Thursday, April 7, 2022

I AM

 

Original Artwork by Ollie Brewster 
(small graphic contribution by Vicky Edgerly)


I AM

I am granddaughter to the generations that came before me.

I am grandmother to the generations that spring forth from me.

I am PRESENT in all generations….I AM

 

I am  a being of light.

I am a conduit for bringing light to the Earth.

I am kin to the very stars themselves…I AM

 

I am grounded in the physicality of Mother Earth.

Her rivers are my veins, her water is my blood.

I am a planter-of-seeds on earth…I AM

 

I am the caress of a gentle breeze, the blast of an arctic wind.

I am the first wail of a newborn

and the last breath of a dying old woman…IAM

 

I am granddaughter to the generations that came before me.

I am grandmother to the generations that spring forth from me.

I am PRESENT in all generations….I AM

by Vicky Edgerly ~ 2022


About the Above Image

The art you see above, and subsequent writing, resulted from one of my favorite human interactions to date... 

As the story goes, my eldest grandchild, Ollie, had been doing some pretty great artwork of late, and I felt compelled to having them do a custom piece for me. A portrait. 

This wasn't just any portrait.  I wanted Ollie to do a portrait of how THEY saw ME. I left it completely up to them to use whatever medium they wanted and to take as long as they needed.

It didn't take long before I received Ollie's finished portrait along with this interesting note:

"So i sat down to draw your portrait but i'm slightly afraid that it may have turned out to actually be a self portrait by accident"

Well my goodness, the moment I laid eyes on this piece I had a powerful, emotional response to it. 

In the 30 seconds that followed I suddenly just KNEW things.  Things about humanity, the Soul and the earth/body connection.  I could SEE into the past and future generations by following the umbilical cord-like stream of energy connecting us all. It was an incredible experience, one that I savored so much I just had to write about it, commemorating it to our earthly timeline records. 

So yes, Ollie, this most certainly IS a self portrait of you, the artist! Its also a portrait of me, your mother, your sisters, and all who have ever or will ever walk the earth.   

It was my joy to co-create this with you by adding my own eyes to the portrait along with the past, present, future generations graphic. For we are all are forever entwined and connected to one another, and the thread binding you and I is one spun of golden silk! 

There is much written in the vibration of this image.  I trust it will find it's way into the hearts of those who gaze upon it.  In this way, may we all begin to see each other more clearly.  May we see each other as an extension of ourselves and may we allow our hearts to open. 

Blessings,

Vicky


Vicky Edgerly is a Reiki Master and Spiritual Teacher who uses the wisdom she’s gained through study & personal experience to assist others in navigating life’s challenges.  As someone who has chosen to grow from her STE’s  (‘Spiritually Transformative Events’ ….a life event that changes one's belief systems and outlook on life), she uses her knowledge and experience to empower others.

Vicky specializes in showing folks the way through the grieving experience by applying metaphysical practices and offers private sessions as a “Grief Journey Guide”.  She has worked closely with The Afterlife Education Foundation from Portland Oregon for several years and was featured in open panel discussions at their annual conferences


Read More from Vicky Edgerly: 


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 www.whiteelephantwisdom.com


info@whiteelephantwisdom.com







Tuesday, March 22, 2022

WHAT GRIEF WANTS by Vicky Edgerly



What does my grief want from me anyway?!

I recognized during my very first grief journey that my pain was something of an enigma. Even though I didn’t want it anymore, I also didn't want anyone to try and take it from me.

 I appreciated those close to me who could sit with me and my pain….those who didn’t turn away when I dropped my veil and exposed the true nature of it.  The ugliness that it was.  I appreciated those Souls who could do that…the ones who could do that silently without agendas of their own. The ones who didn’t try to take my pain away from me. Because it was MINE….it was mine alone and no one could take it.  I would learn to resent those who tried. So yes, I guarded my pain like a jealous lover.

 "I know what it wants and I surrender..."

Today, some 20 years later, I still sit alone with my pain but it looks a lot different now.  Like lovers in a longtime relationship, we both have changed a lot along the way.  It’s quieter...we know each other so well after all these years that we can sit with each other in silence.  We can just BE together in the same room without one spoken word…there is no longer a need to name it. I know what it wants of me when it shows up at my door…there is no longer a need to search for reasons….to demand answers.  I know what it wants and I surrender.  I yield to it’s needs…I walk willingly into the familiar embrace.  I allow the pain, dulled by years of experience, tamed by my own stubborn struggle to ‘not let it win’, I allow it to envelope my whole being.  I rest my head upon it’s shoulder as we embrace and I allow the full richness of the penetrating sorrow to enter my being. I ALLOW it…I understand it’s needs. 

