Your Meaning

Multiple posts, anecdotes and stories have a seeker climbing a mountain or crossing rushing waters to reach a sage, yogi or guru. The seeker's ever-present question: What is the meaning of life? Responses range from sincere koans to multi-layered stories to snappy retorts. The replies remain open-ended. It's up to the seeker, the reader, to find meaning.

Joseph Campbell redirects the question. Life itself is not what holds meaning. We do. We are alive to bring purpose into the world. If we look at our lives, where do we find meaning? Generally, we find it in the presence of family and friends, in relationships with people and our surroundings. When we discover ourselves seeking life's meaning, it's often because we have lost touch with one of our primary or supporting relationships. This happens in various ways, from the death of a loved one to retirement to our childhood house being razed to a child's marriage and move. We feel grief because of the loss, whether it is something we deem positive such as retirement or our child's marriage or it is something we call negative such as death or a destroyed building. We think the positive losses should not create grief, but our hearts, our spirits, don't follow the course of our shoulds. We feel the loss and we are not able to control that sensation. This does not mean we aren't happy also. We often believe grief and joy don't occupy the same space ~ but they do. They both occupy our hearts.

What Campbell brings forward is that our search for meaning is truly the search for ourselves. Who are we? What brings us joy? How do we express ourselves in the world? When we feel lost or we have lost someone or something important to us, we have difficulty answering those questions. We want the outer world ~ or the Divine ~ to define the meaning of what we are feeling. But that doesn't happen. We are the meaning. All of what we feel is important and significant. It defines us.

In this moment, how do you define your life's meaning? What are you in the midst of doing? How are you living your life? What measure do you use to determine meaning? How do you deal with grief? Can you recall a time when both grief and joy were present in your life?

Dislodging the Grief

"I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

~ Gandalf 

The Return of the King

We're one more day past the US election. There have been demonstrations in the streets of many major cities across the country. The continue tonight. So far, the demonstrations have been peaceful. Though they haven't been overwhelming in size, they have provided many ~ participating and observing ~ with an outlet for their grief.

It's nigh unto impossible to expect people not to grieve. Or to insist that they express their grief in one particular way. It's good that they are expressing it at all ~ and in a manner that remains peaceful if disrupting.

Grief shows up in several stages:

Shock/disbelief
Denial
Bargaining
Guilt
Anger
Depression
Acceptance/hope

Though we may think it's easier, we don't go through these stages in a linear fashion. Speaking with other people today, we all fluctuated through several of them in the past 48 hours. One person, still registering shock, spoke of waking up with the sense that it had all been a bad dream. Another, in the midst of denial, insisted there must be a way to demand a recount. Someone shook her head wondering if only she had been part of the calling or door-to-door campaign, the results may have been different. And on it went..... Not that any of us stayed in one place. As each person spoke, others chimed in with their stories.

I've cycled through several of those stages myself. In my own grief-bearing terms: Shock that what was thought to be a significant win one way, went so horribly wrong. Bargaining for a calmer and less phobic atmosphere. Guilt that I could have done more. Anger at people telling me how I should feel or that I should just get over it. Hope .... well, that one hasn't arrived yet for me. Maybe hope that my community will be stronger together as we move forward into these unknown waters.

How do you feel about the election? Are you in grief? Are you rejoicing? Are you sensitive to others who feel differently? What hope can you name and claim for yourself at this juncture?

All Saints' Day 2016

Sojourner Truth, Bartolomé de las Casas, Miriam, Origen, Malcolm X, Queen Elizabeth I, Iqbal Masih, & Teresa of Avila

Considering the seasonal closeness and thinness of the veils between the worlds, thoughts of the saints dancing nearby, celebrating with and in spite of us, brings a smile to my lips. In that place beside yet distinct and distant from us, there is no more separation. The saints find joy in everything. They celebrate, love, embrace, and glow with the light of their joy.

