Dear OS,

I’ve been thinking of you and it seemed a good moment to check in.  I don’t go to OS very often these days, but I am friends with Zanelle on Facebook. She posted a photo of some guy and I was curious to see the story. I was greeted on the front page with the loss of James Emmerling.  I’m flummoxed, sad, and reaching for a way to integrate this into my being. 

All of the deaths saddening me in this last week have been deaths of people I don’t even know - David Bowie, Alan Rickman and now James. James is the only one of these who even had an inkling that I existed.

David Bowie’s death brought some kind of reconciliation for me about my rock and roll past. I had friends in love with him. Perfectly masculine men experimenting with eyeliner. And sexuality. The people I knew, knew of him intimately. As I explore his music now, I find myself more in resonance with my past.

Alan Rickman. The dark hero. Who brought to life one of the most incredible stories percolating in our collective consciousness.  

And now James, who would have totally gotten that last sentence. Who was wise; experience and suffering being his teachers. Books, family and friends kept him connected and tethered to this world. 

James died in the Maya week of Ik:  “The Spirit of Life,” Wind, Voice, Truth, Communication. He died on the day of the Road. He veered off the road, his path became untethered to our world. He came to the fork in the road and left us behind.

We can make of it whatever we will. And we all will, somehow or another, put some kind of perspective to our losses. This I believe, maybe…. When someone dies, their energy goes out into the world, their spirit into the “Darkstar,” as David Bowie has titled it.  We have some mighty intensely wonderful, path-finding individuals who rained down their creative energy onto us recently as they departed. Leaving us with their works to ponder and come to terms with. We create our own myths to explain the wonder of their existence. Their spirits, now in the Darkstar, the Greatest Mystery, prepare to be reborn into a world of magic their lives helped to bring about. Their paths, the way they lived in this world will usher us into a better existence. Let it be so.

poetTess

The Road Not Taken

BY ROBERT FROST

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

Views: 268

Comment by Jonathan Wolfman on January 18, 2016 at 2:47pm

Lovely and moving. I think we all, in a way, felt what you felt when you saw the words.

Comment by JMac1949 Today on January 18, 2016 at 2:59pm

Thank you for posting Frost, an appropriate poet for JME  as he began one of his posts with,  Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in.  I suspect that like many of us, James spent most of his adult life trying to find his way back home.

Comment by Carole Dixon on January 18, 2016 at 3:09pm

Jonathan, yes, it seems we are searching for solace with each other through our words. Such a community!

JMAC, James was such an honest searcher and traveler, wasn't he? It seemed appropriate to quote something for him - as he quoted poetry and philosophy so much. And what I didn't say in the above, is how my heart hurts for those who were close to him. 

Comment by clay ball on January 18, 2016 at 3:26pm

So beautiful, so much Spirit of Life was with him.  Thank you, Carole.

Comment by Anna Herrington on January 18, 2016 at 3:55pm

Lovely tribute, Carole - and while you and I believe quite differently on how energy behaves after death of the physical body, I do know we have all been graced by the creative energies of all these people while they were here.

I am only grateful I happened to exist on the planet at the same time as David Bowie and was able to see him play live a couple times.... so many life moments carried out with his music as accompaniment....

fitting for James, too:

"They got a message from the Action Man.

I'm happy, hope you're happy, too.

I've loved. All I needed: love.

Sordid details following."

David Bowie ~ Ashes to Ashes

Comment by Phyllis on January 18, 2016 at 4:03pm

Thank you for the insight into the timing of James leaving us. That is very interesting, the day of the road. It seems apt.

Comment by koshersalaami on January 18, 2016 at 4:58pm

I'm glad all these people are writing about james. 

James understood a lot. 

Another music death happened today: Glen Frey of the Eagles. 

Comment by Carole Dixon on January 18, 2016 at 5:35pm
Yeah. What is it with all these creative visionaries flying the coop? So Glen Frey passes in - drum roll - the week of the Eagle. Yes, he did. On Akbal, the day which represents the great darkness, night, twilight. Shafts of light emerging from clouds. The dark night of the soul and the great dark womb in which seeds are sown.
Comment by Zanelle on January 18, 2016 at 5:56pm

Thanks, Carol, I love that poem and I loved James.  My mind keeps going to the details, the photo of the car, the tumble off the cliff, the tree.  Oh, James...

Comment by tr ig on January 18, 2016 at 5:56pm

Lovely . .. . thank you poetTess

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