how sensitive I was until earlier this summer. I started seeing flies in my home. Usually, there were only one or two at a sighting. I only saw them in the kitchen near the front window or in the bathroom. They were those big horse flies.
Do you remember flypaper? I had mentioned my problem to a friend on the phone. This happens every year in the summer. This year the flies were bigger and seen on a daily basis. My friend said that she had some flypaper and would bring some over for me to use. I put some up over the sink by the front window where I had seen most of the flies.
Two days later, I had my first and only prisoner. A large fly got caught in the flypaper by the back leg and wing. That fly wasn’t caught good enough to stop all motion. Well, he buzzed and tried to get free for days but, of course, it was hopeless. I was waiting for death to come. After four days, he wasn’t getting any weaker. He was just buzzing louder and trying harder to get away but to no avail.
I started talking to him to just give up because he would die anyway. Then I started praying for death to take him. The fact that I had captured one of God’s creatures and he was suffering brought the tears. Before long, I was sobbing and feeling really bad. I thought, “How stupid of me to be crying over a housefly.” It got so bad that I was comparing this to the crucifixion of Christ on the cross. How sad is that?
I have no problem killing flies with a swatter. No suffering. Instant death. It was then I realized I feel bad killing anything. I can do it if needed. As long as it is instant, I have no problem with it. I just “suck it up” as it were.
On this fourth day, I could not take it any longer. The buzzing, suffering fly was getting the best of me. I took the step stool, a Wegman’s plastic bag and a paper towel and set up for the final kill over the sink. I brought the bag up over the flypaper and, using the paper towel, I released the flypaper that immediately stuck to the side of the bag. The buzzing was really loud as the flypaper doubled over onto the live body and dropped partially into the bag. I said a prayer and sobbed, “You had to die anyway. I’m sorry you had to suffer.”
I carried the bag with the body out to the garbage can and dropped it in. I went back inside and cried for another hour or so. Needless to say, I have gone back to my old way of swatting flies when I see them. In four days, I only had the one fly on the flypaper and didn’t even see another fly for two weeks.
It is impossible for me to understand how humans can kill other humans. I have a hard time understanding the sport of hunting animals. I eat meat, know where it comes from but cannot handle the killing part of it. It is a good thing that I was born in this era so I don’t have to depend on myself for providing the food that I eat. How did I ever live through the flypaper days of childhood when there were so many bodies? I don’t remember ever hearing the buzzing when flies went to their death. I know I never cried for them before. I suppose my life experiences have brought me to understand the ugliness of man’s inhumanity to man. There seems to be no shame to killing anything these days, human, animal, or insect. I cry for the loss of any life.