I used to think it came to consume me.
  Like an invasive cancerous thing that we, by nature are designed to hate….to fight against at all cost. I used to think that…before I got to know it by name.  Grief.

Turns out I misunderstood what it wanted.  It doesn’t want to fight. To do so only creates more struggle, like thrashing about while trying to escape barbed wire would. I’d only become entangled and suffer more injury in the long run, for this is a battle that will never be won.

Tuesday, April 14, 2020

Lizards & COVID-19


Since my 'nature walks' are temporarily confined to my apartment complex because of the changes COVID 19 has brought to us, I am choosing to find adventure in my somewhat limited environment.

Today, I was amused to realize just how much I have been enjoying the little lizards that run around everywhere down here in Florida. I couldn't help but notice how my relationship with them has evolved during our 'quarantine' where dozens of them skip and skitter across my footpath on my daily walk-abouts.


As I was walking this morning I passed one who had lost most of its tail....and I spoke to it words of sympathy. Then, quickly realized that sympathy wasn't needed (or desired) but instead, offered compliments on how beautiful and agile it still was, tail or no tail.


Next I saw the biggest one I've seen to date perched atop the largest rock in that section of landscaping just as pretty as you please and so I said to it, "Well, I see you've made King of the Mountain.....but what makes you so sure you belong up there?" Which, I immediately realized was not needed (or desired) so I added, "but look at how beautiful your markings are and your confidence to stand alone for all to see is inspiring!"

As I rounded a corner a few minutes later I witnessed a large lizard chasing one that was half its size and I couldn't help my first response which was to scold the big bully. "Hey! STOP that and mind your own business" but then my attention turned to the little guy who so gracefully made its hasty exit and changed my thoughts and comments to, "Oh boy look at you go! Isn't it marvelous that you have your big friend there to help push you to be the best you can be!?" because, well, my first-impression comments steeped in bully/victimhood mentality were not needed (or desired).

Friday, February 14, 2020

Grieving Part 6_Valentine's Day for One

Valentine's Day for One

Have you ever felt the weight of being alone on Valentines Day?  (Or New Years Eve or any other holiday that suggests we must celebrate with a spouse or 'special someone') I think any one of us, whether we have lost a spouse through death or simply find ourselves without a partner when this special 'day of love' rolls around, can relate to the inevitable feelings of loneliness that arise within us. It seems to be a universal thing. So, if you are experiencing this because you find yourself unattached at the moment, can you imagine how much more intense it must feel for someone who, let's say, has recently lost their husband, wife or lover through something as 'final' as death?

Broken Hearts and Dead Flowers

Most of us who are grieving the death of that someone we considered to be 'the love of our lives' will certainly feel that loss much more acutely when Valentine's Day dawns.  We most likely have spent a certain amount of time 'dreading' the arrival of the magical day of Love as soon as we realized the calendar had changed to February.  We could see it clearly looming there before us in the not too distant future.  We convinced ourselves that it will be a horrible day for us...that we will most assuredly be sad, lonely and broken-hearted.  That we will spend the day in agony over missing the one we loved so dearly in life who is no longer here to make us feel special.  They won't be bringing us flowers & chocolate...or taking us to a lovely dinner for two or simply doing those silly little gestures of love we found so endearing when they were alive and here with us.  

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Reality...A Matter of Perception

"These 7 little words actually hold all the answers to the mystery of life itself within them."

I want to talk about perception.  I think it's an underrated commodity.  As in, folks don't give it the value it deserves.  I mean really, think about this popular quote:
                                  "What we PERCEIVE is what we BELIEVE."
These 7 little words actually hold all the answers to the mystery of life itself within them.  How you say?  Well, because they are letting us in on the secret that our PERCEPTION of what is happening around us actually creates our reality!  Let's break it down...

What is Reality?

Some might think this a silly question with an obvious answer.  They might say something like, "Well that's obvious.  Reality is what we can see, hear, feel and touch.  It is the world around us and all that we experience within it."  Well I beg to differ with that opinion.  I believe 'reality' is a bit more complex than that, and yet in principal is really simple.  I believe that reality is based on how one PERCEIVES the various stimuli they are exposed to. 

Have you ever watched someone else face something especially challenging in their life with a steadfast determination that things will work out just fine and wondered to yourself, "how do they DO that?  Why aren't they falling apart?  I don't think I could handle that.....I'd surely crumble!"  

Or perhaps you are the person who watches someone in hysterics over a traumatic event and says silently to yourself, "Oh darlin, if you would only relax and surrender to what is happening things would be a lot less stressful for you as you go through this.  After all, things always have a way of working themselves out." 

