Feelings aren't necessarily Reality

Recently, I got a really bad flu. Actually, I will never know if it was the flu or food poisoning. At any rate, I was sicker than I can ever remember being in my life, and I am somebody who annually gets the flu shot. After being so sick all day, I began to get really worried. I knew that if I couldn't take fluids after 24 hours, I was going to need to go to the doctor. I felt so all alone. I don't think I have ever felt so alone. Now, nobody ever just comes up to my door. I live pretty far from other people and it never happens (no trick-or-treaters, no Christmas carolers, etc.) Finally, I was able to take a little water and I started to think things were going to be OK. Then, the mailman came to the door with a registered letter. The mail man has never come to the door in all the years I have lived here. I signed my name pretty much with an X since opening the door was such a challenge. Later in the day, missionaries came to the door wanting to chat. I couldn't open the door but I was sure glad to see them. What I realized later was that if I had really needed someone, they would have been there for me. I wasn't really alone at all. I could have called someone, but even if there had been no one to call, the universe sent people to check on me (that's how it seemed). Each day, I feel a little more sure that things will be OK.

He Is With Me

Last night in my dreams, my love came to me. First he called me on the phone to tell me that he was not dead. He told me that he had only pretended to be dead. I was so surprised and grateful that he was not dead that I did not get angry. As part of the dream, I had been trying to go somewhere on a plane and I could not go there. That's when I got the call from my love. I really could not understand why he would have done such a thing, but it all seemed so real to me. When I woke up, I was amazed at how real the dream had been. Finally, I fell asleep again. The dream continued on and that never happens in my dreams. In the dream, I got to hold his hand and I cried and cried. He told me that no one can hurt me. While my love was still alive, my strongest memory was of holding his hand and tracing my face with his fingers. This is a bitter sweet memory for me and last night's dream was bitter sweet as well. Soon after my love died, I had an even stronger dream. My love came to me in the dream. I was so happy to see him, but I understood that he was dead. I was quick to understand that this was not going to last so I asked him how long he was going to stay with me. He told me he would be staying for only three days. I was so happy in my dream to get three days! There is a song on the radio about having "one more day." Of course the song makes me cry when I hear it because the singer says that having one more day would only make him want one more day. So many people this week were left without one more day with the ones they love.

Forgiveness

Today the country moves on from the horrific events at the Boston Marathon. When I watched the events unfold earlier this week, I just had to go to bed. It was too much to think about. We can watch the uncle of two young men expressing his own sadness and anger about the actions of his own nephews. So many people, including their family members, seem to believe that the older brother of the two young men influenced the younger brother to these unspeakable actions. In our family, I am the youngest. If it were not for my older siblings, it is very unlikely that I would have had the happy life I have had as an adult. My sisters and my brothers were the reason I got a college education. Without them, it just would not have happened. In recent months, as I have grieved and tried to get through the loss of my love, it's my family that has surrounded me with love. I have always had my siblings to watch and understand what good things were possible in my life.
To think that one of the Boston bombers was only 19 years old is too much to believe. His life was only beginning. Yesterday, I was really hoping that the younger brother would not be killed. I know many people believe in killing killers, and I can't say that I have been a victim of a violent crime or understand how that would make me feel, but having that young man alive means there is some hope that whatever led him to these terrible actions may be changed. Yesterday, we could hear the young man's uncle demanding his nephew give himself up and seek forgiveness from all his victims. Will this young man ever receive forgiveness? I've had a difficult time dealing with my own love being taken from me and this was a natural death. I can't even imagine trying to forgive someone like this young man after everything he has done.  I can feel how powerful and destructive anger is and just how powerful and healing the love and influence of a family can be.

Rumi Poetry Manifesting Light!

At night there is no light; you cannot see color; 

Light is made manifest by darkness.

God created pain and sorrow so that happiness be made manifest by its opposite.

Hidden things, thus, are made manifest by their opposite.

Since God has no opposite, He remains hidden.

