Stories Inside Stories: Death, Birth, Transitions

I am thinking about changes and transitions-- about the unexpected and even the surprise within the expected. .. Thinking about life on the homestead and about life's bigger picture --about what went down out at Standing Rock this past week and about reversals to human and environmental protections that are jarring and significant. I am thinking about all of you, getting weary, and I'm sending you some love from the homestead. 

miss you Solita. . . 
Here in a week's span we lost a pig-- a friend-- so unexpectedly.  She was a great cuddler. Our friendliest farm buddy. In the early morning, before we realized she was gone, I woke in the dark, startled by a pig outside my window.  Rousing from deep sleep, I wondered why a pig was loose in the early cold.  Seeing nothing,  I drifted back to sleep. Later, finding her still soft body, and definitely no signs of loose pigs,   I guessed she just floated through to say goodbye,  on her way down her road, on her journey.

And yesterday, after being woken in the night by a pacing,  irritated goat-- I looked to the frozen ground- the coldest in Maine's ongoing vacation from winter,  and thought, of course they'll come today. And surely, they did. Shivery, we dried them and quickly cut up little sweaters to keep them cozy. Of course, life-school took over and the babes had no shortage of warm bodies to hold them until they steadied to this new world.

The death and birth within the few days are meaningful,  reflective of the little stories within bigger stories.  We are on a journey, as change makers and creators, as activists and builders-- and we are seeing setbacks; really awful setbacks-- for our clean and free water, for our wild places, for our citizens, for our democracy. 

And yet, the story isn't finished.  We are writing it still, and when it's ended, there's sure to have been struggle and tragedy but also a great uprising of inner strength,  transformation,  and a deepening, widening love that has found its power in its sadnesses. It won't be a story about that one time we took a stand, lost, and gave up. It will be a resilient story; a healing story. We will see to the birth of a new way-- it will come through the stresses of labor and into the cold dark,  but we will be ready,  waiting for ourselves.

Thanks to the Bangor Daily News for capturing the last picture of Solita alive (first photo, of Shawn feeding pigs-- Solita is the black and white Kune Kune)-- it was a nice surprise to see her looking well just last week, and to get that delivered to my inbox via friends yesterday. 
Read the full article here: