Sunday, September 17, 2017

The Dance of Gauze & Gaze

I feel wrapped in gauze, looking through clouds at everyone and all who tries to peer inside. The Marley-shaped hole in my heart is an obvious focus of grief, loss in the felt-sense of who I am, but I suspect the relinquishing of CFLA, the transition from a full, rich summer into the institutional-rhythms of fall, is underneath all of this too. I feel far away from myself, or others feel far away from me. There is a certain gloomy comfort that comes with this feeling. Anything that might come close to touch me cannot…which means I won’t feel the loss of it/her/them afterwards. A plausible defense mechanism, if not who I am, at root.

The stories I tell from this feeling are old ones, and not necessarily true to my realities today (unless I cannot find a way out of the gauze, I suppose). I have hesitated to even give these stories/strands voice, hesitated to write for days, because I know they are the old strains, the old whiffs of story that held me at bay for so long. I’m weary of these stories, and wish them gone. They have been in these days the domineering strands of my thoughts, however, even though I attempt to resist them each step of the way.These are not the dominant melodies of my life today. So why DO they return?

Perhaps it is worthwhile seeing them on the page after all, to release them to be seen, to befriend them once again. Can I just say, though: I am SO weary of befriending them. J

A familiar one, from nearly four years ago…being left behind, losing, being lost. Lis and I are both in the busy start-up season that autumn brings. Church, seminary, Ignatian Retreat in Daily Life, circles, family, more…each bringing its abundance as well as its energetic heaviness inside. Her husband’s church calls her into certain exchanges, interactions, as does mine. Each of these Invitations are specific to her, to me, but they DO come also with the energetic strands connected to a husband’s calling. The celebration I note in this season of flurried start-up is that fears that were SO huge years ago hardly flutter within me. They DO flutter, I can still tell, but almost as residuals: fears of being left behind, of always being second choice to the church (or something else), of losing, being lost. These flutter within me, occasionally flaring into full-blown fear, but mostly quietly fluttering. 

[First full-blown flare, Saturday after Week Two CFLA ended, Megan and Lis down by the river. Second full-blown flare, a week ago Friday when no spaces opened for even a short voice touch. The voices said: She’s lost herself; she is out of reach, cannot be reached, does not want to be reached. You are no longer necessary or desired in her life.] I cringe to see the words on the page, because I KNOW they are not true. I yearn for quiet spaces, as does she. I need to be in my own rhythms, once I find them again that is J, as does she. I yearn for my relationship with Brian to be its own private abundance, as does she with Chris. These are what I KNOW. And yet seeing and sensing the rise of family energies, the images of husband and grandchildren rise over her own self, her own wild self, the voices in me rise, sending my energies into a swirling hot mess. ‘Her time of individuation is over. She doesn’t want the tumultuous adventure of river-kayaking-worms-digging anymore. She doesn’t want to draw close to that Flame anymore. My presence in her life is fading, or needs to fade, or...' These words then ‘have me’ until I’m worn out, decide I won’t care anymore, attempt to release all attachment…

And then devotion and awareness of Lisa-Lisa rises in Her time, and I rest, I remember, I know who I am inside of me and inside of her again, trusting Lisa to do what she needs and desires for herself, weaving me in as is holy and fitting and wise. My spirit-selkie-skin remains tender, stretched and pulled by my own sensations of loss, of fear, yet it is also moistened and strengthened to remember, be Reminded. Everything needs to flow in its own rhythms, nothing can be grasped or held onto or it will die. Everything I need is right here for... words that rise in my awareness from within, not as a pushing-away from her... They really are true words...when my selkie skin is strong enough to hold all of me.

The stories around Brian are not as activated as the ones with Lisa. I fear it is because the gauze has been around us for much longer, and we’ve gotten used to it by now. But our rhythms are gentle with one another, and attentive. Honoring (for the most part) what each needs to do to grieve the loss of ‘our girl.’ My dive into the Whole30 has been a huge relief for me, if a sense of irritation for him. Fascinating to see the ripples of this simple choice become so huge in our ‘us.’ My inability to emotionally-eat, for instance—or at least much less of it than ever before—mirrors to him his own reliance on food for emotional comfort. I feel a sense of loss, a being-useless around him, as he looks to food instead of to being present with me, in his own pain. But he’s resisted holding his own deep feeling, just as I have…do…which means the food holds it instead of my having to hold it.  For now, that IS better than my holding his pain FOR him. We’ve not really learned how to each be with our own new selves (these last few years), vulnerably, in the presence of the other, without expectation that the other ‘should carry our pain’ or such an encounter ‘should be’ something in his mind or in my own. Being present with what-is has never been our inheritance, after all, though we may be eventually invited into its depths, sometime down the road. Maybe this is what we could learn now, if we stick with it, without a dog, for a while. Or maybe not…maybe a new dog would invite us into a sense of ease, to learn this new vulnerability with one another gently. Perhaps he will need this new dog to stay with his emotional self... I wonder...

The stories I would often tell myself here are mostly quiet. I don’t get triggered when Brian has to rush over to church for something like he did last night, or disappears into his cave for whatever reason. I trust he will come out when he’s ready, and I lean into the quiet that is afforded me. Unless voices about someone or something else rush in…but for the most part, I’ve learned to keep my balance amidst the energetic needs of his congregation, his job. The HUGE gift of this change can almost not be overstated. Huzzah to my Shalem journey, huzzah to Spirit’s tenacity with me, Amma’s nurturing rhythms of touch and care.

So the gauze is whatever it is, I suppose… I yearn for the spacious gifts of the Gaze, a re-opening of my tender self into the holy flow, the Oneness I’ve/we’ve been Given to know. But I yearn for it without ‘nicking’ the raw sense of loss I know and feel now. I yearn to touch and be touched, yet without ‘nicking’ the raw sense of loss I know and feel now. I yearn for the creative drive in which I feel I can give into the world, yet this raw sense of loss I know and feel now holds me at bay. It feels like this crying, whimpering part of me that cannot be left behind, yet cannot also be fully present with those I love. This tender part of me that yearns to be seen, still without getting seen. This tender part of me hoping not to be ‘nicked’ somehow, being reminded how deeply Love roots within us when we allow Her to AND how deep the hole is when a beloved leaves her body…is no longer able to be touched, held, kissed…no longer able to touch, hold, kiss me. This tender part of me feels like this image I will forever carry—Marley falling asleep, still trying to lick our hands, yet getting so sleepy…reaching out even as she was leaving…  I have been introduced to this part of me that simply desires to leave with her, to not feel this loss and separation, to finally leave behind me this being left-behind, this losing…

And yet I know an incredible life of abundance here, calling, yearning for me too…

to love deeply
to birth, nourish and nurture
to release, encourage and cheer onward
to celebrate, mourn, cherish
to re-enter the Flow with my beloveds
to create with my anam cara, in the Flow we’ve been Given
she and I, Lisa-Lisa, the mystery of double-goddess power
in One, for the world

to re-enter all of it, in my time, when time…
which will be…

the moment when it comes, again and again…



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