I'm a S.H.I.T.

It’s been two months since my last post! Time flies when you’ve been a S.H.I.T. – Spiritual Human in Transition. I learned of this acronym from friends who attended a Coptic ministry conference. I loved it because when we are on the spiritual path, and in energetic shifts of moving from lower vibrational ways of being (angry, upset, drama, etc.) to higher vibrational ways of being (loving, joyous, abundant, etc.), our Human Egos move into turmoil. Its turmoil is that it is no longer in control of us through fear, lack, insecurity, and doubt, and change from what’s comfortable though unproductive choices to those more productive can rock its world.

I have been a major S.H.I.T. off and on through this last year and a half; many of you know this journey, and for those who don’t, look back on posts from the last year and you’ll understand. I’ve been in this transitional space again these last two months, spiritually guided to clear clutter in my life: emotional clutter (relationships/grief), physical clutter (belongings/people), and mental clutter (choices/stinking thinking).

The one year mark of my mom’s transition from this life is this Friday, September 3. The last two months have been a vivid memory bank of emotion, imagery and heartache. These memories support my grieving and healing process. Someone commented on a June post that I will forever carry the sorrow of my mother’s death within me; that it will define me. I know I will carry the memory of my mother and her absence in my life with me, but I am not my sorrow, and I choose not to carry the energy of sorrow as a cross to bear, nor wear it as a badge. To carry such emotion within you is not healing, it is burdensome. Our Great Creator’s intention is for us to experience this lifetime in joy, love, abundance, peace and harmony. Only that part of ourselves called the Human Ego will counter against such a spiritual way, convincing us that our life, perceived through Human Ego eyes, is our burden to bear; it supports us living life as a victim. Our life’s journey is about freedom through healing, and our spiritual path is about freeing ourselves from such imprisonment of self-imposed burdens, and/or those imposed upon us by others.

I’ve also been hanging on with hope to a hopeless relationship; after finally accepting it for what it is, I decided to move on, since hanging on was getting me nowhere. Despite the heartache, I know spiritually this is the highest and best for both parties, though the emotional loss stings nonetheless.

Additionally, I’ve recently decided to face and heal a long standing flaw in my humanness that has existed since I was a teenager in high school: my addiction to food. Through these transitions of late, and through my entire life, I’ve been in an unhealthy relationship with food. Food never lets me down when I’m blue, upset, bored, lonely, happy, etc.; it’s there night and day, thick and thin; the lover (that I’ve not yet experienced in human form) that I can count on anytime, anywhere, 24/7, to be there for me. After decades of “lying to myself” and “turning a blind eye” to this hard reality, I’m facing it head on with professional help, and a humility that surrenders this addiction over to my Higher Power.

Mourning: That’s been the theme of my life this last year: the loss of a mother, what appeared to be a promising future with a romantic partner, and an emotional “lover” that has soothed me throughout the decades. Through these transitions, I’ve reached out for help and support. Our spiritual path is about healing but we can not be so arrogant to believe we can or should do it alone.

We are forever and always in choice around how we choose to move through our human experience. As humans, we will feel the sorrow, the heartache. It is what we were created to experience in the Earth plane; however, as spiritual beings in the human experience, we are created to understand and remember we are God expression, and the Spirit of God expresses not in sorrow, but in joy; not in lack or poverty, but in abundance; not in judgment but in compassion, not in chaos and upset but in peace; not in helplessness, but in personal empowerment; not in discord but in harmony.

We create our own Reality. I’ve allowed myself the human experience of grief and loss through these transitions. I choose not to accept this as my “burden” or way of being in my life, but to rise above the circumstances within it, and view it from a higher perspective; a perspective that is enlightened by the true Spirit of God, and who I Am as God expression.

What Would Buddha Do When a Loved One Dies?

I just sent the April Soaring Dove Connection newsletter that discusses the loss of a loved one and how those of us left behind are left wondering if he or she is okay and how to go on without them. If you haven’t had a chance to read it, or if you do not receive it on a regular basis, please click here. I write this blog as a follow up.

