Dawning Realizations, Lessons in Gentleness

All along the journeys of my lifetime, there have been times when I have had a remarkable perception of exactly what just happened.  You know, that face palm thing, the holy 2x4, the dawning of a realization that shocks the system. 

The last two weeks have seen a series of those realizations hit me square between the eyes, the shoulderblades -- you get the idea.  What happens when that happens is important!  Sometimes, I act on the new realization (not always a good idea), sometimes I reflect on that new "aha" (most of the time a good idea), and sometimes -- just sometimes -- I choose to ignore the realization (never a real good idea).

When I'm waiting (oh so impatiently) for things, people, opportunities to fall into place, for the ability to "see" the next thing, if I ignore a realization of what's gone before, of what's happening now, I miss an important lesson, an opportunity to learn about myself and those around me.  However, sometimes, the realization that hits me so square between the eyes is a painful one, even perhaps a humiliating one. 

As that realization hits home -- that painful or especially humiliating one -- the lesson before me to learn is one of gentleness.  I have a very hard time with that.  Being gentle with myself, my faults (many), my failures (often) does not come naturally to me.

I have help with these lessons.  My husband and family.  My therapist.  My friends.  My faith.

My husband and family love me constantly.  Yes, they get mad at me, disappointed in me, want to get away from me and my craziness at times -- but love me, they do.  There is a wonderful safety net in that.  If I have to go hole up in the bedroom with my journal, they'll let me.  This is good.  If hugs are needed and snuggles, they're there right beside me.  I am so fortunate.

My therapist.  Need I say more?

My friends.  My friends give me grief.  Push back is the newest buzz word/phrase.  My friends push back at my self-pity, at my self-doubts, at my self-anger and frustration.  They see a "me" that's different than the one I usually experience.  Friends give me balance.

My faith?  Well, my faith sustains me.  My faith is simple.  I know I am not alone.  I am surrounded at all times and in all places and circumstances by the love of a Creating Force.  Period.  That Creating Force is a part of me, you, my family, my friends, the entire world.

In my opinion, in my faith, that Creating Force is what reveals those realizations to me in the first place.  So, it makes sense that the beautiful strength, gentle strength of that Creating Force, revealed in my family, my friends, my therapist, my faith will see me through.  It makes sense that what is revealed by that Creating Force will help me grow more and more into the soul, the spirit I am meant to be.

What a Journey -- What a Life

So, my last post had to do with pain and my dawning awareness that chronic pain takes an alarming toll on one's Spirit.  I am fortunate in that the pain has abated.  My toe apparently is not broken. I am still taking it easy with it.  No dancing for a couple more weeks to be safe.  The surgery sites on my face are healing.

These are good things, good realizations to have.  The time I've spent resting has been good for me physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  However, the time spent quietly listening to myself (self-talk as well as just thinkin') and to God has allowed some interesting thoughts to gel. 

I know I have buttons which I allow others to push.  Buttons installed a very long time ago.  Buttons which bring out fear, hopelessness, anger, distrust, disgust.  What I have noticed over the last week, however, is that I am getting better about realizing what's happening, feeling the reaction start.  Recently, I've been able to stop myself, to keep my mouth shut instead of making some asinine remark. 

There's a lot of ancient history I need to look at to even better understand why I am the way I am and how I need to go about changing, taking control of those buttons -- perhaps even uninstalling them eventually.  An especially wonderful aspect to all of this though is that in seeing my buttons, recognizing my reactionary way of dealing with them, I also am able to acknowledge my progress, acknowledge the fact that I function very well in community, in society, in my family.  I say this because when all is said and done, my survival, my current state of health and well being is fairly surprising! 

The fact of my ability to pat myself on the back, to acknowledge how well I am, is something that I've always had difficulty doing.  So from that whole "third eye" perspective thing -- I'm not worried.  Not being worried is a big thing.  I'm not fearful of what I need to look at -- a new sensibility -- a good thing.  I'm curious about myself, about where I've been and where I'm going.

We'll see.

My Lament for Wesley

Why?!  Why is the question on a lot of our hearts right now as we are reeling from the news.  Our friend and fellow-dancer Wesley Brown was shot and killed Saturday night.  It was stupid.  It was senseless.

Why?!  Our hearts are broken.  We are holding Kelly and Madeline close in our hearts, wishing for time to see them and hug them and be with them.

Why?!  Earlier this summer I wrote an article on the work of grieving; on the necessity of allowing that work to occur in us.  It is essential that we allow grief to wash over us when it comes and simply be with it.  Grief and grieving are cleansing and educational.  Mostly, grieving—especially at this point—is simply there, not to be ignored or set aside.

As an aspect of our grieving, we can allow our faith to spill over into doubt, into questioning.  Without doubt, we never get around to asking the difficult questions of God, of ourselves. 

Why?!  I find myself asking that age-old question of God: "Why, God, did you allow this to happen?  Why?!"

While in the grip of doubt, letting our anger out is cleansing.  There are safe ways of doing so, such as  journaling, praying, swinging a wiffle bat against a pillow or a sofa.  Even screaming at God!  God can take it.  I know I am angry with, of all things, Wesley's employers.  I'm angry that he had to work instead of come to Cumberland—where he would have been instead of in that store Saturday night!  I'm angry that a gang decided to retaliate in an outbreak of violence which spilled over and ended Wesley's life.

Grief and anger exist together in a tangled mess so many times.  This tangled mess could very well be the reason this "senseless" violence broke out to begin with—what were the members of this gang grieving? 

 And, yes, I am angry with God.  Very angry.  My private conversations with God over the last 48 hours have been filled with angry tears and demands to know, to understand.

Yet, as I have moved with my grief, the question has shifted.  Shifted to how.

How, God, am I to be with this?  I have faith that Wesley is in a better place right now, is resting and healing in the light of God.  Yet, his family – a young daughter and his beloved wife – are HERE without him.

How can I be of comfort and support to his family?

This is a healthy movement our souls can take in response to our grief.  Yet, even this healthy movement does not resolve the deep sadness and the ache of loss in my heart.  Only time will do so.

May the grace of God go with Wesley's family and friends through the coming days and weeks.

Grace does abound.