Thanksgiving

What a few weeks of reminders of the wonder of thanks-giving, of what it means to love and to be loved. Where do I begin to express the energy lessons and experiences I’ve lived in the last few weeks? Our family was together again this Thanksgiving, with only a few unable to come because of schedules, and as always I enjoyed our get-together. The familiarity of rituals is fun – even the getting ready, the car shuffling, deciding who is going in which car, what time to be “there” (my aunt and uncle’s lovely home), the great spread of food including an asparagus casserole that my Aunt makes as part of the Thanksgiving tradition and other contributions from friends such as delicious cole slaw and pickled cabbage and sausage. So much was so familiar and fun in its familiarity, and a few changes were dramatic and sad. Mom was determined to go and dressed well, as always, though it took such energy to do so. We persuaded Dad to go, and I think he enjoyed being with everyone, even though he could not eat the offerings. He had a sucker or two from his stash that turned his mouth blue. Sumner asked him to name his favorite flavor.

After Thanksgiving Day, I became more focused than ever on the energies of life and disease and health and healing as they presented themselves in our collective. All of the movements Dad made were with absolute deliberation, and I marveled again at how our energy works with our matter to motivate us to move and to change – physical positions as profoundly as mental and emotional “positions.” I watched my brother tend to Dad also, so patiently, and my nieces and nephews marvel and observe as the changes in energy unfold before their eyes.

As I listened to Dad’s comments and took in how I felt his words, what he could do and couldn’t do, how he felt, I felt the integration of us as energy beings in one more profound way. He wanted help, advice, as well as to be able to do what he could do. Instructions can confuse a mind struggling to orient itself in its matter, as its matter is changing function. What we are used to our body “doing” begins to change, and our relationship to ourselves “as a body” with it.

As I slept in the bed with my mother, and felt her energy so close, I became more aware of the reality of energy levels “all around.” That is, how we behave as energy and matter beings, with our energy fluctuating constantly, focusing itself in different degrees, different ways at different times. As moments change. I felt the absolute comfort of nesting in bed, relieved of activities or the energy of activity in the daytime. Nothing was required then except to rest, to cradle our own energy. I heard and felt her breathing, the soft rise and fall. I breathed deeply, to know my own energy as love, and to smile with her, from the inside. It has been many years since we have slept in the same bed, and my memories of our laughing together are vivid. We talked about this one night before sleep.

Once when I came back into the bedroom darkness after checking on Dad, I heard my Mom’s voice say, You’re just like a ghost. This made me laugh, too. It isn’t my normal pattern, I said, slipping under the covers again.

It was fun to feel the energy of our parents and of Mike, M.A., and I there together after others had left, just as it was great to be with John and everyone else in the whirlwind of the holiday. Each family member, spouses, children, all their own ambassadors of life at this moment. Everyone plays their unique role being themselves. One buys flowers while another cleans. Every smile means the world. We adapt easily with each other, if not always gracefully, and always we laugh a lot at the least provocation.

That evening when we felt we had to call 911 for Dad, our hospital journey began again.

I thought about all the energy between us, the energy his body was using, the love I felt in his innocence and appreciation of the gift of life. Mixed in the week’s gathering I felt the joy and smiles and some laughter, as we always do, but a pronounced sadness lingered and was heavy to walk with, through. I became conscious of how pronounced the physical energies of our lives are – the lists, the chores, the things our minds become so occupied with, that need to BE DONE, as though our lives depend upon them. I also appreciated the flow of how these tasks can be accomplished – as we learn to communicate, as we pick up where another leaves off, as we ask and answer, as we do.

At my mother’s friend’s suggestion, and having time at the hospital, I began to read a borrowed copy of The Shack, a recent “novel” growing in popularity. On the cover of this copy is written this endorsement, “This book has the potential to do for our generation what John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress did for his. It’s that good!” The story centers on one man’s life experience, a great loss (The Great Sadness) he suffers, and how his experience of God, love, life, and death begin to change. As he enters the scene where his daughter’s tragedy occurs, his world opens into the energy of love and the manifestations of “God” as he will come to know them. So now what am I supposed to do, he asked. You’re not supposed to do anything. You’re free to do whatever you like, the energy character called Jesus says. Don’t go because you feel obligated. That won’t get you any points around here. Go because it’s what you want to do.
After I had read these words, I heard Dad’s voice saying again, What should I do now? Suddenly I had an insight into how my mind has sought answers to life’s questions, and how our training from our many lives as physical beings forgetting that we are energy beings first shapes our thinking to ask What shall I DO now, to help us hear the voices within us that are guiding our energy forces every moment. The function of our matter changes as our thinking changes, and our mind begins to lose its connection to the way our matter moves. We become foreign to ourselves, until we know ourselves as spiritual energy beings.

The help and support we have experienced as a family has been wonderful. The list is long, and continues. For example, church members signed up to stay with Dad as he recuperates. His Sunday School class came to his hospital room on Sunday so he could "be there." He was delighted. He is eager to go home. What do I do to make that happen? he asks, his resolve firm in the moment. Focus on moving, I say, with full love, a little at a time. We use our energy to go where we want to go. I am thankful.