When I was a little girl growing up in New Jersey I remember a cluster of summer mornings spent walking to the pool. On the backs of cicadas. I tried to sidestep them. It was like trying to avoid air. Then, I was disgusted by the crunch under foot as I squeezed my face small, focusing on the cold, blue water and mustard-covered pretzels that awaited me. Today, I would spend those same hours of play watching them, hearing them, and letting their song take me back 17 years, much like an old song permanently attached to a distant memory.
Razzle (she of Mt. Whitney fame) planned an 18 mile hike through the Delaware Water Gap as part of our 2 day reunion during this time the dudes and I are spending in the East, complete with the opportunity to swim in Sunfish Pond. Distance hiking has been hard to pull off lately; I was thrilled to have the chance to put some miles on my legs. With a fitful sleep behind me, we departed near sunrise to head north and west. (Oh, gee, look, a nod to the Kim and Kanye baby.)
As with childbirth, when one moves to the west coast the memory of emerging into a hot and humid morning – like falling into pudding left on the counter overnight – fades with time. I was going to sweat on this hike, something that doesn’t always happen in Marin. The ascent proved it true as gnats gathered about my head. Razzle delighted in her petite stature, making her less attractive to the vermin.
My never-ending vessel of compassionate love is tapped when it comes to these black balls that head straight for my eyes, mouth and nostrils. I spent the first two miles batting them away and getting to know the two friends who joined us to make a quartet of women elated by the journey ahead.
We powered up the steep start to our hike, alongside a full stream that cascaded down over gray rocks streaked with soft, green algae, it’s destination the Delaware River. Sunlight broke through trees covered with fully grown leaves. The trails were quiet. Then, as we merged into the Appalachian Trail and came out onto the crest, the quiet was overtaken by the lust to mate.
Cicada style.
The 17 Year Cicadas tunneled out of the ground, shed their skins and acted like they were on a singles cruise, flitting from one potential mate to the other. The males chatted up the ladies, looked for a hair flip, or in this case a wing twitch, and if the timing was right they got it on.
We pushed past cairns erected like the Jersey version of Stonehenge, through wild blueberry bushes and ducked to avoid being picked up like it was last call. Then I saw him. He flew right at my chest.
Landing between my breasts, we gazed upon each other, inches apart. My eyes bloodshot with sweat and the body parts of gnats, his bulging and red, because that’s how he was born. And then he sang. I felt the vibration on me and in me. It made me giggle. But then I came to my senses.
I am not the mate you seek, I said. Not on the market, and not your kind of girl. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with you. You’re small and winged. And crunchy. I don’t know the first thing about how you mate. Goodness, I don’t even know where your penis is! Besides, I’d crush you.
Off the red-eyed little beast flew to find someone less complicated. And smaller.
As the miles ticked off, our quartet shuffled, Razzle leading, me bringing up the rear. Sometimes walking side-by-side when the trail widened. Spreading out as we boulder-hopped, then gathering again to pause for pictures. Revealing thoughts and stories were shared, even though I had not met our two trail mates before. The words spoken were words that needed to be heard about healing hearts and ascending spirits. We left the small talk, what little there was, in the car and let the rhythm of our feet and the wings of cicadas tease forth personal tales of heartache and the blossoming that comes with acknowledging our own magic.
Without the distractions of everyday life, the trail helps me to listen on many levels. To the words spoken, the message as intended by the one speaking, and the message intended by the Universe. My ears were being filled with beautiful sounds, made prettier by the vibrations of the Earth and those that buzzed above it.
Most potent was a conversation about discovering and embracing one’s spiritual awakening. It’s something that I’ve been struggling with lately. I see the magic, I follow the cadence of Nature, I let it guide me, I believe it. I know the messages come for very specific reasons, I hear my intuition as if it is mouth-first into a megaphone planted over my entire head. I have ah-ha moments that I honor and never, ever question. The details of the trials and tribulations of daily life are to be interpreted not rehashed. I see what others feel, I feel what others see.
Yet I feel uncomfortable saying, This is who I am. I am an empath.
It took me 20 boulders to get that one out of my mouth as one of Razzle’s friends, a Reiki practitioner, spoke of her awakening. It’s the first time I spoke it out loud. Always the same inner dialogue runs rampant as I have tried in the past to push those simple words from my mouth.
Who are you to think you have these abilities? It’s made up. Simple intuition and nothing more. (Tears are streaming as I type these words.) You’re not special enough to be gifted. You just think you are.
A scene from November 2011 crashed inside my head. The Genius and me sitting at a table outside of a tapas restaurant in the French Quarter of San Francisco, a long and narrow courtyard strung with lights, the sounds of cutlery and plates and voices bouncing off the wall of a building blocking out the sounds of a city. Little candles flickered. Plates of snails and mushrooms and cockles on the round table. We sat side-by-side. Couples in love in stark contrast to our emotional state sat before us.
