Our Winter in Spring continues here, as a new storm moved in on Wednesday and the second hits today through Sunday bringing more snow to the already thawing landscape. You can see in these windowscapes of our backyard, how things keep bouncing back and forth by the day

The seasons are being fickle with my bulbs who oscillate between the experience of receiving both sunshine and snow kisses.

On our way out for a walk at the other end of town, the morning of the first of these late storms, I snapped a few photos of some of my bulb baby clusters sprouting with glee and the very first crocus blooms.

Last year it was the yellow crocus who burst forward first and this year it’s all about the purple babies, which feels fit since I’ve been wearing a lot of purple and immersing in my amethyst crystal friends – a favorite of my rabbit and tortoise companions.

I am hoping to get out perhaps next week to clean up the perimeter of the house from Autumn and Winter shedding, but that will depend if the forecast holds long enough to provide me days of sunshine and melted ground. It will be a big undertaking again, but I do want my blossoms to have a nice welcoming and there’s great satisfaction clearing the old away.

I’m so excited for all of these beauties to emerge. You may recall that each year I keep adding more and more bulbs, which I’ll do again this Fall. It’s the perfect rebirthing energy to open new doorways and it’s going to be glorious!

And glorious is also the aroma wafting through the house right now from the oven. I’m baking one of my favorites – a crumb cake – while writing this share as the falling snow frames the peripheral of my vision in the garden patiently waiting to awaken.

It all feels nostalgic, which somehow feels perfect for this season of transition we’ve entered once again, both in the outer world visual landscapes and in the inner world emotional ones.

It’s hard to believe that it will already be seven months, on the 30th, that Astrid has been physically gone from our lives. It seems like yesterday, but that yesterday is now so far away.

Which brings me to this week’s pivotal shift that took place within the gateway of the Libra Full Moon Lunar Eclipse that I felt important to express with my friends here who are a special part of our lives.

It is with great sadness that I share our sweet boy, Boojum, has joined Astrid in the stars.

He had a rapid decline starting Friday the 22nd, which at first seemed to be one of his uremic episodes he bounces back from. This time it went longer and the effects took him out much more physically to a state that hinged on any-moment-surprise-trauma. Interestingly, I’ve noted that Boojum is very tied in with the Full Moons and in fact many of his previous episodes have all culminated on and around them in the past. I had a sense, even before the episode started, that this Full Moon Lunar Eclipse could be much bigger for him – likely the end – and started preparing Dave when in fact he did start his decline.

When he didn’t turn around like other episodes, I knew this was a pivotal point.

As mentioned in other posts, Sweet Pea came to Dave just before he and I started dating and Boojum came just months after. So while they are connected to Dave, foremost, I have been in their lives nearly since the very start with Sweet Pea and in fact from the beginning with Boojum. Dave is deeply connected to cats, like I am with rabbits, and so it is even harder for him to go through this loss after having these soulmates in his life between 15 and 16 years (they’re both nearly 17 years old). So, it would also be for him to decide if and when to assist either of them before any traumatic incidents and suffering occurred.

With a Libra Full Moon, relationships and partnerships are highlighted, and the portal that opened with this one was indeed one of endings. The kind of endings that lead to new beginnings and fostering new layers to relationships both within oneself and without – even if at yet they’re unseen.

Over the months, weeks, and days we’ve had to keep assessing things to make sure our kitty babies were having quality of life and when experiences would potentially surpass that. The day before the Full Moon, a lot of processing took place and it was in fact on Monday, March 25th’s Full Moon Eclipse when Dave knew what his decision must be for Boojum’s sake, although his heart would rather choose otherwise.

He made the call to see about scheduling Boojum’s transition and was surprised when our go-to person said she was available that very evening. It could have taken place on the actual day of the Full Moon Eclipse, but this proved to be shockingly too soon for Dave, so instead we scheduled the next evening to give us a full day with Boojum.

And that’s exactly what the 26th was – Boojum day. We both put aside everything else and did nothing but lay with him and our little family throughout the day, as that was all he wanted to do – be with us snuggled in our comfort.

That morning started off quite potent though. Dave got up, while I lingered in bed with both of the cats. I heard a bang and then the downstairs sliding door open and close. Dave then appeared in our room cupping something in his hands. He was distraught as he walked over to me, opened his hands and gently handed me a precious little bird.

