Sometimes I think the greatest healings are facilitated through the acknowledgment of another persons pain. I am turned off by the new age attitude that there is something unenlightened about a person who hasn't gotten over their painful experiences by the quick fix, half-truth answers such as “It's gods will.” “Be more positive”,”You have to let go” “ You have to forgive.” “Everyone has problems,”etc.
Healing is a process and people need permission from those who love them and others who support them to take as long as they need. They need permission to feel whatever feelings they have without judgment. There isn't a time table on the human spirit or the way it processes it's experiences. It's not what happens to a person that has the greatest impact on them; it's how they perceive what happens to them. Their pain IS as great as they perceive it to be and not as others think it is. It is their world they are experiencing; not ours. The best way to alienate a person is to discount their pain when they are trying to express it. Whether they are 8 or 108, it will earn you the honest answer of,”You don't understand.”
People do not ….can not “let go” for reasons. There are reasons people can not forgive. There are reasons people do not “move on” or “get over it.” Such reasons must be honestly dealt with and not swept under the rug. Not everyone knows how to get from a painful place in their life to a state of healing. It's not as easy as clicking your ruby red slippers together and uttering some positive, happy slogan. It doesn't mean there is something wrong with them or they are less evolved because they are having a difficult time knowing how to deal with whatever they are going through. WHEN people heal something magical happens. They freely let go of things because they don't need to hold onto them any more; not because we tell them they need to let go. They freely forgive because they are now capable; not because it's something they have to do in order to heal. They suddenly become more positive because they have learned how to get through the darkness.
There are also those poor souls that never fully get over something as devastating as the death of a child or some life altering experience. A lifetime may not be long enough. Ya know what? It's ok. It's ok for them to hurt and to be down. It's ok for them to have bad days. It's ok for their hearts to break over and over. They may need to sit with that pain for a while until it passes and they are able to come back to us.
I don't think there is any greater honor than when another person pours their soul out to you and they allow you to sit with them in the silence of their grief. Many of them don't want answers as much as they desire to be witnessed by another human being. They need someone to wait with them....to be there...someone who won't turn away. I am reminded of Jesus words. "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay with me, remain here with me, watch and pray, watch and pray.”
Dark are the words of an endless night
long are the hours till comes the light
thin is the line between heaven and of hell
walk with me for I know it well.
In some families there are lines not meant to be crossed; there are moments whose existence are forbidden to be acknowledged and there are grim secrets so well hidden, that digging them up would be like unearthing your own corpse. They cause you to face realities that you would have rather not
known. It's easier to be bullied into pretending they don't exist.Yet when these secrets remain inside, it's like part of your soul is buried with them and it is always restless. That most fragile part that was desecrated, unloved and left abandoned wanders aimlessly it seems. Fearful of those who might further injure it, it hides secretly desiring to live in the safety of shadow. Roaming inside unwelcomed nightmares and old memories, it lives; until that odd moment, when something happens that brings it screaming, full force, with a benign vengeance from out of it's grave, to sit and talk with you, until once again, you bury it down deep inside.
Like others, I have tried to speak of the malevolence in my childhood; to bring the suffering into the light. The anguish remains so paralyzing at times that it makes words impossible to utter; only infinite tears and agonizing cries make their way through. Memories hurt too much; the violence runs too deep. Even though time passes, some things are impossible to forget.
My only solace, besides prayer and my closeness with nature, has been writing. I give evidence of the darkness in my own way without ever really being able to tell the story. I am careful of my words as I know society often judges someone by what has happened to them instead of by who they are. It is dehumanizing at best. What many do not realize is that some people do not want pity.
I remember reading a short poem in a forum. What spoke to me was a simple line of six words. "I suffered that I may know." I can say this path that I have been born to walk, and these things I have experienced, have helped me that "I may know." It is a two edged sword and for the most part, I have come to accept it.
It is comforting, in a way, to write these lines into the abyss as a gesture of acceptance and to honour the ghost that walks within. For that, I am thankful. The song below is how I have felt for so much of my life.
Why not me?"she asked peering through eyes heavy with age as she sat hunched over in a dilapidated wheel chair. Her fragile spine was twisted and curved like a tortise shell. Her clothes were old, worn and no longer fit anymore. Six months before she had buried her husband of many years. Six months is not enough time to grieve the death of someone you love. "I don't understand. Why couldn't it have been me?" Her soul could not grasp the question that burned upon her lips as she chanted it over and over.
She was not mourning the recent death of her husband. She was mourning the impending death and loss of her only son. Forty one years old and only five days ago he was taking care of her because she was not able to physically care for herself. He was all she had left in this world. He was all that mattered. Soon she would be swallowed up by the utter loneliness that awaited her. What a horrible fate for one of so many years. My heart felt like someone had dragged it across slithers of broken glass. I didn't know what to say. I waited for some kind of comforting answer to come, but it didn't. I took a deep breath feeling her overwhelming sorrow. I felt the pressure amplify in my throat as I held back my tears.
