Still Here

To this day, I haven’t deleted the last text thread I had with my mom. It’s there on my phone. And tonight, without meaning to I landed on it and started reading our last words. Emotion flooded me. I miss her. And as much as I know she is happier now than she was while here, the loss sits with me daily. It’s amazing how death works. It’s the ones left behind who are hurting, not the ones who have crossed. 

I’ve been talking to her a lot lately. We were very close while she was here. I have to say, I think we are closer now. Many won’t understand that. But I believe there are those of you who will. I remember vividly the night she crossed over. I was called and told she was taken by ambulance to the hospital. It didn’t look good. I flew into action. One moment I was about to turn off the light and go to bed. The next moment I was dressed and in my Jeep driving the sixty miles to the hospital. 

What’s odd is that my family worried how I was doing during the drive. They feared my emotional state. And yet, dear reader, I have to say in complete honesty, my emotional state was calm. I was upset. Yes. But shortly after getting on the road I started talking to my mom. I sat with her. And I told her that if she really wanted to go, I was okay with that. And, I wouldn’t blame her. She had a rough life. There were nights, when we were young, when she would wake to a .357 against her temple. Life with an alcoholic. It shaped all who resided under that roof. She’d been through a lot. She was tired. And I knew that. 

As soon as I said those words, I felt her. I felt her presence inside the Jeep. And I saw her. I saw her sitting in the passenger seat just as she had been so many times before. Here body positioned exactly as it had been during our many outings over the last decade while my Jeep dutifully carried us to and fro. And in that moment, I knew she was gone. 

Those waiting for me at the hospital did not know I had that exchange with her. So they feared that if they told me she had passed I would be beside myself. What they didn’t know was that she rode with me to the hospital. My Jeep had never felt more calm. It was the most beautiful feeling. And at the same time, the most sad because I knew what that beautiful feeling meant. The most poignant form of heartbreak. Words can’t describe it. They can only offer a glimpse.

Like always, I steeled myself for the wave of emotion I knew was headed my way. The only thing that gave me strength was knowing all she was able to let go of. The uncertainty. The worry. The fear that seemed to follow her wherever she went. And as much as it absolutely gutted me letting her go; allowing her to free herself from all that troubled her trumped how I felt. 

When I drove away from the hospital, I let out a sigh that embodied every cell within my being. And I told her it was done. She filled the passenger seat once again. I felt her there. Oddly enough she might’ve been smoking a cigarette; which would’ve been so defiantly her. The very thing that led to her demise. But I felt her in a way I wasn’t able to before. No restrictions. I could tell her anything. I no longer had to worry whether she could handle the stress of what I was telling her. I could just talk. I could finally share without limitation. And share I did.

I talk to her every day. The pain of not having her here is ever present. And yet the joy of knowing she is without pain overrules that of my own. I don’t know why I’m sharing this with you, dear reader. Maybe there’s something within these words that will help you. That has always been my prayer before I let my fingers touch the keyboard; that these words be of service. Sometimes that service solely helps me. But, if perhaps, you have lost someone and feel that loss – please know they hear you. They are here. And they are finally weightless.

Sane

I Don’t Know

The way I see it, life is pretty confusing. It seems half the population act like jackasses and some pretty amazing people die too soon. I won’t lie to you, dear reader, I had a pretty crummy day. Although I can’t go into the details and intricacies, suffice it to say, I spent a large part of the afternoon driving the countryside trying to sort myself out. I arrived home no more sorted than before I left.

Oddly enough, after being completely drained, one of my dearest friends called. She needed a boost. I did what love does. I scraped my reserve tank, and gave it to her. I couldn’t help her feel better about the abrupt death of her friend; a woman about to set off on a new career helping others, including autistic children. Why she had to die in an auto accident is beyond my understanding. I know all my spiritual teachings on the topic. And I could’ve recited it to her. But it fails in the moment. None of it makes sense. 

