It really boils down to this:
that all life is interrelated.
We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality,
tied into a single garment of destiny.
Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.
We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality.
(Martin Luther King, Jr. (A Christmas Sermon for Peace, Dec. 24, 1967)
(I got this quote from Yoga+ Joyful Living magazine Winter 2009/10)
I have had writer’s block.
It began after a sorrow filled few months. Since last October, 2 members of the council lost their mothers. Another’s beloved father-in-law also passed away this fall; her mother had died in the spring. I have followed the journeys of these people that I love from the announcement by physicians that the death of their mothers was imminent, to the final outcome. And, I have witnessed their deepest sorrow.
One of the mothers was my good friend Pat. After her passing on Wed Oct 7th I found myself unable to write or post anything. It was not that I was bereft of ideas to write about, it was just that my heart was stuck.
During a long walk on the sunny afternoon after her funeral, when I just needed space and time for reflection, I realized that in order to get my pen flowing again I needed to write about this. I wrote other stuff but, aside from my last entry, nothing felt right. The guardian of the realm of blog posting was saying, “nope, not this one not now. Give me what you really need to write about, what is in your heart. Until you do that you’ve got nothing to say.”
It is only now that I can do so.
My experience of the workings of the world is that when someone dies a void is left. And as the universe re-organizes itself to fill the vacuum that is left behind, everything you once knew as solid is tossed into chaos: relationships, perspectives, priorities, values, sense of purpose; everything! Life can seem pointless (after all we’re all going to die) and precious all at the same time cus after all life is short …AND we are all going to die.
I write this blog for me. This is a space where I pour out my heart and thoughts. Here I can express the best that I can be, own up to the worst; turn my negativities into fodder for insight and create something positive in the process; have fun with humour; be creative; find inspiration; write of hopes, fears dreams, dreaming and intuition. It centres my mind in the power of positive thinking and the healing realms of creativity and imagination.
Friends read it on occasion. My sister-in-law and fellow council member called over a week ago now, wondering what was up - “I checked your blog and you haven’t entered anything for over month!”
“A month; has it really been more than a month?”
Actually, just checking now, it’s been over 2 months!
I tried to explain what was going on within me but found the spoken word inadequate. I couldn’t talk and organize my thoughts at the same time in a succinct, intelligible way. It’s only through reflection, writing, writing and more writing; letting the thoughts tumble onto the page that the truth, as I’ve experienced it, unfolds.
Where has the time gone? It seems like I stepped into a black hole (not a metaphor for depression, maybe a worm hole is a more appropriate term) and got spit out the other side. My own life has been busy in the process of its own re-organization – learning and offering new modalities for my clients and re-envisioning what I want to do with the new work space created as a result of ongoing renovations.
With the passing of the preceding generation I and my generation are becoming the elders of our clans and this reality changes my perception of my own future. Retirement, somewhere down the road, no longer is a theoretical slippery slope towards decline but is becoming a real possibility full of new opportunities to be explored.
What would I do if I wasn’t a wholistic health worker? Hmmm, the question brings back a conversation I had with my Dad when I was in my 20’s. He was disappointed that I hadn’t done anything with my “God-given talent” for art.
“What do I have to say? I haven’t really lived; haven’t seen anything of the world. I can draw but so can all the others in my university art classes – what made me special in high school is run of the mill here. So, maybe who knows, maybe I’ll get back into it when I’m older. Ha, when I’m retired.” I said with a laugh.
“Yah, maybe then I’ll have something to offer.”
Who knows? Maybe.
And death of course is inevitable…but until that time there is life to be lived. And on the eve of Pam and Glyn’s departure for the pura vida of Costa Rica to make happy memories with fellow council member Flo I wish them all buen viajie on this next stage of their lives.