This particular evening, right in the midst of the Cleo-bashing Era (It’s all your fault.), left its mark upon my psyche – a wound at first, but now a vortex. Before realizing the duration and extent of his adultery, my goal was to do the best I could to understand where we stumbled so that we could right each other for the sake of our family and because I believed we were meant to spend this entire journey together. My head and heart kept gravitating towards the Hawk’s view – Why did we create this? I recall saying something like, This is in the 3D, meaning the adultery. We have a special connection that encompasses so much more than just two married people plowing through life.
I wanted to vibrate right out of my chair, and he wanted to keep fork and knife in each hand, planted hard to the table.
You are such an elitist.
Or something to that effect emerged from his mouth. I couldn’t understand what he meant. And now I do. That was his perception. And, as we all know, perception IS reality. Not a snapshot, not a fleeting thought, not a misguided assessment of the present moment, but reality. He is entitled to his opinion. But more than that, I understand his opinion. I am not an elitist, but I can see how he would feel as if that were true. Being an empath is a gift in the very same way being able to design buildings is a gift. Or speak a foreign language. Or cook like Thomas Keller. Being an empath does not make me an elitist. (That said, I’m not sure what it makes me.)
Still on the crest of a mountain ridge, the sun hot on my sweat-soaked head, I heard the buzz of wings, and if I followed the sound I would see a cicada lift itself out of a blueberry bush on transparent, vein-filled wings and fly through the air like Nature’s version of a B2 Bomber.
The woman with the gentle eyes and glossy black hair and Reiki hands began to talk about the vibrational changes in and on the planet. How a shift, or split, has occurred. One aspect of the earth is dense, humming along on a low frequency and the other is vibrating on a higher frequency.
I know this. Inside. I’ve known it since moving west. Actually, I’ve believed it since moving west. I’ve known it for years.
I promise not to get all space-agey on you. (Is this me trying to make excuses again? Wanting you not to think I’m crazazy?)
As I witnessed in my head that dinner from months ago while she spoke of vibrators, I mean vibrations, The Genius’ criticisms of me weren’t barbs he threw but words of love from myself to me:
Don’t cry. In time, celebrate. Don’t mourn. Accept that your marriage is not a failure but a period in time with a soul who agreed to join with you, and now that time has come to its natural end. You no longer vibrate with the same frequency.
Neither is better or more special or cooler or weirder than the other. It’s like choosing to major in electrical engineering or art history. Just different. And with different types of lessons to be learned. Neither better or more special or cooler or harder or more or less enlightening than the other.
The Genius and I chose different majors. You will not and cannot remain joined. It’s physically, emotionally and psychically impossible.
(I wish we had realized this before he betrayed me, but that’s a normal, human desire.)
On the return leg of our hike we came to Sunfish Pond, a lake really. A funnel of feelings, sensations and thoughts whirled inside me. I stripped down and put on my bathing suit. Alone, I slid over the rocks that met the shore and pulled myself through the cold water until I floated in the middle of the lake. A half dozen people frolicked on the edge to my right. The lake itself was ringed with clumps of mountain laurel covered in pale pink flowers that up close looked like the sun umbrellas of dainty ladies in Osaka.
After I let go of the need to imagine a massive snapping turtle grabbing me by the ribcage and dragging me to his lair deep in the cloudy green water, I gave thanks. Gratitude does wonders for irrational thoughts. The sensation of the beginning of a second half, not just the second half of the year but of my life, filled me. I felt truly comfortable in my skin. Not because I could strip naked on the shore and put on my suit without worrying who would approach on the trail. Because, like the cicada, I shed the cage that represented my nymph stage (Those with a racy sense of humor have most certainly made a wisecrack about nymphomaniacs. Don’t let me down.) and began the process of accepting, welcoming a rebirth.
That night, under a super moon that rose on the heels of double rainbows that lingered for an hour or more, I splashed about in Razzle’s pool with her beautiful, spirited children. Their enthusiasm for Marco Polo energized me. It was as if I hiked a mile.
As if I hiked my very first mile.
Yesterday, in preparing to write this post, I looked up the totem meaning for cicada, discovering that the 17 Year Cicada is of the genus Magicicada.
Of course.
Magic.
I read snippets of the meaning to my Mom who sat across from me at her kitchen table, probably playing solitaire on her iPad. (It matters not the age – iPads are for gamers.)
Encourages one to look beneath the surface to uncover hidden truths, delve into the underworld without fear, call on the cicada to understand the truth about reality and illusion, signifies major changes – death, rebirth. Signifies the shedding of what no longer serves the soul’s evolution as part of the rebirthing cycle. The end. And the beginning.
