Online Grief Circle

We are all carrying grief; whether it is grief of a personal loss, grief of the injustice we see and experience every day, or grief of ecological loss, grief is something that we all share. We must come together to grieve as a community, while also honoring that each of our paths through grief is unique and ultimately solitary.

I am offering an online grief circle on Sunday June 24 2018 at 11am Pacific time. We will gather on Google Hangouts to share our grief in all of it’s expressions and then invite in gratitude and compassion. From our open hearts, we can find a way to move forward.

Registration is limited to 10 people. When you register I will send you an email with suggestions for how to prepare yourself and your space for the circle and more details on what to expect.

 

PayPal link

 

That wail? The one coiled in your gut, the tip of it stuck in your throat? You fear it is too wild, too unrestrained, that if you were to let it free the force of it might just break you in two?

It is. It will. It must.

It is the sound of stars, the sound of black holes and supernova, the sound of a sun burning to its death giving us life.

It is the sound of your liberation. It is the key to your wildness and your power. Your restraint is the lock put there by those who seek to keep us quiet, passive, productive.

Let grief break you. Let our wails rise in unison, mourning all that we have lost all that has been taken from us.

And let us build a better world with the pieces, serenaded by rediscovered notes so sweet.
~Syren Nagakyrie

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Disabled Hikers

I soft launched a new project on the Equinox, Disabled Hikers: Real Information, by Disabled Hikers for Disabled Hikers. I am creating hiking guides with information that I need as a disabled person to decide whether to attempt a trail or not.

I get so frustrated with having to scour guidebooks and online articles to determine whether I should attempt a trail or not. My frustration peaked two weeks ago, when after several days of not feeling well I finally managed to pull myself from the house and go out for a short trip. After visiting a familiar trail, I decided to try another one that I had read about, and had completed another segment of. Well, it was far more difficult for my weary body than the guides had indicated. There were steep stairs that weren’t mentioned, a few very slick and narrow slopes, and other problems.

Inspiration struck. Why don’t I combine my love of hiking and the outdoors, with my dedication to activism and subverting ableism, with my writing skills? Why don’t I create the thing that I wish existed, as I so often have? I could create my own hiking guides!

So I went home and created a website. In my excitement, I posted the link on my Facebook page to share with friends, and suddenly it was being shared 50 times! And then Autostraddle included it in a link roundup, and my barely-there blog was receiving hundreds of visits. That was followed by some shares from my personal blog, which also received hundreds of visits.

The response continues to be overwhelmingly positive, and I am very honored and admittedly a little surprised. I knew this was a need but I didn’t realize how much of a need. There are many people out there doing good work around accessibility and the outdoors, and I plan to feature as much of their work as I can, but for now my focus is on building the website, creating hiking guides, and spreading the word.

DisabledHikers.com now exists, and the first guide is up, with several more currently being written. It is a hefty task – each hike, when taken with the perspective of writing a guide, takes twice as long as usual. The guide takes at least 3 hours to research, write, and edit, and an additional 1-2 hours to format, edit photos, and post on the website. Then I spend several hours promoting the site so people know about the resource. All in all, I spend at least 10 hours publishing each guide.

I’m sharing this with you only because I think there is not enough transparency about the time it takes for people to put together projects and offer them to the community. The time I spend on this is time that I do not get to spend on other paying projects and opportunities. I offer this from my heart, in service to the community, because it is something that I want to exist. And yet, as a disabled person myself, I have to be honest about my abilities and resources and their limitations.

My plan for the website includes adding hikers and guides from other areas, additional resource and technical guides, a range of media offerings, and a community forum. I’ll be making print copies of the guides to give to organizations, and eventually publish a guidebook. I’m excited about the project and the possibilities.

If you want to help, you can do that by spreading the word and sharing the website, sending me links to people and groups who might be interested in the project or in speaking with me about it, or by contributing to my Patreon.

I hope this project provides a valuable resource to disabled hikers and disabled would be hikers. While nature is not a cure-all, my time in the outdoors has been profoundly healing, has helped me regain my confidence, and given me a home that I can always return to. I want to give that opportunity to as many people as I can, both for themselves and for the places they will come to love.

 

 

The Last Time

It has been a year since I wrote this piece to read at Grief Rites in Portland, Oregon. It has previously been shared only within the grief support group I administer and with my patrons. If you would like to hear me read it along with two poems, join my Patreon.