I knew what had happened. The bird had hit our window and Dave had retrieved him from the ground. He said he was still alive when he picked him up, and he hoped that his warmth and Reiki would revive him. When he handed the little one over, he wasn’t aware he had died. I told him he had passed peacefully with him. Dave told me he was too fragile to handle this, too, right now and walked out of the room leaving me with the little bird.

I decided to stay there with the bird for a while, doing energy work to go backwards in time to the impact and support him through the entire journey with loving energy. Then assisted the transition to the Cosmos and felt to share the little bird with Boojum. Both cats were with me, but didn’t seem interested until I let Boojum connect and he leaned in to gently touch him with his nose. Boojum had always been a gentle boy.

There was indeed alchemy woven in the experience between Dave and the bird and the bird and Boojum. It felt to me that this bird had consciously played a part for this process. I think you can connect your own dots. I buried the sweet little one in my garden with a tiny quartz crystal and flower, and covered the grave with one of my rock finds from the area, adorned with blue quartz.

Oddly, just several days before this, I heard banging inside our chimney followed by bird cries from within. I knew a bird had somehow gotten down it and was stuck. More banging, more crying…I was worried and trying to figure out what to do, while hoping for the little one to find his/her way out. Sweet Pea was equally on alert, laying near the fireplace and looking with wide eyes each time the sounds came from the chimney. But the bird did find their way out and for about twenty minutes after the incident, I kept seeing and hearing a bird outside squawking quite a bit. I feel it was the one who had gotten trapped inside, voicing his/her relief from the fear and struggle. That also seemed reflective.

And then the third incident happened – things do go in waves of three – as just yesterday the 28th I found another dead beauty when we woke up for breakfast, laying on the fresh snow bed that cradled her now lifeless body. She looked like she had just passed from also hitting one of our other big windows. I carried her in, but only told Dave who watched me go outside, rather than showing him so as not to bring more pain to his grieving. It was very sad to have all of this happen in such a short span. And yet it all feels connected and weaving a potent alchemy. A bird hitting your window heralds significant change and new phase in life.

I buried this beauty with a tiny quartz crystal and sprig of pine next to the other one in my garden that has become an animal sanctuary on many levels.

Everything is connected.

We’ve now ordered the same special stickers we used to have in our treehouse at the very top of the mountain in our condo before moving here. These have special reflectors to warn birds.

And that brings us back to sweet Boojum.

In recent weeks, I noted how both Boojum and Sweet Pea had started seeking me out when I’m downstairs in my office – a place they normally stayed away from since they knew it was Astrid’s domain. Even after Astrid transitioned, they still didn’t want to pass the threshold of the door, nor go downstairs that much. Her presence is still powerfully present.

But each of the kitties began to look for me there, cry out to me, and want to be with me on my lap at my desk.

I knew a shift was happening, as I’ve always noted that animals in pain or transitioning seek me out.

I gently would draw things to Dave’s attention, as to prepare him step-by-step. We’ve known conditions and possibilities for the kitties for a while, so this helped in preparations behind the scenes. With Astrid it was a surprise, and that suited me more, which she knew. And although I’ve known the reality of things looming with sped up, approaching time, it’s taken a while for Dave to allow himself to fully go there. So it was good to have things go more slowly than a surprise blow for him. Especially after already having to go through Astrid’s departure. Each of our soul companions know what is best for us.

And I believe we do the very best we know how to for them.

When we learned of the critical points each of our kitties had reached, we made a commitment not to travel and just be with them at home to administer all their meds and to share all the love. In fact we cancelled two trips we had planned around my birthday because it was more important to make the most of our time together.

And that’s just what we did on Boojum’s last physical day with us. As I mentioned above, we stopped the clock on everything and literally just spent the day snuggled up on the bed together as a family with him, as all he wanted to do was cuddle, be cuddled and comforted, and rest. That’s actually really all he wanted in his last days. He’d follow us around everywhere we went and just wanted us to hold him. So we did.

And we made sure, just as we did with Astrid, to each write and read him a special message before his departure. Dave also sang him a song and he sat on the couch the whole time listening.

I won’t share the whole passage I did with Boojum, but I do want to share these parts as they feel to speak to something key to pass along in message.

