~the mending of suicide loss-kindred patterns woven in the stream of light~
My therapist assures me that I am not “crazy”. I have used this word countlessly in my therapy sessions-unable to come up with another word in context-that I feel like I am going crazy, that the situation is crazy, the total experience of grief is crazy, how could this happen-crazy, how does this sort of thing happen-crazy, the whirlwind of this journey-crazy, the spiritual experience of it all-amazingly, lovingly, painfully crazy.
I have used this word enough times that now my therapist kindly reassures me before I get to the point of using the word again. She does the same thing when I feel I should be done with the grieving part of things-telling me I am making progress, repeating to me that it has only been 2 weeks, 1 month, 3 months, 6 months since the loss…”Clare, it has not been a year…”. Over and over these gentle suggestions in the contribution that these words might ring true and resonate with my psyche-helping to release and heal, open and heal-witnessing and validating the sanctity of my soul bearing in full the vulnerabilities of the pain, truth, love, shame, trust and question. The basic mending of my soul-soul mending amidst the illusion of this life.
“the spiritual experience of it all-amazingly, lovingly, painfully crazy”
We walk this earth with encounters of others in varying degrees of relationship. Since the death, many people have entered my life and have had their own undertaking of contemplation and participation around the loss of my partner-and if realized, they now have their own common strand in relationship to suicide loss and to the ongoing remembrance to my partner through knowing and supporting me. We are each other’s mindfulness in weaving our integrated tapestry of life- kindred in the evolution that each of us will be touched by other’s life experience and on many levels become a part of the intimate journey and collaboration of healing each other to wholeness.
These are the woven strands of living. People streaming from the soulful nature of our kindred connections-the timing of entry and exit into and out of each other’s lives. The “how” in how we communicate through those interactions-piecing the pathways for deep growth and learning based on our agreements of weaving and mending the time-tested nature of interconnectedness.
“we walk this earth with encounters of others in varying degrees of relationship”
We are kindred relationships that pop into and out of our lives at set times and set pathways…with true purpose and resolve. The commitment to be in each other’s lives over and over again-taking on new roles to assist and co-create the yearnings of the souls chosen to be in communion. Those time tested strands within the tapestry of the kindred light of God. The blessings of this opportunity to be awed by the people chosen for a lifetime. The blessings to those souls and to the spoken and unspoken streams of knowing-knowing with words and knowing without words-the tapestry of life story-mending and mending the yearning for knowledge, for connection, for understanding and for love-woven strands of our mending hearts while on this earth in juncture with our streaming connections of kindred vibrations of love on the other side.
It is the ability to look into the eyes of every single person you come in contact and acknowledge and bless them for choosing to be in your life. To know the heavenly interaction of the earthly relationship. The streaming connection of God’s healing light within our woven kindred strands of connection-spoken and unspoken, conscious and unconscious-and the ongoing eternal nature of it once a soul passes over to the other side.
“we are each other’s mindfulness in weaving our integrated tapestry of life”
My partner relinquished his physical life. My strands of him now are in my knowing and sensing of him as a presence that I have known forever. We learn together our continued kindred stream of soul union-kindred strands of God’s streaming light as one knowledge-together in spirit. I am here and he is there now. Infinitely eternal and eternally infinite within the woven strands of mending memories-sorting and weaving the pieces of our patchwork together…me reasoning through his woven strands.
His woven strands… Fibers intertwined into a beautiful quilt of tapestry -a patchwork of protection blanketing the love and hope of all that he could render in a lifetime. At the most elemental level-comfort and security wrapped around a beating heart at the moment of his deepest resolve. Those woven strands having been mended and mended over and over again until there was nothing but the sentiment of his unspoken word, unspoken gratitude, unspoken comfort-and the yearning of hope that someday I would come to know what he could not say other than to die with the quilt I had made for him-pulled up and gripped tightly to his chest at the last moments of his physical life. There was no note, no letter, just the sentiment of what those mended strands meant to him-his body covered by the love of his quilt containing the woven strands I had lovingly made for him…those were his last words to me as he passed into his deep rest.