Full Catastrophe Living

 

“'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” -  Alfred Tennyson

 

To be Alive

To be truly alive

Is to feel.

To feel all the sensations.

The passion,

The pain,

The love,

And then,

To take in the magnificence of it all,

To experience it unbridled down to the depths of your soul.

To know it.

Remembering the pain, but marrying yourself to the love.  –HLC 

For years, the Pacific waters of Southeast Alaska have drawn me in to their magnificence. There is something sacred in the primeval wildness of it all.  The land unencumbered.  The waters clear, yet, full of life.  

And also, full of death.  The realness of life cycles as nature intended.  No euphemisms to shield the truth.  No pretending.  Beauty unfathomed.  Fjords, water and sky.  All of the elements unrestricted.  Birth, life, death.  Life is finite. The time we have is a gift, and so is being alive in all our moments the easy and the difficult.  Knowing deep heartache, creates understanding for the beauty of simple moments as well as miriculousness  of the extraordinary ones.

Tahlequah, an orca whale in the Pacific northwest, who lost her calf in 2018, was so grief stricken she carried her dead baby on her snout for days.  After 10 days unable to eat, researchers were concerned she may also die. She carried her baby over a thousand miles for 17 days before relinquishing her to the sea.

In 2019, I had the privilege of meeting Sasha, a humpback whale.  In a small boat out on Juneau bay I watched in the distance for spouts of steam.  As I took in the feral majesty of it all, I was silently summoning whales nearby.  Calling to them, respectfully asking to make their acquaintance, it was a simple prayer in my heart.

Floating on the water with engine turned off, a sudden swell took my attention, then, just a few feet away Sasha gently rose above the surface.  Her wide eye meeting my eyes.  Time slowed as this graceful creature revealed her walnut shaped blow hole. Her steamy foul breath blowing through my hair.  I was enamored.  Had she heard my call?  I breathed in her breath.  Watched intently and loving every second of this gift.

Today I learned that Sasha’s yearling calf, Tango, recently washed up on Hump Island, north of Ketchikan. Heartbroken, I am remembering that tremendous emotion. Overwhelming love, and where is it to go?  All I could do was surrender.  Surrender to the grief.

I am so so sorry for your loss Sasha.

#Anthropomorphize.  Yes I do.