The sky outside my bedroom window is dark, the first rays of light trapped behind heavy clouds. Only omens come at this hour. As consciousness seizes me, I notice the look on my husband’s face, and the words “honey, its your mom, someone died” flee his lips. What? No. One of the dogs? Maybe a grandparent. Or my dad? Oh god. He thrusts the phone into my hand like some infected thing, and I take it.

Mom? Through the sobs I make out “your sister is dead. Jen is dead” and I sense time and space – of my world as I know it – being suddenly ripped apart. My thoughts scurry away from me as my body freezes. I feel completely dislocated from this moment, the veiled heaviness of the sky obscuring my presence.

I ask “what happened?”, as if my mother, barely able to say two words, would be able to tell me. In the few moments it bought me I quickly shuffled through the cards in my brain, looking for the instructions labeled “what to do if your sister just died and your mother is begging you to fix it”. Nothing. Shit. Alright. Another phrase flashes through my brain: In case of emergency break glass. Air rushes into my lungs, and I quickly ground and center myself. Yes, remember your training, Syren. The mantle of priestess goes on, blanketing my own emotions. I console my mother as best I can, while listening to my father speak to the police in the background. My mother keeps repeating: “she’s dead. I don’t know. I should have done something. I need you here.”

I hang up the phone and look for my husband who is rushing to get ready for work. I grab his arm and turn to look at him – as he puts his arms around me I allow myself one moment of sobs. “We have to go” I say.

Phone calls, internet searches, how can plane tickets be so expensive? clothes tossed into bags, ‘oh gods what are we going to do about the dogs?’ – note left for neighbor. Two hours later and we’re sitting in PDX waiting for our flight across the country. 8 hours. I have 8 blessed hours to breathe, and relax, and find some space within myself before I have to start swimming through miasma of pain and sorrow.

It had been two years since we last saw each other.
I know this, because I left the day before her 30th birthday. And she died two months after her 32nd.

She had talked about how wonderful it would be to have me there to celebrate the big Three-Oh. But I knew that was probably not going to happen. Ten days has generally been the longest I could visit home before things went south, and to stay that long would have been two weeks, the breadth of time from Winter Solstice to her birthday.

It was New Years Eve; my husband, my father, my sister, and a little too much alcohol was bound to be a volatile combination. Some argument about laws and politics, but it could have been about anything. It doesn’t take much to tread old scars, to scratch at barely concealed wounds.

We left the next day, while she sat in her room, barely a word of goodbye.

It would be the last time I went home while she was alive.

A year or so ago, she came into a discussion about racism on my Facebook wall. She quickly derailed, while I did my best to remain calm and compassionate. She spouted off hateful things at me. It was pretty obvious she was in another episode of mental instability. She unfriended me and said she didn’t want to speak to me anymore.

And I was fine with that.

I called it boundary-making. I called it self care. There is only so much familial instability one can handle, so many arguments, so many words flung in a panic of mania and anger. I loved her. But I couldn’t do it.

We didn’t speak again until this February. She called me a day or two before I left for India. She told me she was sorry, that she couldn’t let me leave without saying that she loved me and always would. Sisters are forever.

At least, that is what we always thought.

On March 2nd, a week before she died, she sent me another message. “I love my Sister. She is amazing and I couldn’t imagine my life without her” the meme said. I could feel her uncertainty, her shaking hand holding the olive branch, the simple statement and question: do you still love me? I didn’t know what to do or what to say, I still had so many mixed emotions and I was so busy. So all I said was “cute”.

We will never speak again.

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The BIG Polytheist Patreon Creator Pledge Network

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Image by Danica Swanson

I have taken the BIG (basic income guarantee) Polytheist Patreon Creator Pledge !

The what?! 🙂

Its a pledge network created by Danica Swanson, as inspired by Scott Santens. Both Danica and I have been supporters and advocates for an unconditional basic income for many years. We all suffer under the protestant work ethic and the requirement to conscript our time in the service of capital. As a polytheist creator and community builder, I would much rather offer my time in service to creativity,  devotion, and community. And I think our world could be vastly improved if more people were able to offer their time to the things that most call to their own hearts! What could you do if you knew you were guaranteed to receive an income every month, enough to meet at least part of your basic needs?

