It has been a few months since I have written. There is a part of me that wants to share some story of a journey through insight and hope. I think I feel some embarrassment that I don’t have that to offer up. But that has not been my story these last few months and all I have to offer is a more humble truth.
The first eight or nine months I was in a deep grief. I am struck that it is a time line of a birth but what I was doing didn’t have the happy anticipation of birth. Like birth I was letting my body and heart do what was needed and that seemed to be to mourn my beloved husband and the life we had created.
But what came after that deep grief wasn’t the light coming through clouds or any of those sort of beautiful images one has after a storm. No my experience has been more of a gray mist. As though the storm had churned me and where I found myself has been one of a thin veil of depression. I say a thin veil because I wasn’t taken over by the depression but it seemed to lie on my body. I still am learning how to be with it.
The grief had moved through me and led to a sweetness of having loved. Difficult as it was, there was a movement to it and a release. When I try to stay present to depressionI get caught by it. As though even the awareness of it causes me to get wrapped up in it, even without the story of where it started. In a personal session I inquired how to be with this experience. I was told to stay awake to it.. not to turn away or go more deeply…but to be curious. I tried but still I find that it was hard to be curious when there is a voice saying it didn’t matter. And then there has been more loss…
In May.. My beloved father-in-law passed away. He was a best friend to me. Bob and Doug and I had traveled together for the last 12 or so years. He was 90 and on the one hand I see that his death was part of great turning. His very sweet and gentle soul joined the all that is. And I am aware that with his death came a shift in the patterns of family. Those same patterns had shifted two years ago when my sister and brother-in-law died. It is hard to describe the feeling I have of experiencing the absence of these family members older than myself who were part of that older circle. It is different when it is your generation that is leaving. Perhaps that was why I found it hard to get through this mist all around me.
Yet today I write because I feel a little better. I have been going to many meditation retreats and it has been a good thing for my soul to be held that way. To be in community that is in service to knowing a deeper and sacred truth. I feel I am on the edge of a knowing. I feel a little apprehension when I write that as though I am somehow signing up to be expected to know something.
The other morning I was waking up and looked over from my bed. The picture of Doug and I across the room had the light shining on it. Doug’s image was not to be seen as he was in the light. My image is alone and a book by my teacher A. H. Almaas underneath reads “The Unfolding Now”