I froze. Then counted on my hands. I grabbed a pen and made sure by writing down each year and then counting them again. Once more to be sure. (My hands are shaking as I type.) 1997, 98, 99, 2000, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 2007, 08, 09, 10, 2011, 12, 13…
17 years.
17 years ago I married The Genius.
Love yourself,
Cleo
WOW!!!! Great post, as usual. I wonder if I will have a similar epiphany in regard to my 30-year union. (I chuckled, after my daughter moved back to San Francisco–her place of birth–from the east coast at the age of 26 plus one month–when I realized that I was that exact age when I moved there from the east coast in 1975. Just a coincidence, I’m sure, but…)
N,
Thank you. Yes you will. And don’t be so sure.
Paying attention to the cycles and pondering their meanings will lead you to epiphanies. Stay close and so very magical.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Vibrations, frequency…this is my kind of talk!! Remember a while back I spoke of resonance, well it’s clear you are finally piercing the veil and noting how it has affected you. The man you are going to attract to you in this wonderful state you now posess…wow!!
Empathic, or high sensitives like yourself are not crazy my dear. Highly intuitive, very self aware and unfortunately for many like TG this is often perceived as haughty arrogance i.e elitist
Reading your post from big dudes birthday and noting the high degree of insensitivity and thoughtlessness toward you, it is not surprising to me that he would judge you in this manner. Let’s be honest his elitist statement, it was a judgement, not an observation.
By virtue of who and how you are as a person, he felt threatened and small. Whether this was conscious or not I cannot say, what is obvious though is that self entitled people in the midst of lying and deceiving…will pull others down to make themselves feel better about their actions. Calling you elitist allowed him to justify and rationalise his behaviour. It really had very little to do with you.
I love that your Soul is throwing so many synchronisities your way!! It means you are moving away from intellectualising what you are experiencing and are really starting to feel it at your core. You are finally listening to you, the deeper subconscious you.
One final observation…we tend to expect (yes expect…more subconscious, but still) others to treat us the way would treat them. It has taken me a very very long time to understand that this just doesn’t happen. Simply because others are not us. I know this sounds obvious and rather simplistic but please hear me out. You expect TG and HDC to treat you with decorum, respect etc…they cannot. I say this not to be mean or vindictive toward them. Simply that their behaviour to date, the manner in which they established their relationship means they have an awareness that doesn’t match yours. They behaved with a sense of entitlement and selfishness that society judges (hate that word but it’s the truth) to be of weak moral character. People who act in this way, with choices that scream of self gratification and poor impulse control are not in a position to treat you with grace, understanding, empathy or respect. It is beyond their reach.
We are not better than them, just very different in our moral approach to life. We don’t vibrate at the same frequency
) Expect that going forward and I assure you, managing the disappointing, tactless behaviour will be easier.
I love this post C, you have found your centre again and it’s heart warming to see.
Solitaire on the iPad rocks !!! As does your mom
MLP
Xx
M,
As I hiked the hills of New Jersey, moving from sweat-ish to a walking ball of sweat, I knew that I would return to find your words. I felt your sigh…she sees now, as the clouds rolled in, bringing the afternoon storms that come daily. Thank you for sharing your words with me, with us. You continue to lead without insisting I follow, yet there I am, of free will. I am, as you know, so very grateful.
This: “We are not better than them, just very different in our moral approach to life.” I am moved to remove the word moral. My Mom would put that word right back and then some (I can’t repeat here)! As I hiked, leaving puddles in my wake (I cannot get over the humidity here!), the realization that TG and HDC’s adultery is really just a plot line washed over me. A way to move us apart as I was not paying close attention. Now I see how forgiveness was the genuine move to make. I thanked him for doing the dirty work.
I am fully ready to embrace this way of being without getting in its way. I needed to soften, lighten and become more gentle for that to happen with ease. I have found my center and it’s an open heart.
Do you think it’s cheesy if I start spelling the way you do? It’s so much cooler.
Centre.
You are treasured, M. A divine example of the magic of HGM. You know when we meet the Earth will shudder, in the very best way. Thank you for being here.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Likewise my friend, I am and always will be grateful for the presence of HGM and your beautiful writing.
Not cheesy at all but you will have to change your spell check default
…would you like the accent as well?? It works wonders in the US 
MLP
xx
M,
You so know I want the accent. I have adopted an obsession with saying my T’s, so I sound funny. But in Bolinas that’s okay.
Love yourself,
Cleo
The centre vs center is a canadian/french spelling thing vs an american spelling thing. Anyway aside from that, your feelings and your experiences have been a profound and deep journey for me as I read about your life and I ponder mine and the decisions I have made. You are someone I respect and love and you have made me think seriously about where I want to be in my life and how I want to live it. I have found a deeper sense of spirituality in the last few years and reading your blog has helped me. bless you my dear Cleo.