Of course, a socially provided basic income is probably a long way off in the US. But we are seeing movement in that direction, and Patreon is a step! Community support of creators through providing us a guaranteed income every month allows us to meet some of our basic needs. Every hour you ‘purchase’ for us is an hour we do not have to sell to capitalism; it is an hour we can spend to bring the world the work of our hearts.

I have pledged that every dollar above US $1000 per month will be pledged to other polytheists on Patreon who make the same commitment to limit their patronage goal in support of a basic income for all. 

It is my hope that through this pledge network we can not only raise awareness about basic income, but help more polytheists receive the support that they need. This will enrich our communities and help shift the often-unspoken expectation that we offer our work and service for free.

If you are a polytheist or animist on Patreon and would like to take the same pledge, contact Danica at shrine.of.skadi at Google mail.  Curious to learn more? Check out her page here .

Eve of the Elections, Precipice of Change. And a new Grief Support group

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today on the eve of the elections to face our fear and commit our hearts to the work of a better world.

Or something like that.

If you are hoping for something light and inspiring telling you that we have the power to change everything if we wield our magic and our will, you won’t get that here today. I’m also not going to shame you into voting or not voting. If you’re feeling anxious and fearful, that is very real and I’m not going to tell you to make it go away with positive thinking. You’ve been brow beaten with all of that enough. I am going to be honest with you though and share with you where I am and what I’m seeing.

And well, I’m really really worried. I haven’t felt so ominous since the days leading up to September 11 2001. It feels like we are at the top of a roller coaster, having slowly creaked and clacked our way up, and now we know something is coming but we don’t know exactly what – a long drop probably, and a bunch of twists and turns and loops that will leave us confused and knocked around, but hopefully exhilarated at the end.

Whatever happens in the elections isn’t going to change that. It might change the speed; are we on a super fast coaster or an old wooden one? But regardless we have a long and bumpy ride ahead of us. We’ve reached a point of no return and the only way off this ride is through it.

If anything is giving me hope, it is that it seems like more and more people are finally seeing behind the curtain, are acknowledging our political machine for what it is: an elaborate and complex thing that is held up by the bodies of the oppressed, to the benefit of the rich and powerful. We are all being played by the system, pitted against one another, divided and conquered. Capitalism and kyriarchy rules us all.

That isn’t going to change by voting. Never. Two party, Third party, makes no difference. Even the most ideal candidate is vested in maintaining the machine. I’m not going to say voting is pointless, or that not voting is valid protest, but voting isn’t going to save us. No one in a position of power in the greatest Empire the world has ever seen is going to save us.

It really is up to each of us.

Change is going to have to happen on the ground in our communities. It always has and always will. This is why we are so swept up in promises and appearances of change (Obama, Sanders, and H. Clinton, and even Trump) – because real change is hard and we would still rather not shoulder the burden. But I am convinced that whatever way this election goes we are going to have to finally get REALLY REAL about building community and creating change where we are.

Focus your power and your magic and your will on that. Even if you are still vested and believe in the political-capitalist machine as it runs now. We have to figure out how to meet people where they are, where our hard boundaries are and what we will do to defend them, and how to support and be in community with others who are suffering. We have to do this now.

Doing this work won’t take away your anxiety or fear, but it will help. And it is essential to the safety of PoC, LGBTQ people, women, the disabled, the poor, and everyone who is being Othered.

I’ll be working on some more well thought out posts about tools and methods for building community. In the meantime I have two offerings to help us do that:

If you are staying home Tuesday night and want some company as the election results come in, I will be online on a video conferencing platform beginning at 5:30p Pacific time. If you want the link, just contact me or comment here. You do not need to install any software and set up anything.

As I deepen my grief work, I want to specifically focus on the needs of pagans, polytheists, animists, spirit workers, and the like. I have created a Facebook group called Pagan and Polytheist Grief Support as a place for our grief to be heard and witnessed as well as for the discussion of traditions and cultural and community based approaches to death and grief work. Whether it is the result of personal loss such as divorce, the death of a loved one, or stems from disability, oppression, politics, or ecological distress, all forms of grief are valid and welcome.

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Caryatid Bearing Her Stone by Auguste Rodin PC: S. Nagakyrie It seems like we all feel like this right now