Twenty-Third Invitation

August Newsletter   Grief   Since the time of my mother's horrific descent and departure, I have been known to say, "Any day that a personal loss and crisis is not happening is a good day!"  The reason I word it in this way is because every day of life there is loss and crisis happening... all over the planet, for all species. Every single day and night.  Attunement to the suffering brings a sense of continual loss. But none of us can hold the suffering of the world at all times -- we would be in the fight/flight/freeze emergency alert zone non-stop. We all have armor to protect us from the overload and collapse that would happen if we didn't take breaks from being aware of global suffering. But then there is the time in one's life that is deeply impacted by personal loss and crisis. Tragedy pierces the armor and defenses fall away, not having a chance to defend in the face of such devastation. This is what has occurred for me and in my family this past month as tragedy has hit like a bomb, leaving wounded bodies and body parts lying in ash. No one will come back together again in exactly the same way and none of us will be without the deep scars of the loss of such an amazing beautiful man, Michael who I proudly called my brother since I was fourteen years old. There are no words to describe the roller coaster of feelings that I have felt and what I carry inside of myself as I witness my sister, her children, and others find their way, moment by moment, day by day. We are infants in this process of grief and there is a long long road before us as we grieve our loved one, grieve how we knew ourselves to be in the life that we shared with him and ever so slowly retrieve ourselves from the ashes, without expectation to be who we were. Rearranged, Never the Same; The Nature of Grief is the name of my book that I just finished writing and handed over to my editor less than a month before Michael's death. Little did I know that my family members would be the first to read it and that I would need to print the book for them immediately, way before it was professionally edited. When I sent it to my editor, I intended to take a break from focusing on grief. The Universe unfolded something else. Shock waves continue to hit. By being familiar with the landscape of grief, I have learned to expect the unexpected and that there is nothing linear about grief. There is no lemonade to make out of this lemon of loss, no band aide to put on the wound, no reframing that puts a ribbon around the present. But I will share that I am grateful to be part of my family and larger community of friends and kindred spirits who love us, who grieve with us, who know and love Michael, who share in this tragedy of loss, and who are stunned with the bewilderment of the mystery and the unresolvable. Unconditional love gives permission to one another to feel whatever we feel as it arises, to hold one another, to breathe through this together and reach hands out to one another. Hearts are so tender as we grieve.  There is a beauty even now in the wake of something that is so profoundly disturbing -- an interrupted life of a beautiful, powerful man who demonstrated love into action, a hero of the heart for so many, a force of presence that lives on in his children and in his bereaved beloved wife who had been by his side since 18 years of age and in a community of friends and family who remain steady in loving each other through this time. There is no doubt that life is a ride that calls for a cosmic seat belt to be on at all times. Love and Blessings...   devajoy