Although I may be able to elude my sadness, I cannot escape it. It permeates my DNA and lies in wait to spring upon me like the flu which is influenza which was originally termed to mean under the influence of evil or negative spirits. I know this is not negative influence upon me but it hurts so, so much sometimes that there is no escaping it. Sometimes it feels as if I want to remove my skin and shake it out like a kitchen rug so all the trapped particles can fly away in the breeze. It’s Friday January 27th and I have
been wafting through this week. My thoughts are spongy and my conversations disingenuous. I’ve neither motivation nor drive and whatever I do is going through the (e)motions. Still make it to yoga 3x each week and still cook well for myself but it just doesn’t make it go away.
I’ve written before about testacular, a combination of test and spectacular, and the last 30 days have been a series of these. Christmas, New Years, Jill’s birthday on 01/15 and mine on 01/23 which is when this new round of fuck it set in. Spent Christmas and New Years in the mountains of North Carolina outside of Asheville at a wonderful place called Peaceful Quest Retreats. I befriended some amazing, wise, heartful people there. The owners, Millie and Bobbie, welcomed me to this special property with warmth and compassion which helped my spirit and me feel my way through the holidays. It was truly a wonderful experience that I was guided to in different ways and am thankful to have the awareness to notice these subtle nudges from spirit.
When I arrived home from PQR, that’s what they call the retreat, I brought the container of Jill (her ashes) home from my mom’s bookshelf where she had purveyed all she could. Walking into our home with her in hand I felt this wave of she’s gotta go this weekend. It felt like she no longer wanted to be contained and that I would need to release her. I know that it is only ash and bone and that her energy and spirit is okay but I also know that my spirit, for whatever reason, needed me to release her physicality. The question was how. I knew it would be in the Atlantic in Watch Hill, Rhode Island but I needed to figure out what to use to get her out into the water from shore since it was going to be 10+/- degrees and windy. First thought was biodegradable paper sandwich bags. Fill em up, fold, and that should be enough weight to get it out into the waves. Maybe add a rock in the bottom so it will sink faster. Then I remembered the conch shells we had collected throughout the years. Into one I put our wedding rings, some white sage, and her. Into all the other shells I put the rest of her. It worked out perfectly as I scoured the house for just one more shell into which I could put the remains of the remains. Found it. Done. This process took me 5 days to complete. It was heart wrenching and heart cleansing. It put me face down on the kitchen floor and sometimes had me laughing. I did not realize until that Wednesday that her birthday was the coming Sunday so it made perfect sense to do it then. She came in with a body and is going out in a shell into the Atlantic which is eternal and infinite. A perfect place to be. Truly uncontained. Immediate family went to Watch Hill, froze our asses off walking down to the beach and Of Course The Tide Was Going Out. We didn’t say much, I said a little, and all but two of us took turns tossing Jill into the ocean as far as we could throw her. I tossed some tulips into the tide and finished off the day by opening Bingo’s can of ashes into the winds (13.5 years old and was put down when Jill was in the hospital). It was a release and a relief. It felt freeing. When I returned home and entered there was a void. Not the same as before. A distinct energetic disconnect that still permeates the walls and my soul. I did a spring’ish cleaning and that’s that.
It’s interesting that I never know what will trigger an emotion and whenever something does show up I let it do its thing. I had thought that crying my way through some of the holidays and crying for Jill’s birthday stuff was the only triggers I would need to feel with for awhile. It was my 44th birthday 5 days
ago and I woke up, got out of bed, pulled a comb across my head. Sorry, The Beatles popped in for a moment. As soon as I walked into the living room I lost it. I spent my entire birthday alone (by choice) sobbing and sad. Since then I have had this sadness that lies upon me like a fogbank between two looming mountains. I know that sadness is just as okay as not sadness and when it is done, it will be done. But it sucks! Thankful for yoga to fortify my body for the deep breathing required for crying and also for centering again once the crying has ceased. I am wrung out and so tired that my lower left eyelid has a slight tic to it. Not worried but would certainly appreciate some good sleep. I still have laughter and I know that the spiritual sun will shine again but for now I need to stay aware and in truth and not in fear. Jill and I had an agreement that the one in the least fear leads. It was a wonderful way to support each other through our own growth. Now that she is not here to lead or be led it is I who is taking the helm when I am in fear. It isn’t easy to do but I look at my fear or pain and where it’s coming from. With this I gain the time to remember that we are nature, all is as it should be even if I don’t understand, and to allow peace, love, friendship, and joy to be my lead in whatever way it manifests, or doesn’t. I’m glad I got to ramble on. I needed to get this out. Live truthfully, love with vulnerability, honor your body, and follow your heart, not your mind.
One final thought is a quote by Jeff Brown “Excessive analysis perpetuates emotional paralysis. The mind is just a tool, not a place to live. Surviving by our wits comes at a price. We can’t heal our hearts from up high. We have to surrender to the body temple. It knows the path to wholeness. I have the hardest time listening to it sometimes.”