Where we find ourselves in the world, in this same moment, can be trying or frightening or enraging or sad. We are influenced by the moods, words and experiences of others as well as our own. However, the word influence comes from Latin and means into flow. We have choice of what influences us, what flow we step into. We can be in the flow of a mud-slinging election season. Or in the flow of the severe changes in our work environment. Or in the flow of the grief and death of a friend. All of these things touch our lives in their particular way. We can choose how much, how long or how deeply we want to allow ourselves to be in that flow. Don't deny the feelings. Don't wallow in them either. Learn the power of balance.

Sometimes, the immediacy of someone's words or actions or disappearance in our lives whacks us off our emotional feet. That is what being embodied humans is all about. We feel in all possible ways. It's good to feel ~ to allow the joy or sadness or grief or love to rush over us. It's also good to take perspective on those feelings, to look at the joy of the dancing saints in the icon above, and recognize ourselves in that as well.

At this season, the closeness of the saints can bring us to tears of sorrow, grief and joy all at the same time or perhaps wildly in turns. While we feel our own personal feelings around them, may we have the grace to touch into their dancing too.

What do you feel about the saints who have passed through your life? Who are they? How have they affected you? What can you do to acknowledge their presence in this season?

Tender Collapse

The recent sunshine and warmth juxtaposes with and accents the process of grief and letting go. It is not simply the passing of winter or the season of Easter, it is the encounter with death and loss that continues through it all.

Spring is about re-birth and new growth, life reasserting itself after winter's passing. Although that sounds wonderful, it is also a time of great challenge and change.

Have you watched a plant breaking through the ground? It creates a chasm all on its own. Under the surface, it's broken through the covering of the seed or bulb. Then it pushes its way through the dirt separating it from the air and sunshine. As it splits the surface, it creates a miniature mound of earth as well as the breach through which it will poke its strong yet fragile head.

We are like that when we grieve. We push toward the Light, toward the Breath. Each movement is natural yet a phenomenal struggle. We continue to act as though everything is normal and ordinary. Within us moves the same struggle, unseen, edging forward, up and out. Occasionally, in order to break through into the light, into healing, we feel the seism along the fault line within us. We have no control over it. Eventually, something small, quiet, dark bursts forth through the surface and we wail with its appearance.

When we are most fortunate, most blessed, love also appears ~ often in the guise of family and friends ~ and witnesses our tender collapse without attempting to pat the dirt back into place or dig out a larger hole. Simply witnessing. Then when we feel more whole, or not, perhaps we will be able to stand in witness of the unique tender collapse of another.

What is breaking through in you? What grief are you holding? releasing? How are you standing in witness to others' break-throughs? What else is growing in your life this Spring?

Does Fear Define Us?

I woke this morning in the midst of a dream. One of those dreams that feels real ~ that shakes you and puzzles you all at the same time.

Dream:
I was working for a young man who called me into his office to ask me if I could or would 'take care of' several employees. Remaining quiet, I listened as he proceeded to give me pointers on how to do it. Then he instructed me to escort one of them to an interview. When I left his office, two men were waiting for me. We took a golf cart to an open area with an elevator. The men asked me to accompany them down to the interview. I declined, claiming claustrophobia. Trying to shake a bad feeling about the trip, I went through a door in the huge glass walls in front of me. I found myself outside, on a hillside above a creek or river. I heard voices behind me and decided to slide down the muddy hill, in skirt and heels. As I started down the incline, I heard a loud 'POP' from the direction of the elevator ~ then another. I knew a bomb had been detonated. After reaching the water's edge, I started angling up a grassy slope almost immediately next to where I'd slid down. Assuming I'd been knocked over the edge by the bomb, several people helped me up when I arrived at the crest.

Upon waking, I checked my phone only to discover, through Facebook's Safety Check stating a friend who lives in Brussels was safe, that there had been a bombing in Brussels. More terrorist actions. More reason to fear. I only felt grief-stricken. Was this related to my dream? Was my dream related to this?

Then came the declaration of responsibility from the Islamic State ~~ and all the news items using the term terrorist attack over and over again ~~ and a candidate running for the US presidency proposing using waterboarding on any suspects.

