Enfolded in the arms of your beloved you are never alone.
Susan caresses Martijn on Tuesday, July 7, 2008.
Supported by Sebastian.
We both requested that Sebastian return (please see blog entry June 1st) to share his quiet magic and majesty. He dreamt this ritual for us while sleeping in the next bedroom the previous evening, and Martijn embraced and wholeheartedly invited enacting the concept.
"It is better to light just one little candle than to stumble in the dark."
Transforming the porcelain washbasin to a vessel of light and reflection.
Martijn and I have lived a life of modest creativity. We continue to find strength in the creative radiance of those dear individuals who inhabit our circle of life and love. Here is a poem written for us by our dear friend, Sally Eves, who lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with her furry creatures:
Friends
Can you hear us croon to you
in the stillness of the night?
We sing a song in praise of you
to bring you love and light.
Our voices join in melody
with creatures of the night.
The swamp frogs croak
a rhythmic bass
a cacophony our sound;
the owl hoot hoots
it unblinking eyes surveying
sky to ground;
the bat's shrill screech is softened by
the swooshing of its wings,
the cadence of the crickets tolls
the blessing of all things;
the cat's stealthy silence adds
a pause to all the sounds,
and brings a welcome stillness to the
mystery around;
the fireflies dance in points of light
to the movement of the sound,
and beckon the stars and sultry moon
nearer to the ground.
Do you hear us croon to you
a majestic band of the night?
But nothing to compare to you -
your royalty and light.
- Sally L. Eves
June 30, 2008
Another friend, Maureen Youngstrom, who lived next door to us in Cottagewood, a village in Deephaven, Minnesota where Martijn enjoyed the first five years of our relationship, wrote this to us today, echoing the line in Sally's poem referring to 'swamp frogs':
Like most of your friends and family I have been checking your blog on a regular basis to see how things are progressing for the two of you both physically and emotionally. I am so impressed and inspired by the wonderful insight and grace that you both bring to this excruciatingly difficult process. At the same time I am profoundly sad at the reality of what is happening.
I need to tell you both at the thoughts I had about you on my long and now regular walks. (I am going to Africa to climb Mt Kilimanjaro in two weeks so I'm training for that. But more about that another time). To come right to point I think of you and Martijn almost constantly when I am out walking. In the beginning I thought it was just because my walks were starting out going by your old house and because I think a big part of Martijn's identity for me is that of the 'thoughtful Cottagewood walker'. Now I've come to realize there's more to it than that. I almost always end my walk with a stop at Hidden Beach where I am usually alone. It is here that I feel a kinship with the part of both your spirits that are still here. Also, I have been receiving another sign of your spirits. I have to preface this part of the story by relaying the fact that, until recently, I had seen maybe three or four frogs in the ten years I've lived here. This being said I have seen a frog on an almost daily basis for the last couple of weeks. Usually this sighting takes place on the last leg of my walk between hidden beach and home. Yesterday, it was a pair who instead of bolting into the bushes, hoped ahead of me for several yards before they took their own path. In a way I can't really articulate this gave me an incredibly peaceful and content feeling. I only hope in the extreme intensity of your lives right now that you find moments, however fleeting, of profound peace. This is my prayer for you both each day.
My thoughts and prayers are with you through your journey
Love - Maureen
Just so you know Martijn cannot use the computer anymore but I do print emails and share all of your comments with him for which is so grateful and filled with love. We are so supported and only wish that we could do the same back for each and every one of you. But, in fact, we do, each night when we say our prayers and hold you in our collective heart.
