Sounds like a Beatles song, but this was so real and very cool.
I have been under some extreme pressure for two weeks ( the kind that isn't posted on Facebook), and even though everyone (well except one person) keeps telling me everything is going to be ok, I am scared. I think I have done everything that I can do in my own power to make the situation different, now it it literally up to God and people who aren't me.
And so the dream.....
I am walking down the street , and I get picked up into the air a few hundred feet, and I keep saying "let GO", then I am dropped but I fall to the ground gracefully. The next day, I am walking again and the same thing happens only this time we fly higher and I am saying Let Go, and I fall gracefully to the ground. The third time, I am picked up by what I now see as a great hawk, and it's giagantic talons are gently holding me. We are flying so very high and my Let go is coming from my heart. I feel the wind whishing past me, and we are climbing higher in the clouds. When we get to the end of my belief that I will survive this, the Great Hawk looks at me and gently says "let Go", and I fall safely back the the ground.
So just for today , I will let go. I will let go of the hurt and anger, the need for control. Today I will stay in the sunshine and the joy of freedom.
Maybe this situation being out of my control is exactly where it needs to be, and I just need to let it. So whatever you are holding onto today, just let go for a moment and enjoy what is around you. I will be right with you!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Today I sat by the grave of a friend........
Today is the third anniversary of the death of a friend of mine. Even though it was an "accident", I am still struck by the horror of the life of a beautiful talented woman cut so short. I swear in the past two days, I have seen women that look just like her.
Those of us who were involved in her last day have struggled every day since her passing. Wondering what should we have done differently to change the outcome. Yet how can you plan for an accident, even when you see the cliff coming for them? Could I have loved her more, gone to her house and wrapped her in a blanket and feed her hot chocolate until she stopped crying?
I remember just weeks before her death, she had graduated from college, and revelling in her joy of completion. Beautiful moments for someone so deserving.
The first year of her death, ( though this may sound weird) I sat by her grave a lot, trying to figure out why she was there. The times I spend by her grave are so much less now, yet the ritual is always the same. I put flowers on the grave of her baby she lost a few years before her death. Then I go to where she is ( which is in viewing distance of the baby's grave) and ask her again, "Why are you here?". Then I tell her that I love her and have no judgement of her choices. I close my eyes and somehow hope that when I open them I will hear her silly laugh and blue eyes laughing at me, with her southern drawl telling me some story.
And I wonder why those who were involved that day still can't talk about our loss. People who weren't involved that day seem to have so easily moved on, like she is a chapter in their lives. For me, some part of me is stuck, stuck in that time and day. My hand gripping the garden arbor over the grave at her funeral because I was pretty sure I was going to scream or pass out. And no one notices. They tell me to get over it and move on, yet in that unexpressed scream my heart is still there.
Her death, as painful as it was, and still is, has saved me many times. So many times I want to give up, believing the lie that this is all too hard, and I focus too much on the pain. Then I remember her, and how much we loved each other as sisters. It is almost like she is kicking my butt, drawing me to my real life, my art, and joy. And I believe one more time. After all, I am alive. I have love and joy. While I believe she is at rest, I know that dying was not what she wanted for any of us. Or to waste a moment of the miracle of this life we all have.
So today, I allow all of the feelings. The horror, the pain, the joy, and the motivation to keep moving toward my truth, to my real life.
Thank you for being my friend, for teaching me about me, and being willing to share what turned out to be the end of your life with me. While the pain is real, so is the memory of our friendship. I look forward to seeing you again, and showing to you what I accomplished because you were my friend.
And every year, I will bring you flowers, because you will be forever spring to me.
Those of us who were involved in her last day have struggled every day since her passing. Wondering what should we have done differently to change the outcome. Yet how can you plan for an accident, even when you see the cliff coming for them? Could I have loved her more, gone to her house and wrapped her in a blanket and feed her hot chocolate until she stopped crying?
I remember just weeks before her death, she had graduated from college, and revelling in her joy of completion. Beautiful moments for someone so deserving.
The first year of her death, ( though this may sound weird) I sat by her grave a lot, trying to figure out why she was there. The times I spend by her grave are so much less now, yet the ritual is always the same. I put flowers on the grave of her baby she lost a few years before her death. Then I go to where she is ( which is in viewing distance of the baby's grave) and ask her again, "Why are you here?". Then I tell her that I love her and have no judgement of her choices. I close my eyes and somehow hope that when I open them I will hear her silly laugh and blue eyes laughing at me, with her southern drawl telling me some story.
And I wonder why those who were involved that day still can't talk about our loss. People who weren't involved that day seem to have so easily moved on, like she is a chapter in their lives. For me, some part of me is stuck, stuck in that time and day. My hand gripping the garden arbor over the grave at her funeral because I was pretty sure I was going to scream or pass out. And no one notices. They tell me to get over it and move on, yet in that unexpressed scream my heart is still there.
Her death, as painful as it was, and still is, has saved me many times. So many times I want to give up, believing the lie that this is all too hard, and I focus too much on the pain. Then I remember her, and how much we loved each other as sisters. It is almost like she is kicking my butt, drawing me to my real life, my art, and joy. And I believe one more time. After all, I am alive. I have love and joy. While I believe she is at rest, I know that dying was not what she wanted for any of us. Or to waste a moment of the miracle of this life we all have.
So today, I allow all of the feelings. The horror, the pain, the joy, and the motivation to keep moving toward my truth, to my real life.
Thank you for being my friend, for teaching me about me, and being willing to share what turned out to be the end of your life with me. While the pain is real, so is the memory of our friendship. I look forward to seeing you again, and showing to you what I accomplished because you were my friend.
And every year, I will bring you flowers, because you will be forever spring to me.
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