Fierce

I'm still sorting through the fucking shards of March's pi bomb. Nonetheless, I can feel some resolve steeping in the murky ooze. I wrote to someone yesterday these (among other) words:

"While I've always valued forgiveness as a premier healer... not this time. [She] has taught me that some things are unforgivable. Maybe, this, too shall pass... but I'm not feeling it at present."

And I'm not. For the first time in my life I'm reevaluating the healing power of forgiveness. This, to many - if not most - of those in my healing circles would be judged unconscionable. And even with that consideration, and the possibility of being shunned by a critical support system, I'm willing.

Willing to be fierce.

The hen pictured in this post is named Salty, Salty the Straw Boss. When we first got her my spouse looked at her and said, "she's fierce." I didn't see it. Not really. Yet, in comparison with her flock members (all of whom she's outlived) I was able fathom his perception. Even with the new little flock, she is top of the pecking order. She's different in appearance, and in demeanor from her peers. She's a survivor. She's past her prime, yet still laying eggs. She is fierce.

I don't know what Salty has to do with this forgiveness journey of mine, but she's one of our flock of four layers that sustains me, entertains me, that inspires me to laugh, and that lightens a heavy heart.

And that's the Medicine I seek now: The sustaining Medicine that lightens a heavy heart. And right now that feels like Humor.

Yes.

Humor.

Dark, fierce, unforgiving humor.

I think I'm ready.

Peace. 🕊