Love and Death Require it of Me

I woke this morning thinking that the reason I stay in difficult relationships is because it is the perfect practice for dying.  I'm clear that I also stay for the love.  I'm not talking about receiving love from another although that's a part of it.  I'm talking about staying in the flow of love, keeping myself in love--not "in love" with another, although that's part of it too.  But I'm intent on keeping myself in the truth of love, the reality that love is everywhere, permeates everything, whatever the circumstance and to know love in this way. But I second guess myself always.  I chastise myself over my inability to let go, to swim ashore and walk away.  But the truth is, I'm letting go constantly as I grapple with the influx of consistently mixed messages and the lack of being met, that keep me off balance.  I struggle to keep my head above water, to breath, and relax into what is.  And to realize that it's about meeting the other where they are also, and that is very tricky...meeting and being met when two people are in different places.

I see this vision of myself as being in a boat with LWINMLT, floating along on calm waters with my foot hanging over the side, dangling in the cool wetness.  I'm enjoying his company but also, I'm just enjoying life.  Enjoying his love, while being connected to the big love that permeates all of life.  The next thing I know, a storm has hit, the water is rough and I'm thrown from the boat.  I'm struggling to swim, to keep my head above the water and he doesn't even acknowledge my predicament.  He offers no hand to pull me back into the boat, he's preoccupied with something else and is looking the other way.  I'm on my own.  So I do whatever it takes to survive and get myself back into the boat.  I pull myself back in, I'm soaking wet and half drowned and then he turns toward me and offers me a towel, seemingly surprised that I was even overboard--as if I had jumped in the water of my own accord.   The next thing I know the storm has passed and the sun is shining again as we continue floating along on calm waters.

This same scenario plays out again and again in my relationship with him.  And every time I'm in the water, struggling to get back into the boat I look over at the shore and wonder if it's not more prudent to swim ashore and walk away.  Why don't I just abandon ship and let him float away...oblivious of me and my struggle?  Would he even notice, or care, that I was gone?  Why do I care for someone so much, that at times, seems to care so little about me?  But there are so many mixed messages.  There is no doubt that there is a lot of love available in that boat, when the water is calm and the sun is shining and it's so obvious that he cares. But the pain and struggle when I'm thrown overboard and his back is turned is excruciatingly painful.  I attempt, but it's so difficult, not to take these things personally.

This is my dilemma.  I know I have deep abandonment issues rooted in my father's choice to not be a part of my life.  He turned his back on me.  He ignored me.  He never offered me a helping hand.  He was unavailable.  I'm vulnerable to a man's attention in this regard.  I have a thing for unavailable men.  Men who open their hearts wide and invite me in and in the flick of a switch, become unavailable...and then available again.  The love is obviously there but something is missing.  The commitment I suppose.  I don't fall in love lightly, and when I do,  when I allow these men into my heart,  I get very attached.  At the same time, I'm a big girl and fairly emotionally mature.  I do my utmost to take responsibility for myself, feeling my emotions,  understanding the truth of my stories, and experiencing my pain.  I try my very best to not hold others responsible when I'm working through my stuff.  At the same time, human life is about connecting with others, we affect one another in big ways and love asks us, love requires us, to show up.  So to the very best of my ability, I keep showing up.  I don't swim to the shore and walk away.  Sometimes I think this is most foolish of me.  But that's my "father" in that boat.

Besides that,  my father is on the shore too.  It doesn't matter if I crawl back into the boat or swim to the shore.  My issues with abandonment will greet me wherever I go.  So I keep showing up for love.  It requires this of me.  And I know that this showing up for love, is preparing me to show up for death.

Wanting What Isn't

It's been a hard week and it's only my second day back to work.  I took four weeks off after my mother died.  I wasn't ready to go back.  I felt vulnerable facing people.  Especially with the cards and flowers waiting for me.  It made me nervous.  But I bucked up and maneuvered my way through it.  Then, when I looked at my schedule yesterday I was pleased to see the lunchtime hour was scheduled with prep and on-line counseling.  That meant I had time to go visit my mama.  Oh yeah, except she's dead.

Today I worked on a different campus and it was the same thing, facing people and a card and a gift certificate to get a plant in honor of my mother.  I appreciate these kind gestures and yet it reminds me of how tender I still am. Losing my mama made me an orphan.  And her death has triggered this deep sadness in me and it's broke open wounds that were in the process forming new skin but hadn't completely healed.