I slowly began to understand my grief. What do we know about what happened? More now, certainly, than we did then. Yet our first reaction is fear.... "Oh, no! Not again!" And the media drives this by focusing on the terror aspect. We seem to want to frighten ourselves ~~ to take the adrenaline hit ~~ to lash out at the 'other,' no matter who that may be. What about the people who helped others through the trauma? What about the families of those who were injured or died? Why don't we first pray for them? Think of the possible bright spots? Why do we prefer the darkness and fear? Why do we focus on the injured and dead only in terms of victims? The language we use, the choice of reaction, the hope or hate we give breath to truly defines us. Which defined you?

Talking about Death

We live in a culture where the mere mention of death is taboo. Unless it's in a movie. Or The Walking Dead. Or the Grateful Dead.

Full-blown discussions are totally out of the question. Spending my entire day yesterday with 500 other people immersed in activities, discussions and presentations focused on every aspect of death was awesome.

It began with two keynote speakers. The first was Barbara Roberts, the former Governor of Oregon and advocate of Death with Dignity. She spoke briefly and passionately about her experiences as her husband Frank was dying of lung cancer. Her book Death without Denial, Grief without Apology: a Guide for Facing Death and Loss chronicles her experiences of grieving.

The second keynote was longer, given by Stephen Jenkinson, founder of the Orphan Wisdom School, a teaching and learning house in eastern Canada. As a storyteller, he related stories from his two decades of work with people dying and grieving that were chronicled in his recently published book, Die Wise: a Manifesto for Sanity and Soul. His presentation overflowed with his compassion, dedication, humor and hard truth. He expressed his views and experiences reverently and irreverently and all who listened, all 500 of us, hung on his every word.

I attended sessions for three of the four breakout times:

• the shamanic practice of meeting the soul friend who will accompany me through my death passage; 
• writing my own obituary;
• practicing mindful photography for intimate care-providers as a loved one is dying.

Friends who were there attended other breakout sessions. I didn't see any of them in mine. We met up at lunch and shared our feelings and our session titles. Everything else was too new or too tender or too long a tale.

What I recognize within my own heart and soul is that I struggle with reclaiming the D words: Death, Dying, Dead. I've spent years giving them up for the more politically correct passed over, departed this reality, is no longer with us. All of these terms prevent me from facing that the person who has died will not be returning. I will no longer see her face, hear his voice, feel her hand in mine. If I continue to think in terms that are less than final, do I allow myself to fully grieve? to embrace the memories? What also came to me through every session and encounter during the day was the tip of another iceberg: If I deny the word and the depth of its meaning, will I miss the fullness of life? Will I put off embraces, passions, experiences thinking that not only they but also those who might share them with me will always be around? How do I balance the sense of finality with the expression of joy? So much to ponder!

How do you talk about death? What's been your most recent experience? Is it different now than when you were younger? How do you feel when you hear the D words? Why? How do you respond?

The Call of Grief

Grief may be the most misunderstood of feelings. It strikes like a snake hidden in the grass. As the world begins to appear in color again, grief raises its all-suffering head. It screams, alone and out of control. It is a solitary and singular feeling.

The past two weeks, death traversed my path several times. A co-worker shared about two deaths that happened within a week of each other and another that is imminent. A friend had to put her beloved dog to sleep. Yet another school shooting tore apart a small community. After a multi-year battle, the younger brother of a friend chose to let his kidney disease take his life. I've watched for years the physical deterioration of a friend with AIDS.

I don't know how to comfort someone cocooned in grief. All I can do is reach out, touch him or her to signal "I am here for you" and allow the space or distance or closeness needed. When my own grief arises, I hope someone is around to do the same for me.

Grief is more than a feeling, stronger than any other emotion. There is an aspect of it that is intensely physical, aching and overwhelming. Its timing and rhythm are random, chaotic and entirely its own.

Despite all this, grief also draws people together. Communities care for those in grief with food, comfort and even physical assistance ~ such as cleaning house or mowing the lawn. I understand another's grief because I have tasted my own. Loss is an experience we all share. We understand its cyclical nature as well.

