Wednesday, March 10, 2010
"The illusion of death does not change what is"
Recently I sent an acquaintance a message acknowledging the death of his mother, and the sudden loss. He posted a beautiful message about his sense of loss, including his lingering at the windows in his home deep into the silent night, watching the snow fall. For the first time he felt the big soft snow flakes as tears falling from the sky. He described the apathy he felt after his Dad died, and the wind going out of his sails. He lost the passion for doing even the things he loved; his actions were robotic. Then the gentle breeze picked up, and he regained his love of life. He trusts, because he knows, this will happen again in its own time. Because your parents’ deaths came so close together, you’re probably still bobbing gently, he wrote. The breeze will come for you, too. What a wonderful message. Communication is one of the ethical values, and always a gift.
“Bobbing gently” is a good description of how I have felt sometimes since my parents died. I understand how apathy makes what were “normal” activities rote and less interesting. I’ve realized with a fresh mind that this “new normal” is the opening expression of love beyond what we have known before. What makes life interesting begins with the energy of the breeze, the spirit that inspires us into life and supports us in leaving life to begin again. I remember this. The “new normal” is a fresh sense of life, a new attitude about consciously expanding myself as spirit energy, adventure beyond what we had grown accustomed to. This is why we create change, and why change is absolute for us.
Yesterday Kathy and I were talking at work. She commented about a mutual long-time acquaintance, saying that over all of the time she has known this person, never have they talked about how this person really feels, who she is. This is a sad statement to me, too, and I remember old friends knocking on my mind and heart’s door sometimes for years with great patience! (John Prine’s famous song, Angel from Montgomery, says it so well!….How the hell can a person go to work in the morning And come home in the evening and have nothing to say.) I realize what a wonderful education and gift it is to open a mind and heart to express itself, whether the sad beauty of snowflakes as tears as we think of our “lost” mothers, or the delight of throwing snowballs just where we want them in the thrill of cold air and laughing children (big or small). When I am impatient (angry) I think of the infinite patience of mothers (our spirit symbol), and I am grateful for such love. Thank you for all of the stories told through time! Let’s keep sharing our memories of what it means to be human. This is one of our best antidotes to disease and war.