I look at him lying unresponsive in a bed much too small for him. Each labored breath he exhaled was laden with respiratory secretions that gurgled over his vocal cords and rattled deep within his throat. I wondered what his last conscious thoughts must have been. Had he worried about what would happen to her? Did he know about the cancer that was eating away at his throat and occluding his gut? He was not just "a patient" to me. None of them are. They are human beings with lives left to live and dreams not yet fulfilled. They have people who love them and who rarely are ready to say goodbye.
You could hear the pitch in her voice rising sharply as her syllables crackled with tears. I bent down and held her close. I could tell by her grasp that it was something she desperately needed as she broke down sobbing. "Why not me?" she kept asking. Isn't it funny how we always ask,"Why me?" until it's someone we love who suffers? Then would we gratefully take their place. If only the divine were into making deals or giving us the option of what is behind door number three. Unfortunately, it is not the order of things.
Why her son? Why this poor lady? Why good people? Why anyone? The best I can tell is that it doesn't matter how good you are or how bad you are. Life has no rules. You must deal with life on life's terms. Our bodies get old. We get sick, diseases feed off of us, accidents happen. People we love die. We are not necessarily rewarded for our good deeds by being allowed to escape our biology. It is the nature of the beast. I believe our spirituality is what helps us through troubled times; not what keeps us from them. I do not claim to have the answer. Hell, sometimes I feel like I don't even have a clue. The answer, I suppose, is irrelevant. What is relevant is that we live and love while we can before we must ask such questions. We must make our days count with those we love.
I had someone email and ask "If I'm so good then why did I..." I could feel the pain and regret pouring out of the letter. My heart went out to this person - this otherwise wonderful person who, for a moment, fell from grace. Why is that people equate their worth with their actions? I was reminded of my past and the things that I wish I had done differently. That's true for everyone. As long as your human and your feet are made of clay, your going to make mistakes. Some of us more than others. It's part of being human. In this form we are neither angels or devils, but something inbetween; something pitiful and beautiful that struggles with light and dark. Right and wrong. And on those occasions when we choose the wrong way, it doesn't mean we are less valuable or loveable. The thing I would like anyone reading this to hear is that we change. The fact that someone can feel regret means that they have changed. They are no longer that person that made that choice. None of us are who we used to be and today we are not the people we will be tomorrow. It's ok to forgive yourself and embrace that darker side of you. The side that fears, that doesn't think straight, the side that fumbles as it lies in darkness and ignorance. And if you can't embrace it, I would hope you could at least accept it. There is a quote thats says,"Embrace the animal or the beast will rage." I think when we embrace it we make room for the light to come in and heal the rage. We either move forward in the light and love or backward into darkness. Our movement comes through our choices and thank God/dess for choices because we have lots have them. They can be our stepping stones or our pitfalls but, they are not what makes us worthy of love. Today, if you will, forgive yourself if there is something you regret. Own up to it, take responsibility and acknowledge it to anyone you may have wronged. Hope for their forgiveness, but don't insist on it. Sometimes forgiveness takes time. Know you don't have to have someone's forgiveness to move forward. Be grateful if you feel regret. It let's you know your not that person anymore. But don't let regret rule your life. It, like all emotions, has it's place. And last but not least, learn from it and make a commitment to be a better human being. This is my limited understanding and my truth.
It was another night, of another week, of another month in yet another year of my hospice employment; and as always, another lesson of life and death awaited me. In a room at the far end of my hall, lay an elderly woman imminently dying. Her feeble husband kept careful watch over her. It was late and the lights were turned down so low that everything in the room was bathed in shadow. The dying, you see, are very sensitive to light.
All was quiet as he laid his head on her pillow and took her hand into his. Ever so gently, so tenderly, he brushed her gray hair away as he looked into her face. I think perhaps he looked beyond her furrowed countenance and saw their years of life together. Memories lay etched in wrinkles and strands of gray. They spoke of stories only he could recall. Even though she never offered him a response, he kept assuring her that he loved her and everything would be alright. He told me they had been married for over 50 years and for the last two years, despite his own failing health, he had been her caregiver.
What is it that makes another human being want to love you and stand by your side no matter what? For better or worse, for richer or poorer and most of all, in spite of your flaws and morning breath? What is the alchemy of undying love? I thought about these things after I left the room. No doubt it was agonizing for him to watch the rise and fall of her chest; knowing that with each breath she took, it would be one less that she had.
Exhausted, he closed his eyes and fell asleep stretched between the chair and her pillow in a painfully awkward looking contortion. It was so beautiful and precious seeing them together; and it was so pitiful at the same time. What was years together had now become hours. I mumbled a silent prayer under my breath as I quietly watched. It wasn't a prayer for her or for him. It was for myself. I wanted to experience a love like that. It was a little past 3 am, as I remember, he lay there asleep holding her hand when she quietly left him.
You must walk alone in the depths of soul. There are places within where no one can follow. You do not have to hide who you are there. You will find no one to love you or judge you. It is a place of truth where you look into the abyss of what you are. All losses, all dreams, the things that creep in the dark..the things that fly in the brilliance of eternal light..all things reside here. I feel it. Such a lonely place.