Something must be in the air. Because there’s a whole lot of pain being felt by a whole lot of people right now. Things are being kicked up. Emotions are rising. and that which is usually buried is being brought to the surface. Some of which isn’t pretty. It’s part of the process though. The moon calls the tide in. And with an enormous pull, it draws it back out, moving everything underneath. We are more water than anything else. So it should come as no surprise the tide pulls deep within us too. Only, it doesn’t feel as lovely as waves washing over the shore. 

Perhaps its because humans have their own agenda. We tend to fight nature. Often, we push and pull and fight. And those of us not prone to fighting find ourselves driving the coast in our Jeep Wrangler. And on those days, after having shared the deepest thoughts within me to the heavens above, and after carefully examining everything, I exited my Jeep saying the most spiritually sound thing I could say. Fuck it.

And that’s okay. There are times when that is what you have to say. Now, before anyone is offended, please realize that it’s a form of release. It means letting go of one’s hold. Often it’s the weight of knowing what needs to be done that causes the grip to tighten. Responsibilities. Being the lone person standing on the front line. Being the single parent. The single caregiver. The person who gives their all, because it’s the right thing to do. The person who knows they should feel differently, grateful, fortunate, blessed, but can’t. Not yet. Not now. Today feels the way it feels.

So, this was the advice I gave my friend. I told her it’s okay to let herself off the hook. It’s okay to disagree with life. It’s okay to say, fuck it, none of this makes sense. It’s okay to get angry. It’s okay to push back. It’s okay to not feel our best, to not be our best. And in giving ourselves that permission, we are being our best.

I can’t say if any of this helped her. It surely didn’t ease her pain. But, I hope it helped her to know it’s alright to be confused. It’s legitimate to feel the pain and wonder what it all means. Because I surely don’t have the answers. And right now, I don’t need to know. I don’t need to know anything other than I’m doing my best. 

If you’re like me, a kind person living in a turbulent, often unpredictable world filled with some pretty thoughtless people, just know that it’s okay to say fuck it. It’s okay to step aside from  your normal calm, cool and collected self. Life is to be felt. Feel the pull. Feel the push. Go with it. And what it brings up, it’s bringing up with purpose. Even the tears, dear reader. Even the tears.

Nature is good that way. It’s constantly cleansing. Our job, I’m guessing, is to ride the waves. You’re doing alright. 

Sane

Hitting the Road

As we close out this current year, I’d like to propose something. You won’t like it. But I believe its one of the most important things we can do for ourselves. And in the doing of it, we align closer to All That Is. Bless those things that have been difficult. I know. I said you wouldn’t like it, dear reader. But hear me out.

It’s easy to bless those things that bring us joy. Yes, those things are there for a purpose. We learn a lot about ourselves from them. But much more is gained when we carefully look at our difficulties. Because it is that which challenges us, that often highlights what is hindering us from experiencing the very joy for which we seek. Those fears that bubble up from within us, show us what is impeding us. They reveal the obstacles that stand in our way. In the moment we loathe the obstacle. And of course we do. It sits like a monster or boulder – blocking us. Holding us back.

But what if, its appearance isn’t to stop us. Instead, its appearance is Source working to show you what’s slowing you down so that you can deal with it and then move on?

Why is it so often upon casting a dream into the Heavens its quickly followed by something that causes us to doubt its probability? Ego will quickly answer that by saying it’s because it’s reminding us that the dream will most surely never happen. It’s sparing us from getting our hopes up. But rarely is that little voice of negativity our ally. Almost always that voice is the sound piece of our fears.

What I’d like you to do with this new year is to listen less to that voice, and instead, shift your perception of the obstacles or fears or doubts that arise before you. Don’t act surprised when an unexpected bill comes in the mail shortly after you launch a desire to start that new business or to buy that land in the country where you can retire. That bill will quickly tell you the level of your faith. That bill will cause all your fears to rise to the surface. Source wants you to see those. Source wants you to know what is buried deep within you. Because what is within you, is what’s shaping your experience. And when we fail to go deep, Source brings what’s deep into the Light. Bless what you see because its being brought into the Light for a reason. And it isn’t to stop you, it’s so that you know what you’re dealing with; to see what’s been holding you back.

