I've been thinking of you all weekend, Shannon. The tiny little crocuses are blooming and little pink and white and green buds are bulging on the tips of our plant kin. It's a dry transition to spring, here, thus far.

I've been thinking of your family too, blood and otherwise, and I find myself pausing... recognizing all others who might be pausing as well, remembering you in their own way... and then, too, I find myself recognizing the multitude many who also remember a life lived.

It turns out that we humans are a big family with a vast shared memory. I take courage in the wisdom of the little crocuses... life shared is the only life. Without reservation, without condition. There is no greater blessing than the ancestry of nature.

I cannot help but think that your transition at this transition is an invitation...

Leah

I met Shannon briefly at one of the Hillcrest house open houses and was very impressed with the atmosphere and the women there.

I'm here now because I know of someone who might benefit from a place like that and found it had been shut down and Shannon is now existing in memories and her past actions.

I want to encourage who ever can to share what they can of those (publishing the texts she was working on?)

I can't call her my teacher exactly except as a decent example and a pointer that probably i can do a lot more but I'm reminded of Frank Cook who also left us (also in North Carolina) with our memories of him and thankfully we have a website to go to and remind ourselves of his message.

Plantsandhealers.org

I hope similar happens for Shannon's example.

I found my memory of first learning about Shannon and Shakti rising in 2005:

https://cfu.freehostia.com/Me…

And there i link to a page that still works about Shannon's life and work: 

https://www.flowersociety.org…

Tucked away in an old journal as the treasure that it is, I found this poem of Shannon's. Handwritten in 1998:

I remember who I was before I was

The face behind all of these faces

Spirit soaring through no-space, no time

Nothing and everything

I held God’s hand like a child

And stormed his castles like a warrior

I knew him in ecstatic lovers’ union

And loved myself in him,

Himself in me

The call came then, hurtling through space

Now, my child, it is time

And in the blink of an eye

I was born here

And I began to forget

The remembering is the healing

For to be whole is to know

To be at one-ment

The marriage of my goddess soul with God (again)

To heal the wound of separation

In those silent stilling moments

I see who I am

Healing, healer, whole

In the palm of the inverse

I am I am

July 6, 1998

“What did I learn from Shannon? If it had a lasting impact, what was it?”

Shannon and I were connected by a third party and Shannon invited me into conversation about the SAGE Incubator. 

As the result of working with Shannon, I developed what is now my body of work, the concept of mental health planning, analogous to business planning, for entrepreneurs and business owners. It’s expressed in workshops, talks, presentations as well as consulting and teaching on the topic. It’s also the foundation of the book I’m writing. 

Shannon really was the birth mama for my intellectual property and the direction of my work. I literally would not be where I am today if not for Shannon. 

Happy Birthday, Shannon.  I love you and celebrate you.  Thank you for your continual inspiration.  

I will be creating a morning altar in the sand, with art as impermanence, as a loving altar, with you in my heart this week.  With Love, Jalene

Blessed Birth Day Shannon.

Candle is lit.

Prayer in my heart.

Words of Rumi upon my lips, "Wherever you stand, be the soul of that place."

Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.

Until we meet again, Shannon...

Hi Shannon, 

It is the Holy Days here, the pristine divine light low in the winter sky, showering us all with golden, shimmering blessings. It is a beautiful season....And your birthday nears. It will be the first turn of the wheel since you transitioned and moved, onward. Have you chosen to be reborn? Will we feel you walk upon the earth once again? Many will be thinking of you now and during the honoring of your Birth day as Shannon. Many do think of you, hold you, walk with you, talk with you...

I feel you still, at times, hear your laugh. The other morning I got a bit heavy-handed with the kettle and filled my tea mug to the brim. I laughed out loud, thinking about you and how you always seemed to feel that any mug not filled to the tippy top was a waste of space. I don't think I ever saw you spill one, though, even through all the years and the many cups of tea poured. 

My neighbor has twinkle lights up in her yard. Not just for the season, it's a year-round thing for her. But in the snow it glows especially bright so that even during the dark of the moon (which we are passing through now), it is as bright as can be around her home. 

That's all, Shannon. Oh, and I connected with Deborah recently, it was very sweet, we talked about you, among other things, and the power of intersecting lives.  It is suffice to say that your name still lands upon the lips of many, and of course, hearts are filled, released, filled again. Blessings to you and your journey. And blessings to those lives you touched. 

Warmly, Leah