Yesterday I was outside my house.The full moon was high, like a possibility of peace. I was shuddering with horror. I was trembling. My body was thin and pale, and the ice winds seemed to push against the outline of my Self. Bits of me were dissolving and breaking off. I was wailing.
Something in me was weeping. Huge, ungoverned sounds were forced out. I choked on them as they arrived. I could bite my tongue out and they would still come. I was shouting into the air, I was screaming, I was crying. My face in the cold air was wet and raw.
My partner was gently urging me inside. But my body was crumpled in a chair and I could not rise. I couldn't figure out how. Or why I would. I saw my hands in my lap and I thought of them as dead things, curled spiders, disjointed knuckles and flesh.
What brought me to that place? Small things, little hints, tiny triggers. An accumulation of moments. Till suddenly and without respite, I was falling apart.
We all know these places. We are all travellers there, and many come back as if from war, scarred and missing limbs. I am not unique.
I overheard a friend say yesterday to someone else, "Trauma makes you reinvent yourself." There is a truth to that - it happens without your permission. You don't get to go to the life coach and say, hey, my self esteem is low and I would like to take up hockey. Trauma just takes you by the neck and shakes you til you break. And then you get up, adjust your bones, and learn how to walk again. Or this is what I think so far. I'm not up to the walking part yet.
A friend asked me how I was on Monday, and I just sent her back this picture from Shaun Tan's The Red Tree. Shaun Tan is the best storyteller in the universe. He really is. if you don't know that yet you should go here and find out.
Thank you so much for sharing this with me. My mom passed away at 90 and with me at 59. My dad died in 1984. When I was speaking with my brother over the phone in the final day of my mom's existence, both he and I let out howl's of pain. When I drove up to summer camp to tell my 10 year old Grandma had died, we both cried together. That was it for my crying. Nothing since then.
ReplyDeleteI believe that allowing yourself to be the conduit of your grief, from Full Moons to Mondays, is a good thing. Crying so hard you feel like you are going to disappear or jump out of your own skin, is a good thing. Wanting your mom back so bad you cannot bear it any longer is a good thing.
Life will get itself on. You seem a profoundly sensitive and wonderful human being. I don't know your mom, but I am sure she is shining with the wonder you are as a person and beaming with pride and love. I am also guessing from the other side of the world, but I have a feeling like you are blessed with a wonderful partner in the here and now as well.
The very best to you in this part of life's journey. Many blessings.
Zach
I have been absent for a long while and your comments on my blog brought me back to read your heartbreaking stories.
ReplyDeleteYou express so well your feelings of grief and anguish. You have suffered a major loss and you miss your mum, as you should. How sweet your friends have been, that is a saving grace.
my heart goes out to you and your family. I know the experience well, when someone's body just plain wears out on them. It hurts like hell to hold their hand through that journey, and yet there is no other way.
much love to you.
I love your comment........."Trauma just takes you by the neck and shakes you til you break. And then you get up, adjust your bones, and learn how to walk again." Or skate.....
ReplyDeleteOh my dear one...I certainly can relate to your experience! Be forewarned...there is no specific antidote, no prayer just for you...grief will be all around you, inside you, about you, for some time to come...everything takes time my friend...please be gentle with yourself and all the thinking that arises. In the end, it is just another part of our life's cycle. Nothing matters and everything matters...how ridiculous is that?!
ReplyDeleteI am wrapping my arms around you now. You are so loved by the all that is...Om mani padme hum _/|\_
Hey BB! I posted this excerpt from Thich Nhat Hanh's "Old Path, White Clouds" when BuddhaBear lost his mother, and he found it meaningful. I hope you will as well. It came to mind again, reading your poignant words about the moon, and sitting in your chair. I always imagine you walking in those beautiful woods you've posted before, and I think of the flowers your Mum loved, and it brought this to mind:
ReplyDelete" Still holding the king’s hand, the Buddha said, ‘Father, take a deep look at me, at Nanda and Rahula. Look at the green leaves on the branches outside your window. Life continues. As life continues, so do you. You will continue to live in me and in Nanda and Rahula, and in all beings. The temporal body arises from the four elements which dissolve only to endlessly recombine again. Father, don’t think that because the body passes away, life and death can bind us. Rahula’s body is also your body.’ "
I really love this, and find it so useful in so many ways. I hope you will as well. The great thing about being broken open and having to get up and "adjust your bones" is you can decide what flesh you put back over them!
Thinking of you,
_/|\_
MS
"trauma makes you reinvent yourself" for sho!!
ReplyDeletehow can it not? hang on dear cause it will be wild! and i love the above comment...very visual...very true.
another tsunami of love heading your way....
Holding you in my heart today. Be gentle with yourself.
ReplyDeletei think of you daily and your path...i have two daughters in their late 20's...and my recent decision to stop chemo treatments to spend quality time w/them. you are in my prayers, may you find peace within.
ReplyDeletehazel
Just letting you know I featured this post and your blog on my list of best buddhism blogs: http://www.allconsidering.com/2011/best-buddhist-blogs/
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