-- a journey into awareness
Never walk
into Servati’s
eyeing their
generous wedge
of carrot cake
convincing yourself
it will last at least
three days.
Denial does not
stop the calories
from going to
your hips.
It does not numb
you out enough,
you still feel, yep
you still feel.
It did taste pretty
darn good though.
A small consolation
to be savored.
I hit a space
where I feel alone
lost, cutoff.
I’m not of course.
Friends reach out
with care and food.
So where does
vulnerability
come from?
Did I over identify
with “us”?
Did “me” get lost?
Filling out the all
the paperwork
scares me.
It never used to.
Did I think he was a
talisman for me?
My mind searches
for an explanation,
even though I know
it’s only with time that
a new way of life
will be born.
Worms feed robins
Mice feed coyotes
Cattle feed humans
Everything gives
of itself to sustain life
Our bodies decay
and feed the earth
The air we exhale,
others breathe in
The dance of life
The sacred giving
and receiving
Stop the flow
and you are
out of step
You suddenly think
you are more important
then the field mice
This form will end.
The only thing that
lives on is our love
It flows on like a river
through everything,
until resting in the ocean
it evaporates
lifting into clouds, and
the dance starts again.
When a woman screams
during childbirth.
Does she need healing?
Her life has certainly
changed forever, in ways
beyond imagination.
When a woman keens the
loss of a child,
Is it healing she needs?
Loss isn’t a wound
you put salve on
and the skin grows back.
Loss is a space
A void that pulls you
into a reordering of life
Without him, who am I?
How do I spend my time?
Who do I tell my secrets to?
The cycle of life forces us
to detach, to remember
our deeper truth
To reach up or in
To reconnect with the Love
that is not dependent on form.
Grief is a mini death that
brings us home to anchor,
to remember what’s important
Grief strips us,
and then connects us
to each other and to God
Last night it hit
the sobs came
in waves
A neighbor stopped
by with a card
and the dam broke
The card was for me
not him,
my life had changed
I loved him so much
we were both at peace
he was ready to go
Somehow I kept at bay
how sobs and cries echo
in a room when you’re alone
“Who should we call
in case of emergency”
I’ll get back with you on that.
Today I’m resting in the
now of my life. not knowing
the next step, knowing I’m
kin to all those before me
who stand alone, aware they
were left behind.
Twenty questions*
* A workshop exercise we used to use to help people get past the superficial answers, only the question was “who am I”. This “Twenty Questions” comes from the concern of friends and family. What do I say…..
How are you? I don’t know
How are you? Here. No that’s good, really.
How are you? Thinking
How are you? Getting things done
How are you? Feeling supported
How are you? Grateful, I had him for so long
How are you? Noticing the silence
How are you? Getting things done
How are you? Grateful for my friends
How are you? Wondering how the bed got sooo big
How are you? Trying to remember how to buy food for one
How are you? I just am
How are you? I don’t know, sad
How are you? Weeding the garden
How are you? My back hurts
How are you? Trying to sleep through the night
How are you? Peaceful
How are you? Wanting to make sure others’ needs are met
How are you? Waiting for death certificates
How are you? It’s just the beginning, I don’t know
The journey continues….I feel supported, loved. I am blessed!
Now there is the
endless space
he used to fill
the endless to do
list to get affairs
in order
The mental fog
that’s either
life’s comfort
or the aftermath,
reflecting the
magnitude
of the quake
splitting open
the ordinary
So I buy his favorite
cherry tomato plant
I plant it
What else would,
could, I do
You walk around the house
half the things you touch
are his
His toothbrushes
His clothes
His coffee mug
You think about moving
these things on
And the thought
Comes,
“but he might
need them”
And you remember
he’s lying
In hospice
He won’t need them.
He’s not coming
home, at least
Not to this home. The
one you can’t imagine
without him.
You throw the toothbrush
out, a first step, a baby step,
In the daunting tasks to come.
Different identities
They rise up
There’s the fearful one
The controller
The loyal wife
The caretaker
All reactive
Ego driven
The Observer
says “return to
Center, sit in silence,
Listen”
So who’s Dying here
Who’s letting go?
His life ebbs
But mine is torn
Stripped as
mini deaths
Force me to Truth
His life, God’s life
One life, our life
It directs us,
guides us
If we Listen
How to stay in that
Knowing that flow
Is this my lesson?
His gift to me
Even as he lies there
dying?
Hovering…
What can I do
to protect you?
I see suffering
My fault
I’m not enough.
God’s. Plan?
Lost the bigger
picture…it’s too
much to bear
Find Center
Find peace
Go to the silence
for solace
I feel fear
of what?
Failing.
Can’t understand him
How can I help?
Not in control
Done everything I
knew how to do
Not enough
I’m not enough
What learning
is there in this.
Keeps you humble
The nurse said
Not my strong suit.
Dealing with death brings all the feelings, beliefs, fears to the surface. I try to witness them. No need to console me…it’s already changed. I’ve moved to a new “now”.