“…I’m so grateful for the gifts you’ve given to me. They weren’t always easy to see at first, nor to embrace in the moment, but you helped me to ponder the beauty of all that comes before me. And that includes you. The way you live for the moment and know nothing of a past or future. The way you sucked the marrow of life, which is one of the things most people don’t know how to do, long for, and fall short in ever experiencing. The way you cradled your earthly embodiment as the gift and miracle that it is – really living and loving for the sensuality of this experience like no other. You taught me and anyone who was present to your alchemy, how rich this life is and the reasons why we embody here. Not merely to go about the stresses we add onto our lives to live for a day that may never come, but to REALLY BE in body and drink of its wine right here and now. All of the earthly pleasures, you knew so well, how to luxuriate in as the mysterious black panther prince that you are and always will be…

…Your heart is kind. Your mind a bit crafty and even at times bratty, but it was all part of your calling our attention to nurture a love for our feelings and desires in the moment…to not push away joy and breathing in what was possible to have now. It was at times hard to swallow, but that is because we’re taught not to honor these feelings. You were right there always saying, “yes” to all that you want…and teaching us the same…to say “yes” to all that brings our hearts joy. So thank you. I may not have said it enough and took me long to see it, but I have come to understand your alchemy and will not forget it in the days ahead. And I’m sure you won’t let me, as you continue to make your presence known from where you are headed…”

We lit a candle and were all together in our home and space we shared, to support him on into the eternal.

It was a beautiful, peaceful and sacred experience. Unforgettable, just as Boojum is.

After, we went for a walk out behind the house in the forest and it was a beautiful sunset sky celebrating Boojum in heavenly peach clouds serenaded by a pack of coyotes in the near distance.

We have so many wonderful memories to draw upon and call up when we need to transmute the pain.

He was such a character and made an impression on everyone – usually imparting many giggles. He pranced across the floor on his toes, galloped like a tiny pony, and proudly humped his Humpty Bear (despite being fixed) without any qualms that eyes were upon him – in fact he hoped so lol! 

I will miss the sweet moments and how my singing was able to lull him into peace, especially if he was scared or not feeling well.

I will miss his googly eyes locking with mine as I whispered “Boogish” over and over in his ears.

I will miss him riding proudly like the prince he is, excited to be swung over mom’s shoulder and carried everywhere like this.

And I’ll especially miss the way he paused time and softened me with his slow motion, outstretched arm reach to touch my face with his paw. Something he did over and over on his last morning with dozens of intentional paw presence all over my face to let me know he “would always be right here,” just like E.T. said to Elliott with his touch before departure back home to the Cosmos.

We’ve kept relatively quiet to ourselves again with this process until it was over, as it’s been important to us to create these intimate spaces to anchor in the love as a family.

But because you’ve been a part of our journey, and have shared your love with our fur children, we share this sacred passage with you.

It’s a way I heal through sharing and vulnerability, as writing is very cathartic for me.

It also feels important because of all the grief so so many are navigating these days individually and collectively – a way to help flow that energy and to know its presence in our lives is a rich weaving we share, although feels otherwise.

As I wrote before:

Grief is challenging for most people, as when you’re in the midst of it or it comes on fast, it can feel quite traumatic and send a ripple of downward spiraling and feel never-ending until or unless the softening occurs. One never really ends grief, but it does fade and joy can actually reside alongside pain and loss. In fact, grief and pain can actually be a connective bridge for joy and sweetness. And while grief comes in waves of intensities, between those waves and even after the crest of each, pockets of potential are activated that only the doorway of pain helps to access.

We grow through the pains and rise from the ashes by leaning into the inherent beauty of each piece of wholeness.

An end of an era continues here for us, with the passing of two of our three fur children within seven months and our third nearing her own day, which I trust she’ll navigate beautifully too.

In the meantime, we’re embracing each day fully with the courageous Sweet Pea who is going through her own evolution, while of course helping us with our own as well. She was the first and she’ll be the last. A full circle indeed, but also like a spiraling, unwinding itself and preparing to spiral anew.

And there’s a lot of full circle going on I see, as today’s Good Friday marks 21 years ago that Nestor – my twin soul in rabbit form – first came into my life in 2003. That was the beginning of an era for me that has shifted so much and during which I’ve seen six dear soul companions in animal bodies move on.

There’s been a huge deepening for both Dave and I through all of this. Individually and together it’s all added richness and I know will continue even though right now the other side is not yet seen.

I know that Dave will go through his own opening, as I have, through the passing of his closest companions, but unlike the last time he lost his beloved twin soul in cat body in 2008, this time he is not alone in processing the grief. He’s doing beautifully and I’m proud of how he, too, is navigating this transformation.