Look at it like this. Let’s say you desire to drive across country. You program your car for the trip. And although I don’t believe such a thing as this exists, let’s say then that the car’s internal programming reviews your trip and then displays if the car is able to make it. Instead of damming your car for not being able to hit the road at the drop of a hat, you review the read out and feel relief that it showed you that about a third of the way in the transmission will fail. It’s telling you what you need to deal with because, as is, the trip will be difficult. Or the read out shows that there’s a collapsed bridge on the road you were planning to use. Good to know. You begin to plan a different way. What if Source is showing you something similar?

Every time you launch a desire, Source works to match that desire. But that is only half the process. You have to be the match. And to be the match you have to deal with all the things within you that are not the match. Those are the things that get brought to the surface. Those are the fears that seem to drop in front of you out of the blue, and strangle your ability to breathe. Those are the doubts you have about your greatness and worth. How is Source going to bring you your life’s love if you don’t fully love yourself? Source is showing you that. How is Source going to bring the life you want if you don’t fully believe that you are worthy of receiving it? So bless those things that are being shown to you. Because they are part of the process of getting there.

I love you, dear reader. And it is my sincere prayer that with this next year we all get there.

Sane

Good Grief

I woke today missing my mother so deeply I cried. And the tears seemed to cascade into every piece within me that feels broken, abandoned and utterly exhausted. I’m not sure if a soul can suffer from exhaustion. But there are times when mine feels so tired that I’m convinced it can.

Grief has a funny way of changing one’s life. Just the thought of losing someone can unearth within us things of which we weren’t even aware. Losing someone outright, well dear reader, that offers its own path of discovery. And from what I can tell the only way to get to the other side of grief, is by grieving. I come from a long line of people who hardened themselves against expansive emotions. Either by way of pure stoic strength or numbing themselves with alcohol, we didn’t show much emotion. God forbid we admit such a thing as crying, as it surely meant we were falling apart. When, in the case of what I’m feeling today, perhaps I’m falling together.

Emotion is meant to be felt; to point to an important part within ourselves. Sometimes emotion points to bits and pieces within us that need to be gathered up and mended. Sometimes it points to gifts that were meant to be cultivated and shared with the world. Whether pointing out our fears or pointing out our joys, either way, emotions are very much like our own internal GPS system meant to navigate us along our Divine path.

Its only been four months since losing my mother. And during those months I often found myself wishing life would give me a Get Out Of Jail Free card; something I could pull out and use to remind everyone that within me rests a heart that is hurting; one where a low-level dull ache has taken up residency. And behind every emotion I feel, both the good and the not so good, rests this ache. So tread lightly. But life doesn’t seem to offer such a thing. Instead, I feel like I’m pressed to keep offering my very best, to stand in the line of fire, to tip toe onto the farthest precipices of faith – all while feeling I’m only partially as whole as I use to be.

During the times when I am able to allow grief to do what it needs to do, I’ve taken note of the emotions that have surfaced. Some are more ugly than I’d like. There has been a fair share of the why me’s? Haven’t I endured enough? All the typical self-centered utterances of ego. Then there are the emotions that sit closer to my core. The one’s where I simply feel the emptiness of never being held by my mom, again, or the flash of penetrating loss when I go to send her a text to share a moment I know she’d enjoy – but realize I can’t.

I feel tired, dear reader. I feel as though I’m being pushed beyond my limits as of late. And grieving is only adding to the push. Then the soft voice of Spirit whispers within me. Yes, I know it feels that way, dear child. And, in many ways you are right, you are being pushed. You are growing. You are expanding into a more authentic version of yourself. A version that is ever more closely aligned with me. Stay strong. Don’t give up. It will all make sense in time. But know this, my child, the grieving is allowing you to open spaces within yourself that wouldn’t be opened otherwise. And your mother is helping you to do that.

