A prayer
As I was still in the deep undercurrent of loss and grief, feeling the waves crash over and over without a breath, it felt increasingly harder to keep up with the unrealistic speed and pace of the business of life around me. I prayed that life be different, that we as a human species, we would focus more on the value of life, the meaning of living and wanting deep intimate connection with one another which I felt had been something forgotten, like a spell had been cast and we were walking around blissfully unaware. What comes to mind is a scene out of the movie, Pleasantville, like we forgot what colors look like and only seeing what is in front of us verses what is all around and beyond us. Like we forgot what was possible and real. We made up a story and believing in that story for so long that we forgot that we have the ability to change that story. For ourselves and for each other.
I was so tired and so worn, I just wanted it all to stop. A few months later, it all did. A global pandemic plagued our world, with immense loss, constant fear and isolation. While I knew my prayer did not make this happen, I found it hard not to reflect on what the earth or something more powerful was telling us. There was so much happening pre-COVID that I was in conflict with in terms of how we were living – collectively and individually. My heart was broken, I was overwhelmed with the thought of how to make such impactful changes, to share my story and to somehow connect with people so we could start to make a collective shift, for people to see each other and life differently.
This journey for me has been in play for a while, although feeling it and getting it all down on paper only started two years ago pre-COVID. So while my journey didn’t change, what the past year did for me was that it presented space, reflection, connection and a remembering for others to see things maybe a bit differently. To slow down and pause – take a hard look at what mattered for them – how they were living and if they felt meaning or connection. Since I don’t believe I ever really understand “normal” I was not looking to re-visit a life that was void of what I felt I was missing or were missing as a human beings. What I see now, is a potential opportunity for us to maybe shape our way of living that considers more than just consumers in life but promoters and of lovers of it and one another.
Looking back
I am finding it hard to breath, I notice I am holding my breath. It is September 18, 2020, and my father’s 1-year anniversary is nearing. I have lost track of time. I don’t recall the past 12 months. If I was to give words to describe it, it feels empty – blank – like I had a memory lapse and can only recall the past few days. I realize I have been holding my breath for the past two weeks or possibly even longer. It has been a year and I start to remember. I start to take myself back to the months, days, and minutes leading up to his death. One year, feels like one month ago. In the fall sky, I see a sliver of the delicate moon that has given way to the day’s sun with wisps of extraordinary colors and I catch my breath. I remember. I saw a similar sky the early morning he died. I am overcome with the wave of emotion. He is with me and I am reminded of the higher purpose of life.
I feel caught between worlds. One of material and physical and one that is ethereal but still very present.
Over the past year, and probably longer if I am honest, I have felt torn between these two worlds and trying to live and be present in both. Suffering a deep loss has re-connected me again to my soul; and instead of choosing to live between these two lives and experiences, I realize they can live and be present in both. At times, I feel completely separate from my physical body while knowing my spirt is connected.
I am still holding my breath, but I am still here. I am still alive and here on this earth. With so many amazing blessings around me – my children, my husband, my family, my friends – all present and some now have passed. With space and time I realize that in the year after my father died, I was feeling more, being more and grieving. I was worrying less, thinking less. So while I can’t remember much that year has now given me insight to reconnecting to all of me. I still feel the immense responsibility to do something with all of this – to share, to connect, to say it out loud there may be some others that want to share as well. To help others feel less alone. Whatever that may look like or be….. let it be what it is…. whole self and whole heart, whole soul…raw, real and here.
Recently, I heard a line in a movie that hit me right in the gut or really the heart. “Every story has an end. But in life every ending is just a new beginning.” It put words to all that I was feeling, all that I had been reflecting and realizing. I continue to begin, to connect, to grow. Loss has reminded of that gift. It has become clear to me. We are all connected – life is connected in us and around us – past, present and what will be…
It’s in these moments of reflecting, of honoring space, where I see flashes of my past – emotional, hard moments connected to the present. With this realization, this moment, I start to breathe. Maybe this is what my purpose and this platform is for – to honor and connect the multidimensional self, space, time, the past, present and what will be…
Reminding me. Continue to feel, continue to wonder, continue to love and love deeply, continue to have hope, continue to connect and believe that he is with me and all around me, continue to believe that life is a gift – breathing is a gift – living is a gift – I can’t help but ask myself what else can I be doing to connect more, learn more, to give more. I am open and learning and seeing where it takes me..
Loss & learning
A friend once said to me, I am closer to my father since he died than I was when he was alive. It had been something I was thinking about and she put the words out there in the world. It was so true. I felt closer to my father in death than in life. I talked with him more and he was with me every day. We actually had a better relationship in death than in life. That did not mean I did not miss him or want him here. It just meant I felt that we finally have the relationship we both craved versus how it showed up in the land of the living. I finally understood as a parent how hard it was to want so much for your children – to keep it all afloat and to be the best version of ourselves all of the time. I have more compassion for him, understanding and appreciation for how much I didn’t know.
In the past year, it felt that there were so many more lives lost – not just from COVID; people that were part of us and this life had disappeared unexpectedly. The delicateness of life and the journey has become more real for me. I see now how deep emotion, loss, love and finding my way is my biggest challenge and gift. All of the pieces are starting to connect while I know there is so much hard and important work to be done. What I have found to be true, is that in the wholeness of loss – loss of time, youth, love, space, place, relationships, loved ones, there is a learning, a finding, a meaning, a purpose, a next day, a moment, another breath and a choice. I have learned to focus on being an expert of me, all of me, and to then be curious and learn more of others, being in gratitude for this moment.