Sunday, June 2, 2024

Grieving at Unexpected Changes

Some things are harder to talk about than others. I’ve delayed this post for several days while I ponder what I want to do, if anything.

The yard where I keep my shrine here in Rochester was visited by over-zealous landscapers.

This wasn’t the idea, of course. We all agreed that it would be a fabulous thing: the landscaper would remove leaves, mow and edge the lawn, drag off the appreciable tree-fall. I asked if the service could be extended to the leaves inside the shrine.

It was, but they didn’t stop there. When I arrived back from my most recent trip, all but the three largest plants had been swept away. There were no leaves in the shrine, but also almost nothing living. Hekate’s dog bones, also gone. The statues themselves are unbroken, but the serenity that used to inhabit the place is gone.

When I discovered the state of affairs, I left immediately, with my heart in my mouth. I returned to the shrine this morning, with flowers and the intent to undo some of the damage. I cleaned the birdbath and the mirror pool on the Set-Typhon altar but couldn’t find any of the vases that used to hold the flowers or the scissors I used to cut them. I left incense after having asked the shrine deities to help me decide what to do.

The rational mind is of little help here. Clearly, we all had the best intentions, including the guys who were working for the landscapers. At the moment, I feel like this is the universe telling me to leave nothing behind when I move away from Rochester. This will happen soon, so maybe it’s time to return the shrine to its previous condition, "de-sacralizing" it? Or should I try to grow more plants? Or just wait for the tiny ivy plants to re-establish themselves?

I’m incredibly disappointed, and uncertain of how to handle the situation. So much like the rest of life, when unexpected crises happen…I'll be watching, listening and waiting for inspiration.

Blessed be thou.