The hardest part was in the letting go and making the decision. He has since felt relief, although mourns the loss that taxes his heart strings to their resiliency depths.

And relief is shared on my end, while I process the grief as well. Relief knowing Boojum is at peace and now in his expansiveness to be part of my team. I look forward to the magick and mystery Mr. Jaguar shapeshifter will bring into my days and work ahead and to his beloved dad too.

So yes, a lot of releasing, relief, resiliency, and rebirthing dancing in our days. I feel that is not ours alone as experience, but a collective tapestry shared.

I’m reminded for some reason of the time, three years ago, when our little family was in refuge as evacuees from the fires. I remember seeing a large spider’s web at our garage door when we headed out and locked up our house, carrying our three fur babies with us. Webs reflect spider’s resiliency to build and rebuild, even if their web is destroyed. 

I wrote this during that time:

“I feel we are much more resilient than we think or give ourselves credit for – just like the enduring and adaptable cactus I’ve found around me recently, too, that speak to our survival and protection even amidst challenges, but in a way that creates thriving.

The human body is miraculous and the heart is an alchemist. Even though we keep getting thrown a bunch of curve balls and continue having the rug pulled out from under us with everything going on in the world, time and time again, we’ve proven we have the ingenuity to recreate and rise again.

However, in the midst of it all we need to remind ourselves about the importance of refuge – both to create this within ourselves, but also to create spaces for this in our lives in either literal ways of a safe haven, a supportive community, or recharging outlet of some sort. It’s true, this could be a home, but it could also be what ever makes you feel at home, energized, and fills your well. We need to take time for ourselves, not be afraid to ask for help – as any form of family can be refuge from harsh experiences, and be willing to seek out or build this if one doesn’t exist. Opening our hearts to, or helping to create this for others, are gifts we can also provide in the form of refuge.

And maintaining that relentless commitment becomes vital to anything we want to manifest and see in our lives and out there in the world. Remembering not to give up too soon, as sometimes when things seem the hardest, is when we need to stay the course the most. Changes can be right around the corner, but we’ll never know if we don’t stay consistent, persistent, dedicated, and focused. It’s easy to get off track with everything that comes at us, so having markers in place as reminders, staying aware to the messages coming at you, and souls in human or animal bodies (or even just guides in general) who care about you to give you that encouragement, can all be super beneficial. Also, even when things feel like they’ve arrived, the way to ensure they are a mainstay is to consistently embody that energy and not let down your awareness and connection to intentional living. Remember my mention of hawk in my last post and the message they carry of “clarity and vision…the ability to hone in on something (the micro) within the wide (macro) expanse and to be able to go directly to the goal with absolute bullseye focus.” If you really want something, you’ll come to see how truly important it really is by how much you walk the talk of that intention, hope, or dream.

We’re in some fertile and vital times as humanity and this speaks to me of each of us deciding how important what we talk about truly is to us. And if it is, I know we have the resiliency to see it through and the support matching our level of commitment. I also know how important creating times, spaces, places, or groups of refuge for ourselves is key for our well being and capacity to rebuild a new reality.

Like castles in the sand, life is impermanent and its beauty is meant to be cherished moment to moment without attachment to any fixed idea or length we think it should be or last.

There’s something to be said for those experiences of building and creating when you’re engaged in the fleeting moment to experience the rush of imagination and possibility at its height.

And even when the ebbs and flows of life wash over us, there’s this feeling of wonder that lingers in the sands that carry renewal in their memory.

Hope is never lost.

We can rebuild and dream again and again…potential is unlimited.”

With Easter just two days away, thoughts of rebirth and hope are strongly on the mind.

We got to visit my parents last Sunday for a nice afternoon of lunch and a symphony show, which gave us a chance to enjoy their Spring display of Easter-inspired decorations more than just once.

We’ll be heading down again to share in a family celebration and the warmth my parents will create for all of us and a friend we’ll be bringing since he’s always on his own at holidays.

But I did get a chance to snap a few happy shots of the sweet Spring animals and vibrant blooming colors they already had lighting up the house to share the hope.

And took this sweet video of their new dancing bunnies in a cosmic egg.

The sky and landscape were equally beautiful that day on our travels back home up the mountain, framing this whole experience of Boojum’s transition with a heavenly journey.

We continue to soak in each day and do our best to mirror Boojum’s mastery of the moment and what truly living is all about.

Where it takes us is a mystery worthy of embracing.

The end is just the beginning.