Friday, April 22, 2011

How Then Shall I Live?


Dear WEb and Phoenix,

Those words "How then shall I live?" came to me last night after a day of intense emotional pain and distress. I feel like I am beginning to experience myself as that womyn I write about who, after Phoenix was killed, "will never be the same". I knew that was true almost immediately that night, March 19th 2010, when I collapsed to the floor, after hearing what that man did to my beloved. It was a thought/felt sense that registered deep inside and has taken a while to recognize on the surface. The last year, that deep knowing was recognizable through the immediate and constant grief and awareness of loss, being without Phoenix. Being without that Life that was Phoenix and I. Last night, I felt it register at another level as I sat with myself in this new place of pain and distress that has to do with causing pain and distress for someone I deeply love as a result of actions I have taken, words I have spoken, promises I have broken.

I remember distinctly feeling that "oh, this is me now." No, not like: oh, look how I am such a bad person now! (though I have had that voice to wrangle with!) But it was more like, "Whoa, look where I am now. I've not been here before. I don't know the way at all. I am changed. I am different. And now the affect of that is registering around me." I do not take this lightly at all. Just because I am not paralyzed by this like I've been over the last day or so, doesn't mean it's not still serious or profoundly sad and unresolved. I think writing about it is an attempt to tell myself that one level of what is happening here, what I am doing here, is an answer to that question: How then shall I live? After the loss of Phoenix, and choosing to live, there is that question of HOW shall I live.

I choose to live in ways that nurture my Wholeness. Without that, I can be of no service to anything of worth. And, I do want to be in service of Spirit in the ways that my Beingness instinctively knows. And I don't know if going towards this thing that has caused disruption in my life is THE THING, that is, THE end ANSWER. It seems to be part of an answer to the question about how shall I live because it feels like it is moving paradoxically towards Wholeness. It feels like it's moving towards saying yes to parts of me who need this next deepening step towards tending Her/Me and thusly, perhaps, greater service. And the cost of THAT...well, the cost of that risk of moving towards this thing, I pray is not more expensive than not moving.

I am not being specific in detail because I honor the wisdom of discernment. I place this on the WEb as an act of recognition of what harm I have done, what I have risked, some of why and my intent for Wholeness.
And so it is.
And so, Phoenix, this is how I am living now without you. I miss you and your devotion, especially now, but always, forever.
Me
PS...last night my student's dog died. She spoke about how the hardest thing was that B. had always been there to help her through hard things like this...and now she's gone and my student is left here to deal with this huge grief without her beloved companion. No words. None.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Returning from Phoenix

Dear Phoenix on the WEb,

I am wondering what there is to say today. I've been gone from home this last week and just now getting back to my Life here. Phoenix, it was so deeply comforting to see your name in so many places there visiting with my parents. The newspaper, t.v., signs on trucks, signs on roads, signs on stores...almost everywhere I looked your name met me. One day while in a store, that song, our song, came on and I nearly crumbled. And it was the very store later where my mom bought me a jacket that has your name across the chest. She told me, "Now you can keep him there, over your heart." It was very sweet that she understood the significance and wanted me to have that symbol. If she only knew...and maybe she knows something of our love.

Now I am back home. It was hard to leave Phoenix, harder than ever. Deep sad parts of me felt like I was leaving you. I know that's not true. I will never leave you. And...the grief believes otherwise. There is a student of mine whose dog is old and has been sick recently. She just told me about it yesterday and I've been sad for them ever since. The level of devotion that lives between them was so obvious even though I'd only seen them together once outside class. It reminds me of that tearing apart again. I would never make a good counselor for women who love their dying dogs or have lost their beloved dogs. There is nothing I can summon to say from my heart that sounds comforting. It's hell. All we can do is see if we can and want to live through it. I did. Yes, I did. And, I didn't always know I was going to, or going to want to.

I think that's all for now. I am missing you today. When my Life quiets, I feel your absence. I feel the vacancy that was once you and the life that was you and I. I don't always cry when I feel it now, but I am still aware of it. And I am aware of the Life that is still there, that I've decided to Live, that would not be Alive if I'd chosen differently. I am grateful for you and for this IT that is Alive to be Lived, however that ends up looking.

You are my beloved, Phoenix. Always.
Yours,
Me

Monday, April 4, 2011

Sometimes...

Dear WEb and Phoenix,

"Sometimes, it takes a rainy day, just to let you know, everything's going to be alright..." Chris Williamson, The Changer and The Changed

It's raining right now and I heard these lyrics in my head. I played this song today when it was sunny, no sign of rain, actually, and I felt just a moment's worth of peace.