A,
Thank you for your kind words. They have moved me to tears. Before logging in to find your comment I finished watching a documentary on summiting Mt. Everest. Those who did, and returned alive, could never have done so without the support of those around them. From the gifted and dedicated sherpas to the expedition leader to those who sit in some far away place providing the detailed weather reports that identify the most suitable time to summit. We are a team, A. I am so grateful to have you here.
As I have written in this post, words that come to me have many layers of meaning. Yours will help me make a very important decision about how to proceed in my divorce. Your love means that regardless of the outcome of that 3D (so very freaking 3D) experience, I am blessed, whole, filled with joy. Thank you.
It’s a British thing too, no? The spelling. We all spell love the same – and I love you right back, m’lady. Seeking magic by your side.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Yes, it is a very British and Australian way of spelling.
I love your posts Cleo and I wish I could find myself as centred as you in the midst of all the chaos that surrounds betrayal and divorce.
I have been there at times, in the 3 and a half years since the betrayal, but for some reason I find myself regularly in a state of confusion. I hike in the forests near my home. I live on the coast like you and find some solace in nature and all that is natural, but for some unknown reason that final piece of the peace puzzle eludes me.
Your writing encourages me and gives me hope that I will indeed find inner peace and acceptance some time in the future. Perhaps with the pace of today’s life, I like so many others, expect things too soon.
Love your work
L xx
L,
You’re so close, L. That some time in the future is actually right here, right now. I know that feeling of confusion. I felt it, until I committed to moving to California. Standing at the fridge, feeling completely untethered, directionless and staring into the eyes of another who had no connection to me. I had abandoned Nature. You are with her.
Sit in your confusion as if it were a room full of cotton. Slowly tease it apart and weave it into your present, and as needed, tailor it as you create magic and move forward on your journey. I wish I was a drive away to assist. Stay close, L. I am excited to hear about what you discover.
Love yourself,
Cleo
I have logged in to reply and then sat here wondering what to say that would communicate how much I love this site. Not only the blog but the people who comment (Love MLP). I am going thru a similar transition at 50, after a 17 year marriage and HGM with a 20-something. This site is comforting and touches on what I truly know (the vibrations, his poor impulse control, his unhappiness and his justifications for leaving a family) as I still struggle with healing and letting go.
L,
Thank you for being here and for taking the time to comment, and with such kind words! MLP deserves an honor. She’s honored by me, for sure. The words shared here by those who find HGM have transformed me. As if I’m a piano out of tune and their words the instrument to get my tone back. I’m moved by the connection created here. It’s magic. So grateful you are part of it. Stay close and let go.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Cleo, I can really tell you got your groove back. I sense you’ve been kind of….not floundering exactly, but you weren’t as centered as you are now. This was one of my favorite posts you’ve ever written. I totally resonate with just about everything you said. Looking forward to the next post, as always!
C,
It feels so good to hear that, C. Thank you for taking the time to comment and for the positive reinforcement. I’m really grateful for the support. I’ll be posting tomorrow night and am very much looking forward to it. Love to you from the end of land.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Wow….lmao at part about cicada landing….loved MLP’s post….love where u are…the journey continues…luv..JJ
J,
It’s times like those that I wish a tiny camera floated above me. A 3D camera! I haven’t looked that deeply into another’s eyes in a long time. Such a lovely shade of red…
Thank you for being here, and for so much more.
Love yourself,
Cleo
U are an incredibly talented writer …. or is it…writour?
J,
I wish had a font that mimicked a quill and ink. That would make it complete. If it didn’t seem so poser I’d go our all the time. I must dig out my fountain pens. It’s time.
Thank you for your kind words. It feels so good to hear that.
Love yourself,
Cleo
Great post.
Please expand on what an empath is? I’ve never heard the term.
J,
Thank you. It was a liberating to write it out.
I hadn’t heard the term till it started popping up over the last six months, along with vibration, energy, conduit. In short, it means highly sensitive to others emotions and emotional state, where they’ve been and where they are going. It feels like a rabbit hole. When someone opens to me I feel them and then zip and zoom down a twisting tunnel seeing how the emotions are tied to their soul and its journey. Maybe. I’m still trying to sort it all out and give this sense the opportunity to develop by not holding back, but that’s what is feels like. I feel what their feeling while still being me, being objective.
There’s a much better explanation here:http://healing.about.com/cs/empathic/a/uc_empathtraits.htm
Some deep exploration is going on in Bolinas over the next several days. Grounding myself now to be free to feel it all. Stay close…
Love yourself,
Cleo