It is said that we choose our lessons before we come into our bodies for every lifetime and I wonder what it is I am supposed learn this time. Is it about self worth, trusting nature, going with the flow, unconditional love, or getting continually abused throughout 30 of my 43 years of being in this body yet standing up again and finding the humor and love in life? Existential crisis were just words to me until this past Monday when I melted down to bubbling sobs on the kitchen floor not knowing who I am, do I like me, what am I supposed to do, where am I supposed to live, what does my life look like in 3 months, 6 months, a year from now. Basically a fucking mess of unknowing. A scary place to be as I did not know any answer at all. The only thing I knew is that it is what it is, it will be what it will be, and the only thing I can do is conscious breathing through the torments of my heart, mind, and spirit.

This crisis was triggered by my thought/decision to sell our home (my wife Jill died 149 days ago from medical error) that we have lived in for 13+ years and have only been apart 2 days in that time (actually nights only). It took me six arduous days to cancel our home phone line. I saw dust balls under my kitchen cabinets as I lay there prostrate and sobbing when I considered cancelling it. Finally did it and now the sting is gone. Tomorrow a woman is coming to collect Jill’s clothes from me. They are much more useful on a body than in a closet or drawer and they are not Jill, just things that she sometimes wore and no longer does. I do not look forward to the pain and sobbing that will ensue tomorrow morning. Imagine the angst (understatement) I was in; sell our home?! Where we nurtured each other’s unconditional love in an open, honest, empathetic relationship. The decision to let our home go is all I knew and still all that I know now 6 days later. It is the same feeling as when I closed my company of 19 years this June.

No plans about anything else, not even speculation; where will I live, will I stay in Connecticut, do I want to stay in Connecticut, in the same town, do the same work, how will I make money, who do I want to be and how and where? What do I want to pursue?…. get the drift. I am not rudderless, I just don’t have a direction and that is a weird feeling, not unnerving, just weird. I am not scared or worried about anything as my worst fear has already occurred and frankly worry is all in the mind; literally. Dwelling on the past and worrying about the future are just mind games I try to not engage in. Why would I preoccupy my time with a thought about something that may or may not be or occur? Worries are illusions, they are not real, and they have no bearing on right now and right now is where I am. Besides I’ve had enough drama in my life and I am changing the channel. Time for a new show. Dunno what it is but the old one no longer fits the bill.

Where am I? On the couch, feeling anxious, calm, centered, enjoying the click of the keys on my laptop as words flow from somewhere. A jumble of senses that I revel in feeling, albeit some I’d rather have done with. I have a new word I created today; testacular (pronounced tes tacular). It is derived from the words test and spectacular. Spectacular implies amazing, beyond imagination, unbelievable, and test means….. test. My life has been a long series of spectacular tests and abuses and the only time my life was not testacular and painful is the time that Jill and I spent together human to human, body to body, and heart to heart for almost 14 years. And now that she is not in her body and the myriad of tests continue, I wonder what is my lesson. I have always known that nature is circuitous, fluid, and balanced and have always believed and surfed life’s waves; fall down, get up.

Jillie would always ask me if I believed that she would be able to be old this lifetime because she remembered, and unfortunately relived, some horrific lifetimes in which she died young for speaking her truth, her voice, her commitment to love and nature. I always told her yes, even when she would complain that she has old lady hands. What the fuck, did she know something; did she know she was going to leave her body when I brought her to the ER the second time? Why is it that Jill physically died when she had such an organic life? No caffeine, booze, smoke, nor drugs, and primarily acupuncture and holistic medicine until the western medicine ER doctor misdiagnosed her and you all know how it went from there. Jill honored her body like a temple; meditation, contemplation, and spiritual warrior strength when she would go into the dark parts of herself to bring them to the light which is something that most people on the planet do not dare to do as it requires tremendous courage, trust in nature, truth, and love. I do know that since Jill left her body I have been forced, directed, lead, whatever it is, to continue this path of being. Not her path, just a similar essence.

Just be is what I am doing. Not always what I consider doing so successfully and also not judging it as good or bad. It just is and being requires presence which necessitates the willingness to suffer through the bad so the trigger can be defused and show itself for what it is or was. Deep breath now. I do a lot of deep breaths to get through a good part of my day. Feeling whatever it is and breathing through it. A very tough workout. Self awareness takes work and that also means that not judging myself. Being aware helps me to see where my thoughts are, if I am holding my breath, and are my hands clenched, to name a few.

The other night I considered that maybe Jill left her body so I can find/be who I am. Or maybe not. Either way I do not judge it and I do not complain about her dying because I know that complaining about her dying is like complaining about gravity. And I do know that complaint is inaction and I am not one to sit idly by while there are all these waves to catch. Up, down, I will keep surfing. See you out there. Go to your destiny. Namaste