After Kenny died, my day was split into three compartments: grieving, numbing out, and distraction. The grief was intense. Had I allowed it free rein, I likely wouldn’t be here today. I needed to absorb and integrate, to feel into nothing at all, to clear out of the painful shards without actually doing anything. I …
Tag Archives: grief
If this was my last day on earth
What would I choose to do if this was my last day on earth? It’s a fetching question to play with. It’s been floating around in awareness for a couple of days now. Would I go for a walk in the woods and thrill my senses with nature? Would I take in the scents and …
Today I Grieve
Today I am grieving. Deeply. Painfully. Messily. Preciously. Not for the beloveds I’ve lost but for this world imploding about me. Maybe it’s nothing to grieve. Perhaps it was never worth the love I gave it. Maybe this country has always been the monster in the closet that everyone cowered from while smiling and pretending …
What is Heaven?
Lately everything seems unreal. I keep waiting for it all to fall apart into tiny pixels of color and light, myself included. Earth feels unreal; Heaven, or what I conceive as God (the dissolution of self) seems closer, ever closer. I still exist; I haven’t dissolved. Ready. Willing. Still here. And yet, the detachment from …