This amber ring
Tata Ona, my beautiful godmother, was very dear to me when she graced this earth. And she remains very dear to me, her spirit is always in my heart. She was my real life version of a fairy godmother. Her wings tucked neatly behind her smiling eyes. And like a fairy godmother, she was tiny. I could look her in the eye when I was a mere eight and a half years of age.
I am a little embarrassed to admit, that as a young child, my catch-cry was ‘Nobody loves me!’ Pondering as I write this as to why, I think it was because I didn’t feel seen. The third child, I felt I disturbed the balance of the two who came before me. Shifted the evenness of my parents having a boy and a girl. One of each gender. One for each hand. A nice balance. And then another girl came along. Me. And no one was really sure how she slotted in.
I was also not sure, as a young child, what I had to offer the world. My two older siblings are so talented. Naturally gifted. From a very young age my older brother played the piano magically and beautifully, like he had brought the gift from another lifetime into this world. As a child, my older sister would sit quietly with pencil and paper, observing the world. Her small hands creating a beautiful piece of art beyond her years. She could see things in ways others couldn’t. And she could express them, in her drawings. They were magnificent. I didn’t feel I had a tangible talent. I felt a little lost. Reflecting back on my childhood, we often laughed together that my talent seemed to be to add a little drama into our worlds. When, later in life I did get up on stage, it was no surprise. I had always been described at home as somewhat ‘dramatic’ — as my catch-cry attests.
I grew up in a safe and loving family home. But it was a house were mistakes were not overly welcomed. Risks not taken. You were taught, with love, that you had to be careful in the dangerous world out there. But I was full of mistakes. Bursting at the seams to take risks. Desperate to taste a little bit of the world’s danger. This created a disconnect. Particularly during my teenage years. I also didn’t trust the love of others. And that was not from this world. I know my parents and my siblings loved (and continue to love) me very much. But for some reason I was always waiting for the hurt. I loved with an open heart, but I was born carrying a belief that for others, love is more conditional, and when it isn’t, it comes with judgement.
But my Tata Ona. She saw me. She loved me. Without judgement. Without condition. She had lots of god children. She took on many orphaned children. Of which I was one. Not biologically orphaned, but I had an orphaned soul. (Perhaps this is why I was convinced I was adopted when I was very young, another catch-cry of mine!) And she. She was my fairy godmother. My real godmother. My godmother. She made me feel special. She accepted my being. In its totality. And even though she was my godmother, it was like she was the godmother of all of us. Every child I grew up with. Such was the generosity of spirit she carried. Such was her enormous heart. She made each and every single one of us feel special, in our own way. She showed us that she saw us. She would also make sure we each got a gift with every visit. No one every missed out. Her gifts. We cherished.
One such gift was a beautiful amber ring. I was sixteen at the time she gave it to me. She had been back to Lithuania for a visit, to see her family. And she brought back to me this amber ring made with a beautiful piece of Baltic Amber. In a tear drop shape. At the time she gave it to me, I loved it because it was a gift from her, but it was very big. Sat high on your finger. Stood out. And the stone was set in a very intricate setting. The shape was not round enough for me, it wasn’t what I was used to. It was not something that was really my sense of style at that age. I didn’t wear it for years, but I kept it. Because it was from her. I kept it in a jewellery box and would get it out often to sit and look at it for a while. Hold it. Try to understand its magic, and the secrets it held. I had a deep knowing that one day it would suit me. And I would wear it, every day.
And now, I do. I have always loved this amber ring. There is just something about it, I cannot describe what exactly, it just makes me feel alive and connected to something mysterious and larger than all of us. I started wearing it more as I got older and after we gave Tata Ona, her last kisses. After she died at 97 years of age a couple of years ago (she would be turning 100 next June) I have worn this amber ring every day since. It feels like I have a piece of her spirit with me, whenever I look down and see it sitting their on my left hand, on my pointer finger, next to the other rings I wear on my other fingers. It is a beautiful ring made with butterscotch coloured amber and a design and marking in it, that someone once told me was called ‘cat’s eye amber’.
Baltic Amber is believed to have been formed over 45 million years ago, from ancient forests which lined the Baltic Sea. Amber is fossilised aromatic resin. Baltic Amber is the oldest amber around. And sometimes, it washes up on the shore holding the spirit and physical essence of leaves or tiny insects, like dragonflies and ladybugs, inside. It is exquisitely beautiful. Amber is said to have healing properties of the heart. It is said to bring balance to the world, both your inner and your outer worlds. It is known for its cleansing nature. For balancing emotion. For awakening your creative soul.
Ever since I have started wearing this amber ring every day, this beautiful amber ring Tata Ona gave me so many moons ago, beautiful and wonderful things have turned up in my life. I said hello to my creative soul. I allowed the writer inside me to get into the driver’s seat. Since wearing this amber ring. I discovered I have a gift for teaching and guiding meditation. And like amber, meditation has healing properties. Wearing this amber ring I have realised that being seen isn’t about others seeing you, but you seeing your true self. Tata Ona saw me. She believed in me. She showed me how to see me. How to believe in me. Wearing this amber ring, I trust the love of others. And have come to understand and know that when offered conditional love by others, when handed love packaged with judgment, that it is not love at all. But something disguised as love. And it is not for me. I can turn my back on it. Without fear. Walk away, wearing this amber ring.
I have come to understand this amber ring is part of my personal symbology. I bumped into the fact that I have been wearing the tears of a mermaid on my finger each day, when I discovered my myth to be a beautiful ancient Lithuanian story. Myth is such a great way to understand ourselves and our behaviours. But that is a story for tomorrow, or the next day.
I am so incredibly grateful to Tata Ona, for everything she taught me about love, life and self. For her laughter. For her love. For her being part of my story, and for me being part of hers.
Originally published at http://curiousmuse.com.au on October 5, 2020.