The Ring

For two days now I have been wearing a ring on my left hand.  It is gold and thick with an oval faceted aquamarine, smaller squares of amethyst and topaz and a very small diamond set in a trace of silver.  It is not like any ring I own nor of a style that I would ever choose, and yet I cannot bring myself to take it off. 

I found it in a jewelry box on a dresser in a bedroom of a woman who died two years, four months and ten days ago.  It is not the only possession of hers that I left with.  There were books on the bookshelf in her sitting room that I took with me because she and I shared a love for the mysteries of life and a belief in magick.  And my oldest friend chose for me a broach that she said was supposed to be with me. (It is silver with rainbow crystals and a woman kneeling holding a crystal ball)

There were two prints on the wall on either side of her bedroom door  by an artist (now sadly also deceased)  whose work graces the walls of my home as well.  The woman who lived in the space suffered from the debilitations of MS and eventually withered and died from cancer and yet the energy in her rooms was bright and joyous and full of life.   Her parents have not yet packed things away, the only changes are the absence of things chosen by her many friends to take home as a way of having some of her energy with them.  

After over two years the life and love that was her soul and spirit shines brightly in that place.  There are still small spells of healing and love sitting on the shelf next to her bed.  I wanted to sit there and talk with her but, she is no longer there.  As her father said with a smile both sad and sweet in a voice full of love and admiration, “She is now a part of the mystery.” 

One of the reasons that the ring is so appealing to me is that it seems to have an energy about it that reminds me of the active principle that I have been trying to cultivate in my life.  The beautiful woman who owned it was not a passive person.  She loved actively; she put her energy into the world in an active way.  Not overtly but never passive, never idle, never self-absorbed.  Even while she was terminally ill she would go to visit the elderly “to cheer them up”.  She would go and sit all night in a chair beside a friend in the hospital.  When she could no longer work because of the MS she volunteered at the Botanical Gardens, surrounding herself with life and light and beauty, and actively sharing that with others.

That is what I want my life to be.  I want to be actively engaged in the beauty around me.  I want to love others in a way that shines light and love into their lives.  I want the spaces I inhabit, both my rooms and the places in others lives, to be so full of joy and  light that it will persist long after I cross over, so that others will want to spend time there enjoying the healing and loving magick that I create.

She was a beautiful woman and I know she is still shining.  I give thanks for her example and the inspiration she has given me.