Bardo

I thought it would be different this year.

Easier?

I don't know. Maybe I hoped it would be easier.

I suppose it could have been, I suppose it will be (someday), and I suppose there is no point in suppose-ing.

I forget and then I remember that grief has it's own timeline and it's own process. It has it's own energy and life form. It comes through when it needs to and when it must. Resist it, you might? But wise, that is not.

If you cannot or will not carve out the time, it will schedule itself on your calendar.

Typically, not at the most convenient of times - yet always the most pivotal.

Accept when the request comes in, or Divine Timing must take over…

This journey has perplexed me consistently, humbled me in ways that I needed, left me feeling raw and defeated, yet more clear and strong in ways that I didn't know were possible.

I could feel the grief building in the past month or so. But I thought, no no, this isn't grief, it can't be. I've got this, I'm good. I don't have time for this. I can just acknowledge it, not feel it and move on.

And that's when these moments happen. I heard myself say it, "we can't think our way through the emotion, we don't want to get too caught up in processing something to death, avoiding the feeling".

These are some of the best moments in my work. The truth that comes through for both myself and the client. The things that are hard to hear, but right through-to-your-soul - TRUE.

Damn.

Later, when I allowed myself to be curious about it - the emotions came, as they do.

And I wondered a lot about, why we don't allow ourselves to go there…why don't we? Do you?

In reading the book: Smoke Gets In Your Eyes & Other Lessons From The Crematory by Caitlin Doughty; she touched on many things I have pondered throughout the years about our sterile process and culture around Death, Bereavement, etc.

Did you know that people used to die in their homes, surrounded by family?

Now, many people die alone or with a worker, in a facility.

There is a lot here, of course, around how many people 'choose' to crossover. Some people wait - to see or be with someone in particular or many people, or to be alone.

It's more about the opportunity for it, for me.

There is more here, for another day.

My thought and curiosity around this is more about the inevitability of it, and our seeming resistance to it.

Grief of the past.

Of childhood.

That came to mind in my ponderings - summer nights.

With my dad. With my mom and Gaylen and Billy.

Memories I hold dear. Memories I cherish. And that I can never return to. This is what they meant about life. This is what they told us when we were young.

It was always true but now I feel it.

How blessed, how lucky. I knew him. I knew them.

Because it always leaves me thinking…what about people who never knew their parents? Lost them when they were young? Massive tragedy even beyond that, beyond what I could comprehend. How do those people do it? When, at times, I feel like this grief could bring me to my knees (and has)…how do they press on?

What do they have on their minds or on their hearts?

I can only try to bring myself back to love. To remember that this is all temporary, for better or worse. Every moment. Can we remember that?

To love ourselves, and others through it.

I still forget. Getting caught up in this human-ness. In the logic. In the reality.

So I bring myself there. To a summer night, realizing to the fullest extent that I can, the big huge love that was present for me there. There and always. Now, still. It is there. I let myself feel it, I let myself sob, and then I remember to find my breath.

Breathe, Rachael…

Remember…

We are all just walking each other home (Ram Dass)