I recently acquired a wonderful book called What Would Buddha Do? An interesting take on the popular “What Would Jesus Do,” it takes the teachings of Buddha and breaks down the many areas of life, such as love, insecurity of self, doing the right thing, walking life’s path, to name but a few, expanding the teaching from a modern perspective. Ironically, I just opened this book to the section of love, and came across the question: “What would Buddha do when a loved one dies?” I wanted to share the teaching through this venue as a follow up to the April issue of Soaring Dove's eNewsletter.

“Not through weeping and grief do we obtain peace of mind. We increase misery; we harm our bodies. We become thin and pale, destroying ourselves by our own power.” Sutta Nipata 584

Buddha doesn’t intend that we as humans are not to mourn our loss through tears, for as humans, our feelings do demand expression, regardless of whether that expression brings embarrassment or tears to us or those who watch. Consider how you feel when you or another is expressing his or her grief. Are you uncomfortable because you have not fully grieved a loss? Are you embarrassed to share your feelings lest you feel vulnerable and weak? Are you in touch with your emotions about the loss or have you steeled yourself against them in order to be strong as our society demands and even expects it?

When life ends, we do need to mourn, but once we have faced and expressed our grief, we have to let it go. This is the challenging part for many of us; we want to hold on to our grief, which means that we are holding on to the one whose loss prompts the grief. After awhile, this emotionally-gripping attachment drains us and prevents the direction of our energy of love to someone or something else and/or new in our life. Grief is indeed a process, but when we hang on to it as the theme for our personal (often unconscious) agenda to unproductively hold us hostage to victimization and self-pity, we then misuse our personal power, and begin that process of self-destruction that Buddha speaks of in the above teaching.

Our letting go of our loved one and moving on with living our life does not dishonor his or her memory, for we forever remain attached to him or her in love through our hearts. In doing so, we honor all that their presence contributed in our journey during which time we mutually shared a path. They continue to live through us and our personal expression of power; sometimes this is expressed positively and/or unproductively. Regardless, when we can heal our hearts, we can begin to understand that we are always and forever One with our loved one who once served, and who continues to serve us as a teacher, even when physically absent in our life.

Happy Birthday, Mom

Today would’ve been my mom’s 70th birthday. I knew today may be touch and go for me emotionally. I met my dad and we enjoyed lunch at one of her favorite restaurants, per his suggestion. Then we went to the cemetery to pay our respects, honor her and wish her a happy birthday. And shortly, I will be attending my first grief support meeting; why? In part to know I’m not going crazy when I have these grief-filled burps of emotion, and to better understand the process and to connect with others who are also moving through it.

Do you remember the scene in movie The Princess Bride when Westley and Buttercup are moving through the Fire Swamp? During their journey, unexpected spurts of fire would burst up from the ground, out of nowhere. I’m finding that grief is like a journey through the fire swamp with unexpected hits of emotion that come quite suddenly and strongly. It is an edginess that lowers my patience, or increases my irritability and defensiveness over the silliest things. It's a power surge that drains my joy, and a geyser of emotion bubbling up and pouring forth as tears. These blindsides of grief leave me feeling off balance and out of sorts; just not myself.

In these four months following my mother’s passing, we are moving through birthdays (both my dad’s and mom’s), my parent’s anniversary, and two major holidays. These are the “big ones” I’ve heard others who have lost loved ones describe as the most challenging. Is it a blessing to go through these “big ones” so quickly and in such a short amount of time or a curse?

I choose to consider it a blessing – for me personally, it allows me to “lean into it.” “It” meaning the grief, while I have the time and space in which to adjust to the absence of my mom in my life, to heal and purge all the emotion I feel around it. Perhaps then I can move forward, cleansed and more light-hearted. I’m not naïve enough to believe that my grieving will be complete after the first four months but it is my hope that it will not nearly as intense as it has felt the last two months. Time will only tell.

I’ve been told that the first year after the loss of the loved one is the hardest. With each 3rd of the month that passes, I give thanks for one more month behind the loss, counting how many are left in that “first year.” However, I don’t think I’ll ever get over wanting to hold my mom’s hand, exchange mother-daughter hugs and kisses, pick up the phone to talk about our respective days, share confidences, and just gab for the sake of gabbing. And I guess in a way, I don’t want to get over wanting those things with my mom, for I wonder that if I do, am I shifting into having taken it all for granted? I don’t know the answer, and intuitively, I don’t think so. But I do know I feel her constantly around me; she’s visited a couple of times in my dreams, and converses with me often. So, I will adjust to just being with her in this different way, and know that whatever I need moving forward as a motherless child, I can find with the love and support of my friends and family who are mothers of their own children.