So I cry some more. Most of all, I allow myself to cry. Why it is we humans get so wrapped up in prohibiting ourselves from feeling all that we need and are intended to feel, I don’t know. But we do. So today, dear reader, if you feel any of these things that I’ve shared with you, know that you are not alone. And what Spirit said to me, it is also saying to you. Don’t resist the emotion that pushes you from deep within. It is there to help you take notice of something. We are here to grow, to expand and express and experience. Emotion is often the very thing that helps us navigate that expansion. There is a teaching voice behind every emotion. What is it saying? Either it points to what has been holding us back, or it points to what will help move us forward. So don’t smother it. Listen and explore it.

Sane

My Mother. My Safe Space.

The Young Writer, Awards Night with Mom.

I remember one time in middle school having to call home. I can’t recall my reason. Complaints of illness, perhaps. My father was in the hospital a lot during that time; his body shutting down due to his advanced alcoholism. I mustered all the courage I could find to make my way to the office to express my needs. An anxiety-inducing task for this shy, young girl, in and of itself. But the office secretary required me to call and talk to my mother, directly. As soon as I heard her voice, on the other end, I cried. There’s just something about my mother’s voice that cuts to the core of me, and exposes my heart wide.

Most likely because my soul knew that with her, I was safe. Safety can do that to a person. The ego, which so often tells us how hardened we must be due to this world, has a difficult time convincing us of the same when it comes to certain safe people.

After rushing my son to the hospital due to his brain tumor, it was my mother who again provided this safe space in my hotel room each night. Not my husband. My mother. She sat quiet while I railed against God for coming after my son. She sat quiet while I wept afterward, asking forgiveness for all the harsh words I had just spoken. Her silence wasn’t judgmental. She did one of the most giving things one can do for another, she allowed me to work through my emotions while holding me in the safe space of Love and Light.

I went through a rather hard time at the conclusion of this last year. One that pushed me not only to the edge of my physical being, but more importantly, one that made me question myself as a spiritual guide. It was she that I called. And as soon as I heard her voice I cried.

My tears have always been safe with my mother. I am so grateful for her.

Dear reader, people matter. People are one of the most significant, magical, loving ways through which Spirit works with us, and for us. I lost my mother the other night. It was unexpected. I didn’t get to say goodbye.

While racing to the hospital I spoke directly to her spirit. Oh dear reader don’t think for a second that the little girl in me didn’t want to beg her to stay. It did. But my own soul wouldn’t let me be selfish. Instead, it pushed me to operate from a place of love. So I told my mother that if she wanted to stay that the Heavens would support her. But if she wanted to go, I understood. It was okay. I wouldn’t hold it against her. Within seconds of my words entering the air around me, my mother’s presence entered my Jeep, and settle onto the passenger seat beside me. At first I felt my body resist, as if I could push against, and thus change reality. Then I softly broke, and felt her riding along next to me. I knew.

And now I find myself bouncing between the world of extremes. My physical, emotional and spiritual being wanting only to feel her dainty arms wrapped around me, once again. And the world that demands that I discuss how to handle her passing, often using terms so technical I have to remind myself they are actually talking about my mother.

When I left the hospital, the other night, I told her that I wasn’t strong enough for this, not yet. She returned to the passenger seat, cigarette in hand, as it usually was, and said, “Yes you are.” She never really did mince words. The majority of who I am agrees with her. The small child in me needs time. But the all of me sees the love, knows the love and feels the love. And the all of me is so very grateful that I was given this beautiful, feisty, little Indian scout as a mother. She pulled me through so many rough times. She held me like no other. She loved me like no other. She was like no other. I hope I blessed her life as much as she blessed mine.

Sane

Let it Grow

July Harper’s Bazaar 1953

It’s my belief that if we have been born, then within us lives specific potential and gifts, singular only to us. This potential is much like that of a seed. It enters into this experience much like a seed gets planted into the soil – to grow – and eventually bear fruit. What that fruit is, we don’t know. We aren’t shown that beforehand. And that’s a good thing.

