My meditation choice today.
Instructions I've followed before.
"...Close your eyes...and try to sense within yourself the source of power from which your own breathing and life forces come. ...When you feel within yourself this source, then try to sense this power flow outward through your entire physical being, through the fingertips and toes, through the pores of your body, all directions, with yourself as center....."
So, I did
Close my eyes
And try to sense the source...
But all I see is my self as Munch's Scream
Face long, melting with anguish
Sinking into the dreaded, red-dirt hole
Where I have spent time before
Fingernails caked with dirt from scratching the walls of the hole
As I've tried to pull myself up and out without success
I melt down, down, down
Tears stream around me
Cascading down the surface of the red-dirt walls
As I am pulled deeper, no longer resisting
My heart, my gut,
So much pain and grief and loss
Pain...
Pain...
Pain...
Then I see my grief vessel
Today shaped like a vase
At the top of the vessel, instead of an opening,
Is carved a shallow bowl for burning sacred oils
In the sides of the vase, geometric shapes are carved so I can see into the vessel
Clay balls rest on the bottom, inside the vase
They have not been fired into beautiful marbles
They are drab, neglected, lifeless
I look around outside the vessel for all the parts of me that typically live here
Inside me, in my torso area, in my heart, my gut
The parts of me that tend all their various campfires
Parts of me that have come out of hiding over the past fifteen years
They too are all lifeless
Strewn on the ground in the darkness of the hole
Exhausted, without strength
It hurts
I begin to panic
I have nothing of substance to grasp
I feel confused
I scream inside
WHERE ARE THE CAMPFIRES!?!
WHY!?! WHAT IS THE POINT?!?
A gentle thought answers...
This is your source of lifeThis griefThis suffering
I don't understand!
But, within a moment
My panic is replaced with curiosity
One stick Entity arises
As he rises, for it has a masculine feel,
A flame begins to burn in the small bowl that is atop the grief vessel
What do I do with this? I ask
The Entity calmly and serenely approaches the flame
With his hands cupped
He scoops up part of the fire
It does not harm him
For this is what he was made to do
To carry this Grief fire in his palms
What are you going to do with it? I ask
He serenely walks through the dark, clear, starry night
Into which we have emerged, from the red-clay pit
I walk with him to a wilderness pond
Surrounded by trees of Laurel and Balsam and Rhododendron
NO!
Don't douse it!
I cannot just kill it!
It must be honored
Must be honored
My heart sinks at the thought of drowning the fire
I am wearied
I witness as
The Palms of Grief carefully place the flame onto a Leaf of Laurel
The leaf does not burn, because it was created to carry the Grief flame
Grief then gently places the Laurel upon the waters
And Leaf of Laurel floats with its fire like a lily upon the pond
Its flame dancing under the night sky
Reflecting into the water
It's beautiful...
Beautiful....
Grief and I observe its beauty, its tranquility
In my mind's eye I see many flames upon Leaves of Laurel and Rhododendron
Scattered upon the waters of the pond
Floating and reflecting
I feel a peace within my soul
Then all the parts of me that had been strewn with exhaustion
Begin to rise
And they begin to tend their various campfires
With joy, satisfaction, purpose
The daylight dawns
And they waltz
We waltz
This sufferingThis GriefIt is your source of LifeIts flames to burn upon the watersGiving light, reflecting beauty
But I do not understand how grief and loss and suffering are my life source...
And maybe I never will...
And that's okay...
I can honor these flames...
And we can waltz into eternity...
This fire and I....
~*~
Loss happens every day to every living creature.
It is as common as breathing.
Breath is vital for life.
What about "loss"?
~*~
