Hey grief. I haven’t had much time for you today and you’ve been pissed, I can tell, so I thought a conversation might do us good.
I’m not angry, I’m simply present and you already know that ignoring me doesn’t work.
I know. I’ve had a hard time juggling today with Steve coming home, Ada, my needs, what was on the calendar…
So what did you put first?
Ummm…the calendar, Ada…not me.
Exactly. You put yourself last and as a result, no one was happy.
I know. My heart hurts. When will my heart stop hurting?
When it’s time. And then it will hurt again. That is the human experience.
Why this? Why now? Why me?
Let’s take those one at a time.
Why this? Because you needed grief as a teacher. Because this is simply how it worked best. You have big lessons to learn and though you were heading slowly in the right direction, it was time to really move into them. Benjamin was the way.
Why now? You’ve been preparing for this for many years. You have all the tools you need to grow into yourself if you choose to use them. There is something for you to learn here and it is, simply, the right time.
Why me? Because you’ve realized the difference between special and unique. Because you have accepted – have begun to accept – ordinary. And in the ordinariness of being the only you among billions of only them’s, you are gaining the freedom to live the vision you don’t even know you have yet.
I guess that’s my biggest question. Well, two are coming to mind. What’s next and what’s the end result?
Yes. It is human to want to know that. In the same way you were given the message “All is well” even though the baby you were carrying would die, I can give you what you need to hear now. Which is simply to keep finding your voice. Dig deeper. Give me the space I need. Ada will be fine. Steve will be fine. You will shine. Trust. Trust. Trust. As for the end result, like every single person who is born into this experience you have many gifts. How you choose to polish them, use them, and share them is up to you. I am here because you need me. I am here because I too am love. You and I are one. Oneness is what you are moving toward. The teachers will appear when you need them as I have done. Honor us. Listen to us. Move through us. All is well. Remember that. Deepen, deepen, into your heart. Soften, it is cracking open, let it go. Allow the pieces to fall into place, take the step that feels right, and walk in trust.
The last few sentences brought tears to my eyes. You are a beautiful writer and person. I am honored to be able to walk with you in this sad journey. Though it is horrible we met this way, there was no choice in the matter we were “born into this experience” as you said… Thinking of you tonight.
I read this poem and thought of you. We don’t know each other, but you popped into my mind so I trust I’m the messenger and you the receiver.
This We Have Now
This we have now
is not imagination.
This is not
grief or joy.
Not a judging state,
or an elation,
or sadness.
Those come and go.
This is the presence that doesn’t.
From Essential Rumi
by Coleman Barks