A couple of weeks ago, I had a shamanic
healer tell me to keep a look out for a girl, a piece of paper, and
an owl. Weird, I know. And he, the shaman, is a trustworthy sort and
really knows his stuff. So, I have been holding that loosely in the
back corner of my mind ever since.
This past Friday, when I woke up, I
noticed that the world seemed quieter for some reason. Not making
much of the observation, I went on with my day, went to the office to
treat a few folks then had plans to go play chess with my friend,
Penny.
About midday, I saw a text from my dear
friend, Marty. Our beloved Vienna Hagan (formerly Helen Sacher) had
died quietly in her sleep early that morning.
My heart broke open. Wide. Painful
yes... and painful like bright light can be painful... not painful
like a tearing away. The sensation was so different from anything I
had felt before with grief, even knowing each time is different. I
was awed. It was expansive not contractive. Weird. And I just let it
be as I cried great gulping sobs for the loss of my friend and
really, for the world's loss.
You see, Vienna was one of the great
lights in the world. Her spirit – or shen as we say in Chinese
Medicine – was so clear, it radiated happiness and love to the
whole world. Not in a cheesy, intentional way – just by being who
she was. She was a big, red-headed girl in her 40's who loved life
and everyone in it. She embraced adventure and was very, very brave.
Especially in the face of the cancer that finally took her life. So much so that she truly lived for over two years after being diagnosed, rather than the handful of months they gave her to survive.
As I sat looking for words to describe
the expansive feeling in my chest, I looked up and there pinned above
my desk amidst a bunch of other stuff was a piece of paper with an
owl on it that said:
Miracles start to happen when you
give as much energy to your dreams as you do to your fears.
And I began to
laugh. Loudly. In equal volume to my sobs from a moment before.
Vienna had such a great sense of humor! And that quote was a real
smack in the head. It sounded just like her.
It became clear to
me that her light had just grown so bright that a body couldn’t
contain it any longer. And when she died, I had been lucky enough to
get a refracted piece of that light that opened my heart wide. What
joy!
I spent the rest of
the day smiling. And feeling as though I had been given my marching
orders. Those of us who were lucky enough to be touched by the
beautiful spirit that was Vienna Hagen have a mandate. Or at least, I
do. It is now my responsibility to continue to carry that joy and
wonder out into the world. That is the best memorial a girl could ask
for.
It has been several
days now, and the feeling persists. I am no longer asking, “If not
now, when?” because now is it – in a very visceral way, I
am forever changed.
I wish you all much
light and love and laughter. And look out for miracles...
peace,
Janice