I don't know what else to write, really. I noticed the date today: 4-4-11 and wondered if the day would be significant in some way. Cannot say for sure how. Though I have had some awareness of some possibility of why I've felt so intensely these last few days. I think I've been encountering some pre and peri-natal relational blueprinting. May sound strange, and I'm really not prepared to put the details on the Web. Suffice is to say, though, that I've realized that in being at that level of consciousness, it makes sense that I've felt a level of life or death, sink or swim, kind of anxiety. And it makes sense that I feel protective of this awareness; tis a vulnerable state to be in and to be aware of the subsequent projections onto others. To admit that to others is to admit that they have some kind of power over me, could use it to hurt me, manipulate me etc etc. To admit it to myself is humbling.

And in all of this uncovering of possibility, I can totally see how I've only really relied emotionally on my animals and a particular counselor. Everyone else is a chronic disappointment and I push them away or keep them at bay. And it even makes more sense how deeply connected I was/am to Phoenix. He was/is my Guardian in so many ways, mostly because he never left me...was totally devoted. And it makes even more sense too why the loss of him has been so devastating. And why now (after I've moved through the keyhole of a needle) that these newly formed connections with others who are not four-leggeds feel so intensely good and intensely difficult. Or at least I understand some more of other reasons why these fierce love connections are affecting me so much now.

So, I guess there is significance to this day of 4-4-11. Pairs of numbers--two are separated and two are together.
I am grateful to be in a state right now in this moment of curiosity. Though it could change at any time, and probably will, particularly in the company of others when I will probably withdraw again there to the middle of the channel, swimming and treading water.
Love,
Me
PS..I am also readying to visit my family in Phoenix in two days. Fascinating timing.

Saturday, April 2, 2011

...no matter what


My dear Phoenix on the WEb,

Thank you for that song today, our song, the song on the radio. The one you repeatedly sent to me this year when I needed to hear something from you in that shattered/fragmented place. I heard it today driving between worlds--on my way away from one towards another. I took it as a sign, a sign that reminded me of what the loss of you has asked of me: integrity to Living, fearing less because I have chosen to Stay in spite of the worst loss imaginable, and risking love. And right now I am feeling so not here nor there, borderless, in the middle of a swim across a deep channel of water, both shore lines far away and unavailable. It's just me here, me and my pounding heart.

For a long time, as long as I can remember myself, I have felt my emotions being too much for those people close to me, with few exceptions mainly who are/were counselors who I pay to tolerate these emotions, of course. It's been an unspoken criticism in relationships. It's like the proverbial white elephant. I have spent years shaming myself, quelling them when I feel the intolerance/discomfort and sometimes just shutting down. I remember a family member a long time ago one time saying to me, "You are just too Deep for me. I like things simple." This was after sharing a poem I'd written. While this person had the audacity to say what I knew others felt about me, it still went inside and hurt. This is how I've felt others respond to my emotional being. They prefer things more simple, not large like my sadness. I don't blame them really. It's taken me years to find a place of compassion for myself.

And I do have compassion when I am in the throws of my sadness. I've found through years of a counselor holding space for me there that that is the only productive way through the wide channel of water. Any other way, I feel like part of me drowns. Still, though, someone close to me today spoke the truth about what I've known from them for many years--they named the white elephant. And while I was struck with that relief thing that happens when someone says the truth, inside the shame began to choke me. I had to eventually take myself to my room, hold my arms tightly around my middle, holding myself together. I had to say the words aloud to myself: "I am the womyn I am because I know how to let myself swim through the sadness, as long as it takes. As long as it takes. As long as it takes." And...."If I didn't do that, they (those who hate this way about me) would hardly recognize this womyn that they love. Don't they see, I am the way I am because of this."

So that is true. And so is the huge anxiety in my chest that says, I'm defective. I'm a victim to my sadness. I should be...blah blah blah blah. I am weak. Oh, yes, that's a big one. My sadness and tears make me weak. I do feel weak when I am there. That is certainly true. And, it's also true that i feel stronger on the other side, most of the time. Maybe not stronger...maybe more in touch with myself.

Finally, as I've said in another letter to you, I believe that this last year has held me accountable to another way of Being in the world. I fear i will lose something that has been precious and strong and loving to me because of that...maybe that I will consequently lose more than just one thing, it may be many things could reorganize because of that. My heart pounds in my chest even louder now having written that. And my breath becomes more shallow. I have to let go of one shore in order to swim to the other, something in me says right now. There's no promise that the shore will remain the same, or that the other will not be recognizable either when i get there.

Thanks for getting this on the WEb, Phoenix. And for sending me that song as I move through the neither here nor there. Thank you for meeting me there with your proclamation of love.
Here's mine: (whispered words and gesture) no matter what.
Me