What is a siren?

For those of you that do not read Homer or Virgil, sirens are characters in the Odyssey. They sang while ships passed, but they sang so well, no one could resist their songs' lure.

My all-girl band "Sirens' Song" has been writing and performing together for 14 years. We are currently recording our 3rd cd, 'Safe Harbour.'

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Butterfly wings

I know the title of the post is a bit girlie...bear with me. It will make sense in a minute.

It has been a while since I have written anything. The muse has been pretty silent, and maybe my creativity just sort of dies when I am under stress. But lately I have been more inspired. That is a good thing. usually January is very prolific, maybe it will be March this year.

So the week has been a bit strange. I have been ill. The weather is beautiful outside, so it has been a bit of a bummer to be sick. I found out some really bad news from a good friend, news I really could do nothing about, so I just cried. Then I found out news that I could do something about, and instead of crying I mobilized.

I am not good at many things. Yes, creatively I am pretty good, otherwise, not so much.

But I can mobilize people to action. I feel passionate about things, so I act. Sometimes I act impulsively, but sometimes the actions are the right thing to do. Somewhere in the back of my mind I am thinking "get it done! get it done!" And Voila! It gets done. (ok so I work like a dog to get it done, it just seems like magic.)

So the week started with my friends' baby dying. She has lost several babies, some have been born and died, some miscarriages. One baby they adopted and she had to return due to the birth mom changing her mind. They have fostered kids, they have prayed for their own. Yesterday I started crying again, the invitation to her baby shower came. It was mailed before the baby was born and died. I was sad.

Then I got a message from another friend, she was in dire straits. Her husband had left her, bills were due, children were hungry (she has an autistic son, her kids are kindergarten and preschool age) and she was desperate.

I knew no matter what I could not bring that baby back to life, nor could I give my first friend the child of her heart. Helpless..hapless...all I could do was cry. But my second friend, well, that was something I could help. Crying wouldn't fix it, but I could do something. Something radical. Something compassionate. Something driven by my helplessness and passion. And love.

So I raised money yesterday for her. Paid her bills, bought her things and raised enough for groceries as well. Passion and compassion took hold. The first friend in her grief and suffering caused me to relieve someone else's suffering.

MAGIC=radical passionate compassionate LOVE.

Not sure what that says- except I wish every time I suffered in life I could channel it to help others. Not sure why this time was the exception. Not sure why I was the vehicle. I am just glad I was.

So Olivia, if you are reading this..YOU are the reason I helped this little family. My compassion for you drove me to action.

The post, like I said- is very girlie..but the reason the song is called butterfly wings, is because Olivia, (the mom of the baby that passed,) loves butterflies. It is representative of her children that she will see again. While on earth they are caterpillars, waiting to break from the cocoons. In the next life, she will see them perfected. When we choose to break from the cocoon on earth, we show love perfected. I think it is time to be done with our 'caterpillar selves' and learn to fly.

South of the border, down by the sea

Under the orange colored sky

there are monarchs rising, up on the wing

Taking their springtime flight

And I saw as the night pushed the sun

Into the ocean, into the foam

but the butterflies were rising free

Making their way back home


Sing out to the ocean

sing out to the sea

there are wings flying and rising free


Sing out to the tide

Sing out to the wind

sing out until day begins again.


Life and all its troubles it seems

are passing away like the light

and we will make our way home again

Like those butterflies in the night

In the depths of the winter, on a cold clear night

I will bend my ear again

and hear the beating of butterflies' wings

Rising out on the wind.