In Grade 7, I created a goddess for a school assignment: I named her Lavender, and made a shield representing her traits of wisdom, mercy and kindness. As I recall, part of the assignment was to write a letter to our god or goddess. I was mesmerised by this project that harnessed my creative energies under the auspices of studying Greek and Roman mythology.

That year, I found myself writing to Lavender in the diary my parents had given me for Christmas: it was a small lined booklet with a picture of a young woman and man holding hands in the woods on its cover. It had a little lock on it and I kept the key hidden in my underwear drawer. For me, my love of writing was ignited as soon as I began reading, and I did so voraciously. I would read, always with the thought humming in the background, “You can do this, too!”

This writing, however, was different. It began as the diurnal dronings of an adolescent. Lee Ann invited me to her house after school today. We made ice cream sundaes and drove her dad’s truck in the backfield. Then we listened to the Bay City Rollers. It was fun. But then it gradually began shifting. As I wrote about my daily doings, I began to let my mind wander to anxieties that I was experiencing. What can I do to make the popular girls like me? Why do I feel so ugly? Am I going to hell?  The questions went from shallow to cavernous, but all of them mattered deeply to me.

As I asked these questions, addressed to Lavender, I found that she could answer with wisdom and compassion. I began saving one side of my journal for questions and the other side for answers. The Lavender answers began taking up more room than my diary had room for. I graduated to notebooks. Throughout high school we wrote back and forth, and I began talking to Lavender, realising she could respond through me, talking with my voice. All I needed was to be still and open.

What took me a long time to recognise was that Lavender was indeed the wise part of me. Some people call this the Wise Sage. I never considered my relationship with Lavender odd, though I have guarded her closely and shared of her fleetingly and with very few people.  This relationship felt private and like something people might not understand. These days, however, I have nothing to lose. I bare my soul willingly, having received so many gifts of acknowledgement that what I share is helping others as they heal from their various maladies. I would suggest that you all have your own wise sages within.

I am in the position of wanting relief so badly that I am open to all modalities that can help me heal. I don’t want to ‘get over’ Emily, but I do want to get over the intense grief that has gripped me until very recently. Sometimes all I’ve had energy in the day for beyond my gentle healing rituals that I’m engaging in is to eat some granola and Greek yogurt with some frozen blueberries. Taking out and putting away those three things can feel exhausting. Heart work is hard work.

Because I’ve been open to this quintessence or spiritual side of me for much of my life, I am not closed off to healing through any number of ways. I’ve been doing some hypnosis and guided meditations that are providing me much needed calm in my life. I am meditating and reading words of wisdom from spiritual masters; also, I’ve allowed myself to be back in touch with my wise self, my Lavender, as I start to come up for air. I am remembering that she is the greater part of me: the part that can help me to make decisions, find clarity, be present, and find gratitude and purpose, even in life’s deepest tragedies.

Earlier this week, I embarked on a guided meditation with my therapist that I found enormously comforting. As I am always one to make myself at home, I kicked off my boots, laid prone on the sofa in her office, swaddled my feet with the hood of my down coat, and commenced deep breathing. The first thing we did was focus on the subtle vibration all around my body, that tingling in the extremities that you can feel when you are tuned in and still. Then she asked me to bring into that energy field all the love, well wishes, prayers, and comfort that people had been sending to me, and I felt this deep acceptance of what so many of you have been offering. I’ve often wondered how to receive prayers and such, and in that moment I understood. I took them all in.

Next, I began envisioning people who might want to join me in my relaxed state, whether passed or present, imaginary or real. Immediately, I felt two warm occupants to my left: my Emily and my Mama, who passed five years ago. I smiled, happy that they were together. Lavender was there, too, hovering respectfully at a distance. On my right hand side were all my grandparents, whom I had adored. Nothing was said. I just felt completely bathed in love and acceptance. Interestingly, the only living person who showed up was my soul sister, Heather. She has been a deep and abiding presence in my life now for more than 30 years. Our connection has always gone well beyond the distance we’ve been apart in miles. Joyously, we will be together very soon: this week when we head over to Vancouver Island to stay with her; and soon, after all these many years of distance, she will be my near-neighbour when we relocate to our Little River home this summer.

This short foray into the surreal left me with so much peace, so much acceptance. I know I can call forth this divine wisdom I have from Lavender and I can envision the golden light of love I am surrounded by with all those who love me here and beyond at any time I become quiet and ready to receive. 

After reading the blog today, my friend, Sharon, and one of Emily’s homeroom teachers from Grade 8 shared this photo with me. Serendipity…