--Rumi

My Pirate Family

My sisters believe that our family is descended from pirates. Pirates! Somehow that really doesn't appeal to me. In one sense, pirates were (are) people who want to survive. You really can't blame people for wanting to survive. I think the history books tell that when ships would wreck on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, people would go down to the shore to collect whatever washed ashore. I guess this was the kin of the pirates and my kin as well. Life does go on for all of us. I feel like one of the people combing the beach for treasures. I want to find a glimmer of hope that I will ever feel happy again. The memory of being at the beach with my love so many times is amazing to me. I can remember my love telling me how his friend was with him and wanted to tell him a happy story about his afternoon. The man told my love that he had been at the beach with his wife in a restaurant looking out at a pier that spread out into the ocean. He said that it was raining and the day looked ugly. Out the window from his restaurant view he could see a man and a woman on the pier having a wonderful time in spite of the bad weather. He was then realized that the man he was watching was his friend, my love, with me in out in the rain. I always loved that story about us. That is the way our life was only a short while ago.

Old Blogs, Waking Up & Crazy Grieving

Looking back at just a few short blogs ago, I had to laugh. I wrote about wanting to feel safe and visiting a "UFO" site all in the same thought. I can laugh at that now. I am finding my way through this grief. The morning is the best part of the day. It's still as if all things are possible.
I have to believe that all things are possible. I just do. I have to believe that North Korea can be helped. The leader of North Korea is experiencing a sort of crazy grieving. It's a powerful and dangerous thing. There was news on the television that between now and the anniversary of the birth of Korea's former leader, the North Koreans might launch a missile. So his son is creating this almost memorial to his father. The world certainly is thinking about his father. If this grieving son lets go of his father, he will be letting go of much. Still, it seems that if he does not let go, he will always be miserable.
I feel pretty sure that I will be able to set down this burden of grief one day. This day it is windy outside so inside am I. The poor roses are getting pummeled by the wind. I brought some in the other day so my house was filled with roses. I have pink ones, red ones, purple ones. They smell like candy. It's still morning so I had better do something.

Yoga, Black Spiders and Out into the Desert

As you look out across the desert, in this oasis not so far from where I live, you see swaying palm trees and sand blown by the breeze. It's the desert here and it is finally Spring. You should have heard the birds yesterday. Everything is alive and singing. I got my yoga mat out of the garage and off I went to the Inn. It had been a long time since I needed my mat. What came tumbling out of my mat as I prepared for class than a large black spider. Of course everybody saw the spider. I quickly got it on my shoe and sent it home, but that was my introduction to the yoga people in 29 Palms. It wasn't their black spider but mine. Oh Spring! The class itself was divine. I rememered many of the poses I had learned from my old yoga teacher, Andrew, in Palm Springs. This teacher, Jeff, uses the Indian language to name ideas and poses. I can't remember the Indian names for cow, cat, corpse, child's, or any of the poses we practiced. I focused on my practice which was helpful. We were in this beautiful tent in the desert which was open. The sun shown on the place wear my mat was. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and I knew warmth was good for yoga practice. Tomorrow I will go further out into the desert (that seems symbolic) almost back in time. Actually, I will be headed out to the really old roads and towns of the West. I will travel through places like Amboy. I think I will be on parts of route 66. What a history that road has and what a I history I have.

Extraterrestrial Christian Easter

Oh boy Easter. This one was unique and interesting. People tell you to be open to new things and I rarely need to listen. Lately however, I have not wanted to go out. I have wanted to be safe. Yesterday I went to a place that is famous for its connection to UFO sightings (I'm not saying I believe this). The building I was in was a dome that resonates from the sounds of crystal bowls. Integratron is a place where you can take a sound "bath." I feel strange about such a personal thing, and I sat in the lotus position, but most people looked up at the ceiling on their backs. I just couldn't and the young visitor next to me looked a lot like the way I imagine Lord Krisna looking. Of course I could not lay down. No way! Across the room there was another young man who looked the way I imagine Jesus looking, maybe not so much as the Krishna guy. I was able to meditate, but the occasional tear I felt on my cheeks brought me back to beautiful wooden room (I stayed in meditation for the half-hour.
That evening I attended a cook out way out in the desert. The food was so amazing and I know that's because the guy running the barbecue was from New Orleans. Actually some of the neighbors really knew how to cook. I could tell that these neighbors had the kindest of hearts. Our hostess was the most gracious. The open windswept desert was beautiful and inspiring. What an evening out in the sands of time. I wanted the time to last. I am very grateful for these moments at this time in my life. I know that is part of healing.