At every point in the human journey we find that we have to let go in order to move forward; and letting go means dying a little. In the process we are being created anew, awakened afresh to the source of our being. Kathleen R. Fischer
I've been reading this book for the past two months called Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations For Working Through Grief. I love it because the chapters are succinct and the ideas are realistic. I don't think I have encountered any major revelations via my reading of this book, however, I have come across many realistic reminders about my grief and how to redefine my world in relationship to it.
Moving forward is what is on my mind but I am confused about what this looks like, how to go about it and what it means I am leaving behind.
As the waters continue to calm as of recent days, I am alarmingly aware of my last image of Chris. I can't shake it... I suppose I should say it's not my last image, it's the image from when I first opened the bathroom door. The puzzling thing about that image is that I see it as if the sliding glass door to the bathtub were already open however I am almost certain it wasn't. This unsure memory makes me wonder, did he open the door, was the door really closed when I walked in? It annoys me that I cannot piece together chronologically the events of that morning. At this moment I am trying to convince myself that truly it doesn't matter. However, a part of me believes if I could piece it together, I could go back and find that moment I could stop the forward progression of this fate. Of course realistically, I know it doesn't matter and I cannot.
This life is now about letting go, reevaluating myself and determining where my new journey will take me and my kids. All of these are frightening because I suppose I am terrified that I will take the wrong step or that the path I choose will injure us further.
I feel like the place I am in this journey is strangely silent. My words seem to escape me while I am wrought with introspection.
"letting go means dying a little."
ReplyDeleteThe brutal thing about this is that you are still alive while having pieces of yourself die. There seems a need for a new word regarding death...the death you speak of for yourself...isn't one leading to peace...at least not. And it is painful isn't it? I suppose it is like the phantom pain amputees feel. Despite my skepticism, I think this is the strength that people gain from religious practice. Where the death and pain is embraced as a real part of the human experience and turns us into steel...unbreakable. This was my experience growing up trying to heal from the death of things in my own life. "Born Again" takes on another, deeping meaning in this context.
Cheers friend.
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ReplyDeleteDude...I am struggling and there is no edit button at least that I can find! :P
ReplyDeleteI meant to say not leading to peace...YET!
And I meant DEEPER meaning...sheesh. It is hard to concentrate with Isla screaming at my feet.