"Good grief" working with the energy of a Trickster Moon Cycle; Maui Hawaiian 'Superman'

I am writing about the process of grief, and the loss of my brother, to make my way through the many feelings and confusion. Astrology gives me a rope to hold to as I flail against the bowl as grief, sadness, anger, guilt, alternately boil up. But sometimes all emotions simmer me like soup slow and long. This post on the Gemini, Trickster Moon, helped to see how the collective energy in general is tricky add to that my personal grief work and there it is "Oh, Good Grief!" Schultz's Charlie Brown says it all with his expression of resignation ... yes, resignation not acceptance. For that character was never what I'd call P.C. Charlie Brown is every man and every woman whose known life includes a lot of the G word.

Dietrich Varez's woodcut 'Maui Snares the Sun'

My good friend, and medicine woman had lunch the other day. It was the first time I had gotten out and needed the comfort and company of a compassionate mirror. We talked of many things, and approached the subject of grief from several angles, but in particular it is the mystical perspective that we can share that does me such good. Mystical and indigenous perspectives look at the Trickster as the one who will point out the attachments we have: to ideas, beliefs, ways of shoulds. At one point my friend related a story that exemplified Tricksters unpredictable antics. Much chaos could come from the Trickster. In talking about the role of Coyote-Trickster-and my brother who is among the clan, I thought of Maui in my own Hawaiian mythology. The Hawaiian Superman who snared the sun so his mother, Hina (the moon) could dry her kapa (bark cloth). I considered the untapped energy that Tricksters can have when they shed their skins during the movement from physical to spirit form. We talked about how often I feel my brother's presence in pointing me in unlikely positions. I remember how he turned me upside down one day when I had chicken bones stuck in my throat. He took action. He probably saved me life.

The grief work I experience now is messy, often, more messy than is elegant. But I am not trying to describe grief as elegant. Instead, I find some grounding in experiencing the grace and grateful responsiveness to grief. I take a lesson from this quote from St. Mary Euphrasia Pelletier, "Let us learn to skillfully draw good out of what would otherwise cause us harm." I am slogging through the experience of Good Grief, by writing grateful posts at The Safety Pin Cafe. It seems a perfect way to more firmly establish just what that cafe is all about. You might like to see what I mean by going there. In the right hands, in the right place, a safety pin is common magic at its best.