For Thor - 32 - Desert

Yesterday I was the hopeful mourner, the beautiful Bohemian bereaved one. I had drunk deeply from a cool well of peace, opened my eyes Truth and my heart to Love. Today, I am thrown forcefully back into the raging sea, the searing desert; I am wretched with grief, once again. All I can say right now is...What. The. Fuck?

I cherish the times when I can access such profound and restful peace. It's easy and delightful to slip into the Presence and sit a spell. It's like I suddenly found an air conditioned ice-cream shop in the middle of the desert. I drop into that deep purple shade, taste something fresh and sweet on my parched tongue and take shelter from the searing pain of the sun on my cracked skin. My blood cools, and I relax my jaw. I didn't realize I had been clenching my teeth for so long. 

Sixty-six days of sorrow have passed since you died, Thor. These outcroppings of hope, scattered across what's left of my inner landscape, offer only temporary respite on this terrible expedition into the unknown. They rise out of the sea of grief and invite me to catch my breath, rest my legs, bandage my bleeding feet. I breathe all the way down to the bottom of my lungs. I can look around and take stock of the surroundings and smile from my eyes. Has it changed since the last time I looked from one of these vantage points? Am I making so-called progress toward being a whole person again? The clouds scud across the sky and a hawk circles above and shoots off over the horizon.

Once I've caught my breath and filled my heart with hope and grace, the waves of sand rise under my feet. My tiny refuge is submerged and once again I am adrift on this sea of sorrow. What. The. Fuck?

Every time I think I have found some solid footing, some toehold to begin an ascent back to my life, it turns out to be quicksand. It collapses under my weight and ultimately dissolves. I keep falling.

I use these temporary respites to brake and slow my descent the bottom of the abyss of grief. This, I'm convinced, is so I don't lose my mind. I wonder if there is an end to the downward journey. I keep thinking I am there, and then grief twists inside me again pushing me further into its grip. There are times I think my ribs are going to break and my heart will explode. At some point, the depth and the pressure will push me through and into something else, someplace else. I have an idea of what that will be. I've had a glimpse and a taste of what awaits me there. It appears that I'm going to find out for real. Sorrow has not yet revealed everything to me. It has not wrung out nor stretched and pulled me enough. There is still too much 'me' to be present in that vast space. 

When not entirely consumed with the dark abyss, I am gutted and gasping for air over you, Thor. Someone told me I am doing so well, that I am so strong. They told me how impressed they were that I haven't nose-dived into a dark place that would consume my soul. I can tell you why. It's because I am searching for you, darling boy, and you are not there in the dark. Expanded into Light and in Love, you reside there in the effulgence of God, not in the dark. The thing is, that for this physical being to be immersed in the light permanently, I have to relinquish my attachment to the story of your life. This is super hard to do since I am still doing the work of reconciliation. I must reconcile you as my son and you as a light being, along with me as your mom and me as a light being. And further, I must ultimately reconcile all of what I know as manifest creation as light and love. How's that for some seriously intense work? There is still too much to do, and it's why I can't stay immersed in I Am for long.

There is a trick of contrast here, too. Feeling bliss in the refreshing shelter of an ice-cream parlor in the middle of a desert makes being thrust back out into the sweltering heat that much worse. Now I know there is a frigging ice cream parlor somewhere and all I want to do is get back to it. But today, the doors are hidden, disappeared beneath the waves of sand and rubble.  Just awakening to the peace is not enough to stay there. I have to do the work. It makes being back in the suckiest part of grief so much worse by simply having been in that sublimely sweet and peaceful place.

I see how depression can take root in this vulnerable space. The task before me is beyond daunting. Life, as I was living it, is impossible with what sorrow has revealed in my soul. So now what? What am I supposed to do when I am so tired. I'm so deeply, deeply exhausted in parts of my being that I didn't know existed. Mindfulness and self-care are critical now, and I hope that simple observation will be enough to keep the darkness at bay. I have to fend off the consuming cancers of doubt and giving up that can gain ground if I let them. Using my lifelines is important now, even more than when your death was a fresh cut on my soul.

Today is a tearful, heart aching day. Nothing is okay, but I will put on my clothes and lift my eyes up. Dad bought me some flats and flower seeds and a little free standing greenhouse. I am going to get lost in those things for a while. It's not going to be easy with the gaping maw of sadness and sorrow sucking the ground out from under me.  But the sun is shining, and that will have to be enough for today.

My God, Thor. Did we really have to do it this way?

I love you,

Mom