Have you had a recent encounter with grief? Your own? or someone else's? What effect did it have on you? What did you do about or with it? How do you care for yourself when you feel grief? Is it different if it's your own? or another's?

Grief and Gathering Strength

"Sunset" by Louie Rochon (used by permission)

When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular
and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and
frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

~ Mary Oliver, When Death Comes

Yesterday a dear sister left this world. She lived her life with gusto, aplomb and originality, much as Mary Oliver's poem suggests. Many people, many women, continue to post their memories and good-byes on Facebook. Sassy Songbird certainly left a mark in her world.

Those messages are an acknowledgement of the grief being felt, the sense of loss. That's as it should be. We live in a culture that too often tells us to 'buck up' ~ in whatever terminology used ~ and not let death get to us. We focus in terms of 'seeing the person again'  and 's/he's in a better place' and 'God must have wanted another angel.' Although each of those belief systems holds validity, we have a right, and a responsibility to ourselves and those we love, to allow the tears, to feel the sadness, to experience whatever emotions arise ~ anger, fear, melancholy, bafflement, peace, joy, any emotion ~ and to express those emotions. Not to take them out on others, but to allow our hearts and souls to feel them.

Each emotion we feel carries us on the waves of healing. Our feelings help us to gather strength from within as well as from those around us. We become more of a community when we acknowledge our feelings to each other. It bonds us together even if those feelings are different. Sharing creates the bonds of strength. It also creates our internal strength. We allow room for others. We recognize our vulnerability. We grow.

Louie Rochon's image shows that sort of strength in the beauty of nature. One petal alone would not stand. Together, even though not tightly bound, the petals are strong and beautiful. As we are, when we allow the connections, the touching.

How does grief affect you? How do you express those feelings? and with whom? How do you gather strength from your connections with others?

A Time to Mourn

From Ecclesiastes 3:1-2a,4b:
"To every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; ... a time to mourn, and a time to dance"

For several years I was privileged to attend the Women's Summer Solstice gathering and camp out. I met an incredible group of women of deep soul and spirit. Though I have not attended in recent years, my bond with these women is silk and steel. They have held me, taught me, laughed with me, cried in my arms. We have shared songs, danced in ceremony, prayed in lodge. I am immensely grateful for them.

One of my bright sisters left this world today. She was a singer, songwriter, dancer, fire tender, prayer leader, and so much more. I feel the sorrow and the tug of her passing. In this moment, it's a time to mourn.

Yet, as I think of that phrase, the opposing one echoes in my mind: a time to dance. My heart fills with the joy of her laughter and her songs. She lived life full out and was a force for gratitude and joy.

As I take time to breathe through the grief and the joy, I recognize that each woman and each man I've encountered over the years of my life has been precious, each has added something to my life that no other can. Each moment of presence with them is a gift. It is so easy to forget that there is a time for everything, including gratitude, grace and remembering. In this moment of grief, I am grateful for the grace to pause ~ and to remember.

Who has passed from your life recently? What gift did his or her passing bring you? Did you allow yourself time to mourn? and time to dance?

Passing Grief

Late last week, I learned a friend had made the choice to take his life and was no longer with us. Besides the sheer shock of loss, many questions flitted through my numbed brain. What did I miss seeing? Could I have helped? What was happening within him, around him, in his world that was so overwhelming that he saw suicide as his only response?

There was, and is, no judgment in any of those questions. No judgment of myself, of others, or of my now-absent friend. There's simply an overwhelming sadness. So many things will remain absent in my life: discussing the book he borrowed from me; talking about his latest trip 'back East'; laughing at other friends and at their jokes; listening to music together; hugging each other in greeting or farewell. My mind's eye still sees him smiling at a friend, laughing at a joke, startling at the picture of a beautiful girl, moving a chair over so I can sit next to him..... I have not yet learned how to let go. It's too soon.

How do you handle grief? How do you, as Camus says, "live to the point of tears"?