~O tender heart, with your mosaic, root your wisdom and let it be~
In her beautiful starlit way, she came into the garage and shyly peeked her head around. Her uncertainty, her innocent curiosity, and her amazing bravery are what struck me. This beautiful young fifteen-year-old was ready to beckon the scene of her father’s death, and she was doing so with what only grace could give–moving within the humility of the unknown. Continue reading
“The spreading of ashes – the final return”
On this day, the mountains, lakes, and streams are my Universe. On this day, the sounds of the wind, rain, and even the clouds are my calling prayers in meditation. On this day, the rays of the sun glistening through the aspen are the warming presence in the lofty shadows that follow. And on this day, the prism of the double rainbow streaming across the distant valley is the omnipresence of Spirit in all things. Continue reading
~the mingled breath of wholeness – the draw of who we are~
Taking that deep breath which moves us to our place of peace and inner stillness, that is the draw of who we are. Breath is the phenomenal brilliance of our origin. It is the radiant sensation of grace that creates the beautiful glow in our existence. It is our generosity, our patience, our tolerance, and our wisdom. Breath is our compassion. It is our loving kindness. It is us. We are our breath, we are our place of peace and inner stillness. We are the draw of who we are. Continue reading
~the flashbacks from suicide loss – the sojourning nature of a waking heart~
Currently, with my wholeness journey, the inner work seems to be focused on what I call the “spot”. Fifteen months ago, it was a huge infinite abyss with no edges or borders, today it has reduced down to the “spot”. If I have a think about it, the mind tells me that there are still any number of “opportunities” in there, but it is now more defined and focused, more healed from the strategies of mending. If I place my hand over it, my heart is allowing some thaw to its protective numbness of feeling. Continue reading
~the survivorship of suicide loss-the authentic rendering of a mind in need~
It seems that at any one time, we are all at some constant fluctuating level of a mind in need. We have needs for understanding, needs for acceptance, needs to be loved, needs for companionship, needs for adjustment of who we are now which is different from who we were a moment ago. Continue reading
~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. Continue reading
~the grief of suicide loss-the lifetimes of existence, ever reaching to the hearts of many~
In those first weeks to months after his passing, the word grief became a universal descriptor. As I experienced how tangible his essence was around me–in every part of our home, in every part of my memories, in every part of my questioning–I understood that he was also a part of the existence within the existence of my life. He wasn’t going anywhere and he was absorbed into me immediately. Everything that I was absorbing, everything that I was feeling and everything that I could feel conglomerated into that descripting swirl of grief. Continue reading
~the shock of suicide loss-the new turns numb and the silence within is no longer unknown~
On that first day, in the surrounding moments of finding him–there was this inexplicable inability to comprehend. I called to him, I saw him, I touched him– There was an immediate overwhelming sensation of emotions–and then everything started to go numb. Continue reading
~day one of suicide loss-the day dawns with beautiful flowers and every moment comes anew~
Seven months and twenty-one days ago my morning quickly morphed into a whirlwind of shock and chaos, despondency and disbelief….and numbness-just numbness. In a matter of an hour I became a widow, my child lost a father, and we both experienced a loss as a result of suicide. Continue reading
The Muse of Wildflowers 