Wednesday, December 2, 2009

a day; a life lived

   Hmm, what fabulous thoughts that run through my head are worth spilling forth this evening? Dare I comment on the Christmas decorations that went up today, that thrilled my girls when they came home this evening? Carols graced my ears and put a remembered smile on my lips. Heritage and history float in the air on the magic of the season within.
   Or shall I remark on my yoga practice today, that is always a highlight of my week. It shines in my life as an integral lifeline and sanity. This is as much for the emotional support I receive from my beloved Wellspring members, as for the actual practice itself. I could not face the day today without holding in my heart the thought of loving kindness and grace that has filled me up on a little mat sitting on the floor. The ting of Valerie's tingsha instantly melts my heart and releases unknown tensions from the day. (Tingsha creates a meditative vibration but is more commonly used for calling one into the here and now. The striking sound of the Tingsha has the ability to call one forth as well as clearing any disturbing energies in the moment. The Tingsha brings clarity and spaciousness to any space - Namaste!
   What about my conversation with a fellow yogini who has also lost a partner, fallen to cancer? Her husband was 59 and died three weeks after being diagnosed. The future is always out there, but it is ripped away in the face of this insidious disease. It is hard to truly write that though, as I have had many unexpected gifts in this journey. One of them has been me. The me that is here right now with you sitting at your computer reading these words. Cancer destroyed my world as I knew it, but handed back the seeds to germinate a new one. My new life still seems to fit loosely, but I am allowing myself to try it on. I did not want it, but the wretched gift continued to lie staring from the floor where I left it. It will not be ignored. The gift has been the sharing of it. A hard gift that is prickly to hold on most occasions. A gift that I cannot give back. And I won't. I shared my gift with a fellow journeyer this afternoon as the rain began to sprinkle down softly on our heads. She seemed so strong for so early into her journey. That strength is a garment pulled on for the benefit of a world that does not want to see our pain. I know she has had her bleak moments, but has the will somehow to work through them. I guess I do to. Don't mistake me for feeling poorly as compared to my compatriot. I know I am further along than she. I know the putting on of face for the day only to loose the stomach for it by night fall. Tears by the ocean have washed through me. That is not today though. I feel and remember.
   Perhaps I remember more today for the scab I picked at yesterday. Yes, I felt it all day, despite the Christmas crooning that tempted soothed spirits. After dinner last night conversation flowed with dear friends over a bottle of wine. The children were downstairs, lulled by a movie and our conversation somehow stumbled into my memory land. How it gets there I wonder somehow, but I have been told I have the gift of gab. When encouraged stories flow. When some of the painful memories spill forth, they must be followed through from beginning to end. I have had times when a story starts, but the thread is broken and I feel lost and broken. I have to let it out when I get there. As I tell my tales I am right back there. I feel glazed over going into this inner world of memory that seemingly tortures me. The stories must be told though. Last night I wandered through the day that my cousin was torn from my life. At fifteen it was much too early and too harsh an experience being five months on the heel of Brad's death. It led to another death, this a living kind. My in-laws dissolved from my world at this time and I still tell the tale. I lay in bed thinking on them last night. They still haunt my thoughts and I offer up my pain and regret to the ethers. A shame, a shame. Loss of a life, to bring on a new. I think that is where my rambling will end tonight. No grand epiphanies tonight. I take a kiss from the wind and curl into my pillow with it.

sweet dreams...


Related Posts with Thumbnails