JOURNEY

I wonder who I would have been. I mourn the loss of that potentiality. A conversation yesterday had me standing on the edge, a place that was not foreign to me, one that I would usually retreat from. It was that last threshold that keeps me from trusting implicitly, that I looked out from. A fear so deep seeded welled up inside me calling every fiber of my being to retreat. My life's experience told me that this next level of trust - the highest level of trust, held great power for the one to whom it is given. It has the power to do great things or to destroy or handicap.

What happens to a child when the very first person you learn to trust does not protect you? Cellular memory tells you to keep placing that trust because that is where your survival lies. Shouldn't we as mothers also have that cellular memory to "protect"? What does it look like if that cellular memory is missing generationally? It causes a rebuilding from the core. It is a journey that is fraught with pitfalls and incredible joy, highs and lows that give me pause.

Sacrifice

I suppose one could assume vain imaginings are huge in what I am about to write, but from where I sit, the reality is apparent in the passage of time and in reflection on the events that have shaped who I am and how I got to where I am now. One cannot honestly say they are grateful for the horrific paths that life takes, but I can say I understand the learning that causes patterns of living and thinking that evolve and make us a product of our own ability to process and thus survive.

Preparation

After a conversation yesterday with my friend, it was clear to me that I had prepared myself emotionally to be alone. In listening to the process of trying to make sense of suddenly (or not so suddenly) finding yourself without the one you have come to love and cherish, I found that my own process had been very similar. For five years, I had been told "not long" "not much longer". I didn't live my life in fear or denial, but in a conscious state of knowing. It wasn't that I was waiting for Wassim to go, but more than ever aware that each moment was precious and how important it was for me to live in the moment, and without regret. So with that, I was able to detach, slowly. To find an inner strength in order to do more than go through the motions involved in decision making, emotionally helping others during my own challenging time. A funny turn of events!

But finding that place of detachment had nothing to do with loving any less, much to the contrary, and more to do with the finding of space for both of us. Both in the going and the staying. There is a sweetness in that.

(NEUrOPEPTIDE Y)

I was party to a conversation last year and received some pretty good advice. "Life usually happens either in "white water" or in "calm water". Our natural human tendency is to long for the calm waters where life is easy and predictable. Unfortunately, in the REAL natural scheme of things, our lives are lived in "whitewater"......tests and difficulties. That is how we stretch our potentiality and grow stronger in character and certitude.

Sometimes I can't help but think that I've stretched and grown enough in the past (almost) 4 years and the I am definitely ready for some calm water. And, by the way, if this isn't reality, I want to know who the humorist is that is writing my life's script. AND I am thinking of demanding a happy ending! I'm just saying.......... :-)

Re-evolving!

I feel like a crystallise. In December I journeyed to Mount Carmel intending to leave my baggage there. As I walked into the Shrine of the Bab I felt that I was drawn from the inside of me. I was a lone for a short while, hardly aware of the silence that enveloped me. Before I could place my head on the Holy Threshold, I was racked with sobs. Uncontrollable.....until I got ahold of myself!! (Shoulda gone with it)

I could only stay a short while. My mind totally blank. I read the prayer of Visitation on the Wall. I tried reading from my prayer book.

"Sorry for your loss"

My friend passed from this life last weekend. I found the experience from my part to be very interesting. As an observer this time away from the emotional turmoil that happens with the passing of a close family member, I was reminded of the curiousness in which we express our condolences. I don't know the origin of "this dark time" but in light of the spiritual guidance of our Beloved Faith, moving on to the Abha Kingdom should be viewed as the beginning of a journey. Moving forward with great joy, like looking forward to a birth. In essence the same thing. Her passing was anything but a "dark time". It was one she had given a lot of thought to. When Wassim passed people said "sorry for your loss". I didn't lose him. Not really. I knew where he was going, so he wasn't lost. :-) And I didn't find that I was "sorry". I did get a little mad at him because I wasn't ready, and rightly told him so from the middle of the living room.....okay, and at the top of my voice.....at times........actually, many times, so I am certain he heard me.

But I wasn't sorry. I was given 18 years with all its ups and downs and was quite happy for almost all of it. So you shouldn't be sorry for me either. Which sounds like pity. And I don't think pity fits in any form.

So to say "this dark time" just doesn't work. Not for Kathy, or Wassim, and certainly not those of us who have shared their passing. The joy that you experienced when you crossed over was felt by all who love you so dearly! Light upon light! We felt your soul soaring!!

I returned to The Ranch on Tuesday, still in an empty minded state.  Problem is that I had a realization while in California that I found a little troubling.  As women we seem to expect that since we have been oppressed for so long, that it is only the men who need to do their "work".  And I've come to understand that in that expectation we don't grow and learn ourselves.  We just expect the men in our lives and around us to "know" what needs to change and then do it (damn it!).  But what of that change?  In those steps towards equality, we have somehow lost the notion that we are hanging on to antiquated ideas of what a relationship should look like.  We don't quite get it if we are stuck in the maladaptive behavior that helped us to survive generationally in disfunctional relationships.  With the advancement of the men in our lives, there MUST come a realization from our part that we MUST drop the survival habits that served us so well and evolve ourselves.

So here I am.  Stuck somewhere in the middle of where I was.....my expectation that somehow I was okay with who and where I was and that others should change around me.....and that all would be right with the world if that happened.  And if my actions and reactions remained where they were for so many years, how then do I move forward in my own process?  How does the way I react in the world really change?

I've listened to my girlfriends - old ones and new ones, in the  subtle comments about their relationships with husbands and family members.  I wonder where did any semblance of happiness go?  Is there no shred of joy left?  Why is it okay to just go through the motions of a relationship?  Kind of like a dance with no music.  How very sad.

Was my marriage perfect?  Absolutely not!  But there was a joy of being together in the moment.  The wanting to be together, even to reach out only to hear the sound of each other's voice.  An adoration.......ahhhhhhhhhhhh  adoration.......   (I miss that part - mutual and reciprocal).   But so often I hear distain in the voices of women.  I can't stand in that place any more.  The place that allows me to agree that we just put up with men because that is the way they are, or that "that" is the  way we are for that matter.  But as I said, I am now somewhere in the middle of that process.  I can't go back to what I used to know, the place of comfort in male-bashing expectations that excluded me from the pattern of growth.  I can only move forward and hope like hell that I don't fall back in to those old patterns that die hard.