Tonight brought back the memories that her soul so often hides, In the darkest corners of her being there are memories that make her cry. People talk of breaking the silence but silence was her safe place. There she waited for better times and she prayed for better days. She was not afraid of the monsters in her closet or under her bed. It was the ones with familiar faces and hands of steel she feared instead. No dream could take her away from them though she often dreamed she could fly. Traveling to a sacred place she would go to play with angels in the sky. Dancing with them among blue flowers in the grain covered fields above with her fingers she touched heaven and among the angels she was loved.
Where are you now, my darling love, in the midst of your infinite slumber? Your soul resides in the Summerlands while you've left me alone to wander It wasn't supposed to be this way, Why did you choose to leave? In every December I think of you and a different life for me How is it Love, there where you are? So peaceful I imagine it must be As you ponder in that endless realm Do you ever dream of me?
I remember the first time I met you. Standing outside your hospital room, I barely knocked for fear of waking you from your much needed sleep. There you were sitting in bed. You stared at me with those big green eyes and a head of sparse fuzzy hair that somehow managed to escape the chemo. I introduced myself and out of politeness, I called you,”Sir.” “Could we please stop the Sir shit? It is a Saturday night, isn't it?" I was stunned by such a remark and found myself pausing to think what night it was. I wasn't sure if I should tell you it was Friday night because you acted as if you would rip my head off. What followed next was a bit abrupt. I couldn't help but laugh at the incoherent babbling that followed and with such a serious face! You were a spicy one from the start and I loved that about you. Quick witted, sarcastic, educated and a little confused. The cancer had affected your brain and on occasion you would say things that didn't make sense. You would recognize this and get frustrated. It didn't matter to me. It was the connection between us I cared most about. We both knew it was all a part of your journey.
I looked forward to seeing you every time I worked. You always gave me such a hard time with your sarcasm. After that first encounter, it was on. I gave it right back to you. Tit for tat. We would laugh and tease each other relentlessly. “Can you stay for just a minute? Just a MINUTE?” you would plead; as if I could turn down a man who offered to share his Kit Kat bars with me? I laugh even now thinking about it. You always sucked at opening up the wrappers. I miss that. I miss the nights of laughter we shared and the times when we were alone in the dead of night and you would honor me by pouring out your soul. I was so blessed to know you.
You were determined to get better. You surprised us all and for a moment I was convinced that you would be one of the lucky ones. I was so happy for you until that defining night when you asked me for something you hadn't requested in weeks. You asked for oxygen and an inhaler. My gut had a sinking feeling. I knew something wasn't right. I began my interrogation. “Do you feel short of breath? Are you, ok?” “You worry too much.” Your favorite words to me when I would make a fuss over your blankets being straight or your Sprite being cold enough. I laughed it off with you for the sake of not letting on. The other nurses in morning report blew it off. “Well, he smokes doesn't he?” “Yes but, this is DIFFERENT.”
You quickly declined after that night. When I came back, you were not assigned to me. You were very agitated and restless. Nothing you said made sense and you were paranoid of the staff. Your nurse asked me to help her with you while she gave you IV medication. The one thing I have learned is that people know intuitively when they are dying. You knew on some level you were in your final hours of life. Didn't you?
I remember holding your hand and trying to comfort you with whatever words made their way to the surface. We looked at each other and for a moment there was a connection that opened up between us. A recognition, or at least it felt that way. You kept repeating one phrase that will be with me for the rest of my life. No one I have ever taken care of has ever expressed something that had touched me so deeply in the way of gratitude. You simply said,“I will miss you. I will miss you. I will miss you.”
I later dreamed of you as I sometimes do with people who have passed away. It was a good dream.
Last night I sat at the bedside of a tiny baby girl. With one finger, I held her little hand as she laid there slowly dying. With all the tubes and lines coming out from her little body, and with death close by, she held onto life.
As I watched her breath, I thought about how this baby girl would never have the opportunity to experience life. She would never know what cotton candy tastes like or how it melts in your mouth. She would never have a boy pull her hair or a friend to keep her secrets.
She would never know the feeling of mud between her toes, the smell of her mothers cooking or the comfort of having daddy keep her safe from the monsters in the closet. She would never fail, she would never know loss and she would never fall in love. What a waste, I thought. It was then that I realised something. How many times do we waste life because we are too afraid to live it? We have these opportunities that we don't take because we let our circumstances and limiting beliefs keep us from possible futures.
I know some of you have it very hard. You want answers to why things are the way they are. You have known rejection. You have known fear. You have known loss and you have known loneliness. You have taken chances only to have your heart broken. I can't tell you why the world is as it is. I only know that we can't control what happens to us. Life is neutural. It doesn't have rules. It just is. We can however, like the little baby girl, choose to fight till our last breath. We can choose to live and love and experience life- no matter what the outcome will be.
My only wish for you is this, that you find passion and courage to live your life to it's fullest -
I hope you dance!
The trees reach out as silent witnesses always willing to listen to your troubled heart. Nature offers her ears to anyone who speaks into the omnipotant silence. There are places that wait for you. You are loved... you are wanted... you are cared for. You are not alone... you are not alone... you have never been alone.