What do you suppose makes these types of people so different from one another? I used to ponder this question quite often...until I figured out the answer.  PERCEPTION.  Perception is simply how we view what is happening around us.  And contrary to popular belief, we do actually have a CHOICE in all of this.  We, in each and every moment of our lives, can choose what to believe and what not to believe. There is great power in this realization. Let's go a bit deeper...

Friday, September 6, 2019

Grief and Our Pets

Grief and Our Pets

by Vicky Edgerly

     I had to say goodbye to my dog recently.  His name was Jangles and he was the youngest of 3 Labs that my late-husband and I raised together.  My 'Baby Boy'.  I cradled his sweet face in my lap and whispered words of love and gratitude into his ears as the drugs sent him off to sleep.  You would think that after burying both of my children and my husband, losing a pet would be inconsequential to me...but it isn't.  It isn't at all.

     I have a vivid memory of a woman grieving her deceased dog that used to spark a lot of anger in me. You see, my own son had taken his life at the tender age of 18 just a few weeks before, when a women I worked with announced the death of her beloved dog of some 15 years over the weekend.  This was during a time in my own journey where the grief over my son's suicide was still very much in the driver's seat.  I prided myself on how far I had come because I could go to the office and hold it together for the required eight hour day (although the floodgates would burst open as soon as I pushed through the exit doors at days end and hot, wet tears would be pouring down my face and bouncing off my shoes by the time I reached my car).

     The bereaved Dog Mommy was having a rough time with her own loss.  Her emotional state would periodically require her to get up and abandon her desk to go sit in the lunch room until she could get her tears under control.  This left me to handle her job of answering incoming calls, which seemed like an extreme hardship for me at the time as my still traumatized brain struggled to function properly in the workplace.

     My anger toward this woman, and others like her was very real and demanded my attention.  How dare these people compare the grief they feel over a deceased pet to that of a mother who has buried a child or a young widow who has had to say goodbye to the man she thought she'd spend her life with?  Really?

"That grieving dog Mom, as it turned out, had lived a life full of abuse, neglect and abandonment." 

Sunday, March 31, 2019

Facing the Waters of My Youth




Facing the waters of my youth…

     I am, in fact, sitting at a table which is in front of a window facing the waters of my youth.  I am 56 years old in this moment frozen in time but I am also timeless….
Walker Pond is laid out before me…the Walker Pond of my own youth, where I played as a child during frequent visits here to my Mother’s family home.  The Walker Pond that I brought my own family to when my children were small…and the same Walker Pond that my grand children still enjoy on the less than frequent occasions that I bring them here.

     Today, I embody all of those eras and beyond….today I simply AM
As I gaze out the window, memories start to dance behind my eyes.  I can see myself as a young child fresh from the bath and in my pajamas for the night.  It’s a summer evening so there is still plenty of daylight outside.  I am savoring the pure joy of being allowed to run outside in the waning light.  That feeling that this was somehow ‘special’.  Squeaky clean and smelling of Ivory soap…hair still damp and combed neatly.  Running barefoot on the cool grass in these last few minutes of the day… sleep not far off.

     I am slightly older now, maybe 7 or 8.  My grandfather, once again, offers me a choice.  The crisp dollar bill he is holding out  in front of me or all the change he has stored in the pocket of his green Dickey work trousers.  As always, I choose the dollar bill which to my child’s mind is worth way more than coins, only to discover that the change in his pocket added up to several dollars… I fell for it again!

     I’m 18 now watching my cousin, Ernie ride his beloved dirt bike up and down the road that leads from the house to the pond. My mind lingers over Ernie for a bit, remembering.  Remembering what it was like to have this boy as our cousin and childhood playmate.  Ernie was born with a debilitating heart condition.  As children, we always knew that his life would be a short one.  Being so close to death entitled him to special consideration….we were not to ‘excite’ Ernie lest it cause him to have a heart attack.  As you can imagine, Ernie could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted since the old-fashioned types of punishments the rest of us received for naughty behaviors would not be administered to Ernie for fear of causing his failing to heart give out.

     Ernie died at 17…not long after the visit I described above.  I was pregnant with my first child at the time and living in New Hampshire which would require a 4 hour car ride should I attend the funeral services.  My family members insisted that I did not make the trip.  I was close to my delivery date and they were afraid I’d encounter problems with the stress of the travel and the solemn occasion.  Interesting how my view has changed over the last 40 years.  Back then, I went along with what all the ‘adults’ were saying.  Sitting where I am now, with the perspective I have gained over the years, I would not have given a second thought to attending and letting the chips fall where they may.