Instead, before we ever get a chance to experience our potential, we have to first tend the seed. And to me, that is what this human experience is all about. A seed left untended, is a soul left unloved. We have to love it before ever know what will become of it.

Some people don’t even know that they have a seed; a beautiful soul that has more life within it than their physical being will ever know. Instead, they operate only from the mind. The mind never knows what’s under the soil. It only knows what it can see. Generally, this means its history. Oddly enough, when we begin our spiritual journey, when we come to understand that there is more going on than what our eyes can translate, our fear-based mind doesn’t easily step aside. No, it tries to judge and analyze the seed.

Before too long the mind thinks it has the seed all figured out, and knows exactly what to expect and what it will do with the fruit it plans to receive. “From this apple tree I will make pie. Lots of pie. And my life will be surrounded by pie.” Yet, as we continue to pull up the weeds thats roots once choked the seed, something entirely different grows. And that is the beauty of Spirit. It likes to surprise us. So, as we keep weeding and watering and doing our best to walk this spiritual journey, and once we listen less to the mind and more to the voice of our heart, we forget our preconceived beliefs. We are so busy tending to the seedling, and living from our heart, that our mind becomes a tool we use and not one that uses us.

Then it happens, after what is admittedly, a long and sometimes tedious season, we find ourselves resting under the tree that was once a seed. It is then that we notice all of the beautiful, heavy avocados pulling on its branches. And then, because our mind no longer spins with its continual cycle of verdicts, we smile. We never even imagined within us would be such a glorious thing as what we are seeing. For that matter, we never knew we loved avocados. Yet the heavens knew this about us, all along.

So as you move along in your journey, dear reader, try not to get too caught up in what you expect your future to be. Try not to get too wrapped up in what you think you are suppose to be. You will never know your true potential until you first allow the seed to grow. So relax. Trust the seed. Your mind has failed you many times. But the seed won’t. Within the seed is the energy of the Universe, and it will not let you down. It will do its job if you do yours. Your work is to allow it time to grow. And to tend to it while it does.

Sane

Flat Tires

By: H. Armstrong Roberts

If you would like to know who you really are, pay attention to who, within you, shows up during the dirtier moments in life; the ones we aren’t expecting. Because there is no greater mirror revealing one’s self than the one we hold during those unplanned, seemingly unfortunate times.

It is easy to carve out moments in our day during which we approach people with grace. More so, often we choose those people to whom we show our grace. But when one wants to take stock of their true self, notice what comes alive within you when you are caught off guard. I notice these moments within myself and I surely notice them in others. I’ve watched many a person who professes to be Godly show only ungodly behavior in the spur of the moment when cut off by a driver, a cashier makes a mistake or their child drops a valuable.

The Universe never fails to bring us an endless stream of opportunities wherein we can take note of our soul’s progress; a moment that shines a light on who lives behind the guise we often hide behind. Sometimes it is as simple as an inconsiderate shopper sent our way to crowd us while we try to pay for our items at the store. Sometimes it’s a series of unfortunate incidents that happen at the worst possible time; a flat tire, or being customer 99 while customer 59 is at the counter. And sometimes, its a person who breaks our heart or disappoints us in a way that cuts through our very being. Life offers us small opportunities as well as large.

As you turn your awareness toward the person within you revealed during these moments, I urge you not to point outward and blame an outside source for causing you to react a certain way. More events will come your way until your beliefs are shifted and you finally see the light. And once you do take responsibility for choosing to react as you do, don’t grow disheartened. Don’t penalize yourself. Instead, follow the trail of your actions until it takes you to the point of origin. Go there and sit awhile. Its liberating when we get to the heart of why we are the way we are.

Listen to your inner dialogue, dear reader. It is the precursor to your physical actions. As your awareness grows, you’ll find yourself able to choose better earlier and earlier along the reactionary process. In fact, you will find that you rarely need to react, at all.

So as you venture into this next week, pay attention to who you are – in the moment. While you go about your day listen to the running commentary within your mind. Is it commenting on what it sees in a loving way or is it casting numerous judgements. Try to shift your inner dialogue. You don’t have to like a situation to love yourself enough to respond well.

