This is what I discovered this week: present and past tense no longer work for me; I need a new verb tense...
I awoke one morning with a feeling of heaviness around my
heart and shoulders. After a shorter asana practice, I sat
down to meditate, with the idea that I could "fix" the situation through concentration. I pushed, scratched and attempted to negotiate the feelings
away, but couldn’t shake them. After a few minutes, I decided to embrace them.
As I took the sadness in, I noticed some space around my heart and my breath
came a little easier, but it still felt labored. I set my intention to softly hold the
sadness, to look for the joy in the small spaces that day, and to expand into
any that I might find. I went about my morning and found little bits of humor here and
there, and did my best to shake off the challenging emotions. I had a conversation with one of
the most upbeat, contagiously happy people I know, and I found myself smiling.
Around 11 am I found out that a friend had passed away, and
all the sadness that I had sat with began to pour out of me. I was no longer
heavy. I was floating on a river of grief.
When I tried to communicate to people about losing my friend, I realized that the current options of verb tenses no longer worked.
My heart didn’t resonate with the idea that she no long was.
I love her still; therefore, she still exists.
How can I speak of her in the
past tense?
I spoke to someone who lost her father over 10 years ago.
She still catches herself using present tense when speaking of him. She still
reaches for the phone to talk to him. Our hearts do not know past or present.
I want a verb tense that describes the in-between state, the gray mist that fills the gap until I am ready to speak about my loved ones in the past tense.
20 years ago, my grandmother left this world. She was a big
influence on me, larger than I could possibly impart with my limited words. She
continues to meet me in my dreams. I hear her in my daughter’s voice sometimes.
How can she be gone, my heart asks my head? If I still feel her, remember her,
learn from her, is she really gone?
I still can hear my friend’s voice. See her perfectly
manicured nails. Feel her very tight hugs. I smile now, remembering when I
asked her to hug me a little less tightly because she was cracking my neck each
time. Even during her weaker days, when she was bed-ridden, she could still crack my neck! How can that strength be gone from this world? My heart tells my
brain that her strength is still here.
She still is.
She will continue to be.
The picture to the right is from my 40th birthday party celebration, a memorable day for many reasons. Karen (on the right in the picture) and I had a silly greeting that included bending forward and wagging our "tails", like how happy dogs great their beloveds. When Karen showed up to the party, we greeted each other that way, not realizing that her "tail" was pointed directly at the band, and mine was pointed directly at the audience. Once we realized what a show we gave everyone, it made us laugh even more.
How blessed I am to know someone who shows that much enthusiasm and joy in everyday life.
How blessed I am to know someone who shows that much enthusiasm and joy in everyday life.
Shows... showed...
I need a new verb tense. Something between is, continues
and was. Maybe once I find that proper term, the heaviness in my heart and head
will let up.
Still wagging for you, Karen.
Namaste.