Namaste.

Anatomy of Losing A Loved One

Many of you who have been following my blog know my mom recently passed from this life on Thursday, September 3rd. A dear friend suddenly lost her dad this week, and I now know, better understand the experience she and her siblings will go through upon losing a parent. Each experience of loss is different for each of us, and depends on the kind of relationship we had with the loved one. And each of us will handle differently what transpires following the loved one’s death; but I’m sharing my personal experience of dealing with the loss in the days and weeks that have followed so that you who have not been through such a loss (blessedly!) can better understand in some small way what we who have experienced it go through. It doesn’t even begin to touch upon “living the experience” but I’m hopeful you can better appreciate why friends going through such a loss might withdraw, become non-responsive and check-out, become brooding and moody, not seem themselves and out of sorts for any given amount of time.

Upon my mom’s transition, my dad, brother and I were with her when she drew her last breaths. I have never seen someone transition, never having been present when another human being left this Earthly realm. It wasn’t what I expected; it has replayed in my mind many times, and now and again, continues to do so. It’s one of those moments etched in your memory that you will forever recall. The sound of the final gasps of breath. The gurgling of each breath. The body’s strain to take them. My mother’s face as she did so. It brings tears to my eyes to think of it, even at this writing, but I am grateful I was there to be with her, support her as she left this world into the next glorious Realm.

The week and plus days that followed was like being in a time warp, but it felt like we were on Novocain. We were all numb, and immediately after mom’s passing, there were final arrangements to attend to, which provided us with some distraction. But we also had time on our hands before we moved into the visitation and funeral service phase. In the time leading up to these events, we found distraction in the company of family members, loved ones, and DVD’s. We found comfort in the endless supply of food that people brought over. But the visitation and funeral service: I dreaded these two days for I knew it would be intense. The resentful human part of me didn’t want to do any of it. We are physically and emotionally drained from the loss. And we are not only managing our own emotions over this loss, but we are called upon during these times to support others expressions of loss, those who are also saddened. I didn’t want to hear words of encouragement and comfort that really didn’t feel helpful or comforting. We must also manage others’ discomfort with death, and their loss of their friend in mom. But in support of my father, and in honor of my mother, I resolved to open my heart and mind to the experience, releasing all human angst over to the Universe, and moved into being in every moment of the experience. I found the strength and energy from God Within to move through each moment with ease and grace.

Many people came to pay their respects to the family, and we were touched to learn just how well so many people thought of mom. I personally was touched and amazed at all who came to the visitation; people I hadn’t seen since grade school – teachers, family of childhood friends, classmates, and so many others. The days were long, but filled with the support and love of family, locally and from out of town. Sunday evening after the visitation, our house was filled with approximately 50 family members, young and old, to enjoy food and company. It made for a long tiring day but it offered relief in the form of laughter. It also helped us sleep through the night on the eve of the funeral.

The funeral service had been planned by mom prior to the deterioration of her health. One of the blessings our family enjoyed in all of this was mom getting all her ducks in a row around her affairs. This in and of itself was one of many greatest gifts she gave us before her earthly departure. Funeral arrangements and all the details had been previously made; finalizing them after her death was a formality and effortless. The funeral service she planned, down to the music and who would speak was beautiful, and we’ve received so many compliments. It was a relief to have that closure; but with one door closed, another door opens into the next phase of the loss.