I feel better when I look upon the world favorably. I feel better when I consider the positive more than the negative. I feel better when I release myself from having to listen to the worst case scenario within my mind. I feel better when I recognize that even the worst person who enters my life does for a purpose. And sometimes that purpose is to give me the opportunity to see – who within me shows up – when they do.

Sane

Stillness

It’s an interesting journey, the journey of self discovery. As I move along, Source brings new things into my experience that cause me to shine a light upon myself in places I haven’t yet looked. Once there, I’m able to see my soul’s growth. More importantly, I’m able to see the extent that my mind has been reshaped. Am I a servant to the mind. Or is my mind a servant to my soul. These moments happen in stillness.

There was a point when my internal being was a place of chaos. Like a storm that descends upon the ocean and whips the water into a wild mix of waves, my inner being was anything but calm. Now, those waves are few and far between. More often than not my soul sits still upon the surface of my human frame and the mind that controls it.

I’ve given good thought lately to life, love, religion, human interaction and what it truly means to be one with God. This stillness within me is my church. And I take my church with me wherever I go. There are times when this truth causes me to weep with appreciation. Never are these calm, divine waters of stillness held apart from me. But there are times when it feels life, or my reaction to it, causes a separation. Instead of floating on still waters I find myself, seemingly, miles away from the very waters I hold so dear. Then I panic.

I scramble, I grow sad, I grow weary and exhausted and have nothing left to give anyone around me. It is always from upon divine waters that I write to you, dear reader. But life isn’t about seclusion to the point where we never experience adversity. Life is about keeping our inner water calm while the storms of life rage around us. Its about keeping the portal to Source clear and unobstructed. And taking that connection out and into the world.

To me stillness is God – in full. It is there that I can hear with the most clarity and see most clearly. When there I fortify. From there I can, once again, go anywhere. And I can do so carrying the stillness with me because it is active and alive within me. I can witness mankind and see it through the eyes of love. The eyes of my soul. The eyes of Source – God.

I encourage you to go and sit upon the waters of your inner being, dear reader. Don’t grow frightened if you find yourself caught in waves that push you around. Tend to the waves. Give them your love. Love heals. Love calms. In time, what was once a raging storm of waves fueled by hurt and fear will become waters of wisdom and grace.

Go there. Look at yourself with compassion. Tend to your waves. Within stillness we feel the peace of love. The love of God and Source and All That Is; love that was there all along. To feel it, we just have to get still. Storms of life come and go. But your stillness will remain.

Sane

A Fluid Life

I’ve never been one to write with a saccharin touch. Honesty has always been a component within my underwaters. And I’m quite certain it always will. My readers have come to know that if they are wanting fluffy words that sit on the tongue like cotton candy, they need not let their eyes settled onto my page. However, I don’t think the truth should bring a person down. Glib, cheery words during my most unsettling moments have never given me strength. Yet, the truth has empowered me time and time again. And the truth is, life consists of both the good and the bad. The trick is to not become those moments. Instead, let them flow. Ride it out. You are the ship, the moments are the waters. Sail through.

If you noticed you’re experiencing one of life’s more enjoyable offerings, don’t cling to it. Don’t drop anchor and demand that nothing ever change. Once you do you begin to rob it of its beauty. You begin to fear how it will be once it is gone. Just let the beauty flow through and around you. Soak it in. Breathe it in. Allow it to leave its imprint upon your emotional memory. Then let it be. If you don’t put a death hold on it, then you’ve matched the energy, and all like energy finds its way back to one another. And that emotional impression will be there for you when you most need a soft place to rest your mind. If a moment lifts your heart within your chest, it’s a gift. Be sure to say thank you. Thankfulness is a match to the divine. And the more you keep yourself matched to the divine the better life becomes.

