Here is a Cecropia moth that hatched from its cocoon at our house this week. It was glorious. She had a big fuzzy body and lush velvety wings. The crescent moon was just coming up in the sky when we went outside to let her go. We noticed the moon was mirrored in her grand wings. As we sat there waiting for her to emerge from her little house (We had bought her dried-up-looking cocoon for $5 at the Magic Wingshttp://www.magicwings.com the nearby butterfly conservatory a few weeks before.) My 9 year old daughter exclaimed, “Oh look she’s pooping!” at some of the residue on the side of her mesh cage. My reply, “Oh no, that’s not poop. She can’t poop. She doesn’t even have a digestive system. She hasn’t even got a mouth.” was not reassuring. “What do you mean she doesn’t have a mouth?” She replied, disgusted with me. How could something not have a mouth?
These gorgeous moths live for 2 weeks at the very most. Maybe you’ve seen them at the tail end of those two weeks, wings tattered, floating through the air. My daughter ran off, appalled by this thick-bodied bug that couldn’t poop and I watched the insect stagger out of its mesh cage into the garden, wings moving up and down slowly.
A writer once wrote that 50% of life is grieving (http://katsuzharris.blogspot.com) and if I let myself really settle in, I could believe that was true. It has been a difficult time lately; with loss and grieving in our family. And I realized, as these weeks have gone by, that spring is a lesson in transience. Things happen so quickly, you’ve really go to take a moment and enjoy it, and, truthfully, in that moment when you really open your heart; there is some sadness. Spring will pass and summer will wane. The forsythia, the violets and the apple blossoms are gone! The Lilac flowers are rotting; brown petals falling onto the driveway.
We all had an outrageous winter here in the Northeast and waited so long for each of this epic moments (the first bare feet in the grass, the first ice cream at the Creamie, and finally waking up to LOUD birdsong) in a way it makes each one passing even sadder.
Today I gathered essential oils for a friend whose mother is dying and for a family member who has suffered great loss.
Rose, used for millenia to comfort and support the heart;
Grapefruit for optimism and hope,
Cypress, a holy tree that stands in many ancient cemeteries in Europe that helps dealing with change,
Lavender for comfort and relaxing the jumpy mind,
Ylang Ylang to foster tranquility and peace,
Frankincense to connect to the divine support that is all around us, even, and maybe especially, in times of loss.
These and other oils are supportive in times of change. They help ground us in our bodies and the world around us. Using them in a spray, roll-on, diffuser or massage oil gently makes us take the time to be present in this moment, even though this moment can be painful. They help to ease that pain of separation, reminding us we are part of this quickly changing world.
I left the moth outside to go in and sing Happy Birthday to Rob; to watch him blow out the candles on his coconut cream pie. When I came out again the moth was already gone, floating up into the night to make the most of its two weeks.
Later on our evening walk I realized even the night song of spring had already shifted. The Spring Peepers stepping into the background, letting the American Toads take over the evening song.
Here’s to you enjoying this spring however works for you. In stolen moments or long luxurious naps in the sun. The cycle of life and death so abbreviated reminds us to take in whatever nourishment we can, savoring it; even if it hurts the heart a little bit to do so.
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| Peepers, Toads and a Bullfrog under the moon |
Feel free to ask me any questions by email or phone
crowladyhealing@gmail.com, give me a call (413-325-452