The week following the funeral, we are all still slightly numb mixed with a bit of shock and awe. But we had more to do - thank you notes to those who sent flowers, contributions, etc. My brother and his wife, dad and I sat down and took care of the business. It wasn’t quite a week since mom passed but it seemed that so much taken place in such a short period of time. It seemed surreal. The one week mark hit on Thursday, and slowly, the numb feeling began to fade and the reality of mom’s absence made itself known, along the pain that accompanies the loss. I managed to distract myself much as possible through the weekend, but my façade of being “okay,” along with my intention to “move on” began cracking under the pressure of grief bubbling to the surface. One week and a day after mom’s passing, my brother and his wife returns home to Frankfort and their lives, leaving Dad and I at the house where we’d been in service of mom for two months, and for Dad, even longer. One week after burying my mom, ten days after my mom died, all emotional hell broke loose for me; I crashed and burned for two days, physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

It’s just been six weeks since mom crossed over. Two weeks after her death, I left town and headed to South Dakota and Colorado for a getaway. Several Interstates experienced my tears as I sobbed like a baby whenever I thought of my mom, saw something that reminded me of her, or I felt my mom’s presence around me. The emotion purged up uncontrollably steamrolling through me, at times. I cried even more upon my arrival to Colorado, and in the nurturing and loving arms of my spiritual family and support group. The trip was good, for it allowed me the space to process mentally, spiritually and emotionally the loss, and my life without my mom in it. Upon my return, I finally crashed physically, as all the energies of the grief manifested through a head cold, forcing me to stop, sit still, rest my body and sleep; it was the most I’d sat still since I came home in July to care for mom.

Life goes on. Each Thursday, I feel a heaviness come over my heart, for mom was Thursday’s child (born and died on Thursday). I watch a DVD and see someone losing a loved one, and in hypersensitivity, I break down in more expression of grief, thus missing several minutes of the movie. I’m feeling more myself, but then I’m touched by another’s personal loss, such as my dear friend. My heart aches with an understanding of what she’s experiencing, and her sense of responsibility she’ll feel to forge ahead as a pillar of strength for the family and the community, when you really just want to curl up in a corner and cry like a baby. And lately, I experience “what if” moments, when I wonder, what if I’d been home more often to spend more quality time with her, what if she’d met my Beloved, and what if she’d gotten to do more of the things she’d wanted to do. It’s part of the process; and I gently think the thoughts, and then gently let them go. This is the key to moving through the grief and keeping one’s sanity within it.

As for supporting those of us experiencing such a loss, just listen to us share our feelings, and acknowledge them. Don’t tell us what we need to do to get through the grief; even if you’ve been through it personally, remember we each handle our grief uniquely. Tell us you are available for us to call and talk to you, and that you’re happy to listen and share your own experiences if we want to hear them. Hold us when we are crying, tearing up, and even when we are being unreasonable and irrationally out of sorts for the situation at hand. Just a simple hand on the shoulder or back to reassure us we’re not alone in this is helpful. Be patient with us, understanding and just asking “what can I do for you?” Tell us it is okay to be sad and to cry; don’t tell us “you’ve got to move on.” When its appropriate, help us get out, keep busy with a project; there’s an appropriate time for us to wallow in the emotion, but help us move out of it by bringing over supper, a DVD and popcorn, or an art project. And ask us questions about the loved one, especially if you didn’t know him or her well. We love to talk about our loved ones we’ve lost, for it helps us stay connected to them in a different and new way; don’t think it’s too painful to bring the loved one up to us, and yes, we may even cry when we do talk about them, but that’s okay. You just need to be okay with it if we do. Know that we are in pain as we watch other family members left behind go through this loss too. Watching my dad move about this house, alone and without my mom for the first time in 45 years is heartbreaking. He relied on mom for a great deal, and he misses her presence, her company a lot. We all do. So know we are feeling empathy pain of another’s grief, which leaves us feeling helpless to our loved ones, as well as our own grief.

For me, I’m feeling more like myself, but I still need support. I have a wonderful man who catches me when I collapse under the heartache, but I also need to know what I’m feeling is normal, healthy; so I’ve found a grief support group to connect with so that I’m feeling less alone in this muck. If you are not sure how to support someone in grief, get educated. There’s a wonderful Grief Library at Owensboro’s Glenn Funeral Home’s website, www.glennfuneralhome.com, by a specialist who resides in Colorado. Or go to a grief support group with your friend; he or she will appreciate your support in this way.

I’ve never lost someone so close to me before until the passing of my mom. I’ve lost dogs, grandparents, even an uncle, but this relationship was the greatest loss I’ve experienced. I appreciate the support I’ve received; but I’m not done grieving. Just know we appreciate your love and support continuously, even if we look like we’re doing okay.