If, on the other hand, you are nestled deep within one of life’s more unsettling moments, again, don’t become the moment. Allow your energy to remain soft. Try not to steel yourself as a way of protection. All you’re doing is becoming a vibrational match to that which you are trying hard to resist. Before you know it, everything turns cold and rough around you. Not because that is all life has to offer, but because life is working to match the energy you are emitting. Often some of our most valuable lessons come by way of difficult moments. They happen not because you failed, but because there was something key that could only be learned in that particular way. So, pay attention to them. The better you are at responding to those ugly moments, impacts greatly how often they will return.

Now, all of this may sound too simplified. I know. There are times when I am riding higher than a kite, just to notice the ground beneath me has fallen way. Life happens. All of it moves through our journey. If you are to practice anything I would advise that you practice not becoming the moment, simply allow the moment its due. Allow both the good and the bad to exist, all the while remain true to who you are. Believing that all is well is not the simplistic ways of optimistic folly. It is a state of being that has great implications on one’s life. When one’s vibrational plateau is that all is well, then when all situations arise, and they always do, life moves them along easier, softer. We are met with more experiences that match our belief, so predominantly speaking, wellness becomes our predominant experience. And the bad times are met with a centered mind and a more fortified heart. We know that it will pass and that we will be okay. In my opinion, this is a crucial knowing along one’s spiritual evolution.

Allow yourself a good deal of slack. If you notice you are not filled with joy but instead are possessing a fuck it sort of disposition, let it ride. Let it flow through you. We are spirits dwelling within these human forms that are often hindered by our mind. The mind has many glitches. Try not to get too worked up about it all. Allow yourself to flow through your emotions just like you are trying to allow life to flow through its many happenings. Fate brings us both the good and the bad, it’s all part of the material that helps our souls grow. So, again, look at what comes your way, then let it flow. A bad day will pass as quickly as the best day of your life. They are all fluid. But it’s who you are and how you respond to each that’s key. It’s in those moments that you are given the opportunity for your soul to expand, and also to set the course of what comes your way.

Sane

Broken

Last night I lost someone very special to me. Tragically, he was removed from my life by his own hand. He was a friend. He was a lover. He was a confidant. He had become part of the mosaic of my life. It was on a Sunday morning, some time ago, that without monitoring his words, he looked over the water and admitted that he was excited about his future – now that I was in it. And it was on that day, dear reader, that he took possession of my heart.

When he looked within himself he saw only limitations and broken pieces. When I looked within him I saw all he dared to see. I wasn’t afraid to look under and through the rubble. And when I did, when I raked aside all that had fallen down, I watched him come alive. But it wasn’t just the new growth that kept me. For a time, he stepped beyond his beliefs and into mine. For a time I sat next to him as we built a mosaic from all that once was broken and all that was still left whole. I loved every minute we shared holding the pieces of his inner being up to the light. God brought me into his life. The beautiful force of All That Is knew I owned a steady hand, and would reach deep. The energy of life knew that I would see beauty within his vulnerability. And I did. Oh dear reader, I enjoyed watching him shine in the light. I don’t believe he ever knew he could be viewed in such a way. I don’t think he believed he could sparkle in the light. But I knew how to hold his most fragile pieces – because I too once was broken. I know how to hold the fragments of myself and not look upon them with a critical eye. I no longer see fault or failing. Instead, I see a soul that needed to break free. And when I looked upon him I saw a soul that was shedding the past, and coming alive.

I saw beauty in my friend, even when he was at his worst. The thin vase he once was, had transformed into something that no longer sat in the corner. Instead, he was becoming the very mosaic that lined the pathway of his soul. That pathway led to life and light.  He was life and light. And it shined bright. On him. On his kids. And yes dear reader, it shined upon me.

I can’t say for certain what caused him to lose his grip. The pain of his shards cutting me, cut him. That I know. We both cut the other. But we also healed the other. Where once I fell asleep to the sound of his soft words of contentment, now there will be silence.

Thank you God for bringing this beautiful soul into my life. Thank you for causing him to boldly reach out and seek me. I loved his broken pieces as well as the whole. I wish he believed in himself, and hadn’t let go.

To my friend. You will be missed.  And I never wanted to say good-bye.

Sane