I'm really pretty much overwhelmed with sadness, loss, and grief.  I regret not spending more time with my mother when she was younger and healthier, going for walks in the park and having her tell me, just one more time, a story from her life.  I've already forgotten so much and it's difficult to bear, this forgetting.  I feel like I didn't even know her.

One of her photo albums is missing.  I thought there were only four of them but so many pictures aren't to be accounted for.  I can't stand thinking about her pictures that I can't find.  The ones I remember, and the one's I know are gone that I can't recall.  Too much loss.  I'm just really overcome.

I got a massage today after work.  I started crying as soon as I laid down on her mat.  More tears came the moment she touched me.  It's so much to let go of.  I know that this holding on is what is making it hurt so much but I just can't seem to let go.  I don't know how to accept all this loss, to want what is.  I'm attempting to give all this sadness a sacred space without allowing it to devour me.  It feels so all encompassing.  Trying to keep it moving through me and not get stuck in my body and stagnate.  Trying not to be too angry and depressed for wanting what isn't there for me.

The Year of Death

I hereby proclaim 2011 The Year of Death.  The Grim Reaper has struck again.

I friend just told me that she has lost 25 friends and family members this year.  It's only August.  I haven't counted how many in my life have gone in the last 7 1/2 months.

Today, an 80 year old friend of a friend found her 24 year old grandson dead in the bathroom.  He had fallen and hit his head.  Besides my friend, he was the only person she really had in her life who was there for her.  Twenty-four years old.  A young promising life.  That's the age of my youngest son.  Can you imagine?

My 14 year old kitty might be dying.  She's lost half of her body weight...I'm feeding her extra well and giving her kitty supplements but...

I've mentioned all the other death, dying, grief, letting go issues that I currently have going on in my life.  Death is definitely my Rite of Passage this year, and the theme of Burning Man 2011.  It will most definitely be my ritual focus.

Fuck you death.  I never thought I feared you before.  You got a grip on me.  I bow to your power.  All hail the Grim Reaper.  Scary bastard.

I Dreamed My Mama Died

It was almost like an assisted euthanasia.  It was time for her to go.  We were in water, a large pool like area in a creek.  But the water was low and I was allowing it to fill up like in a bath tub or swimming pool until it would take her under and I would let her die.  And I was going to stay with her and hold her hand as she went under the water and drowned.

But all of a sudden the water was deep and had taken her when my back was turned and I wasn't holding her and she was gone.  And the water was rough and murky and I couldn't see under the surface and I was walking around, reaching down in the water with my hands searching for her but not whole heartedly because  I was afraid to find her, floating underwater dead.  But then I stepped down, into another pool of water on a lower level and the water was clear there.  It was like another room in a house and I saw her lying there under the water, convulsing and bleeding in this spot on the gravel floor, almost as if she was lying in front of the hearth in a living room--a sacrifice on the altar of her watery grave.

The sight of her scared me at first, seeing her moving, struggling, still alive with her blood swirling in the water above her head like a spiraling halo.   I turned and slipped back behind a corner so I wouldn't have to witness her death, but then immediately returned and went to her.  I couldn't let her die alone.  I leaned down and took her hand and she flinched  like I had hurt her, being too rough as I tried to crawl between her and the hearth and lie next to her.  It's not so easy, trying to lie on the rocky bottom of a creek, underwater, holding on to someone as they die.

But I managed to situate myself,  and I held her hands and she looked at me.  Our eyes met and I told her "I found you mama, I am here." It's not easy to speak underwater.  I took her head in my hands and kissed her as she died.  My mama died.

I woke up from the dream and gasped as I realized how intense it was.  I told my husband that I dreamed my mother died and that I was with her.  I wondered if she had really died and had come to me, to say goodbye and I sat up to look at the time.  The clock said 2:07.  I wondered if the call from her assisted care home would come soon, when one of her caregivers went in to check on her and found her there in bed, dead.  I hoped not.  I knew the call could still could be coming.  It will come eventually.  Or maybe I will be with her when she dies.  I hope I will be with her.  I pray that I will be with her.  I need to be there for my mama when she dies.

I kept going over the dream, reliving it in my mind, over and over, trying to remember every nuance.  I didn't want to forget a thing. I decided to write it out so I wouldn't forget it.  I opened my computer and saw my youngest son on face book.  Two-thirty in the morning and there he was.  I told him about my dream and he was glad it was only a dream.  Only a dream.  For now.

Unexpected Death

I've been contemplating death all day. Strange that my last post was about preparing for death. I wrote that post the day of the night that Lars Logan died.

I really didn't even know Lars but he was a prominent figure in the local theatre scene and I had seen him in many plays. We would smile in recognition and say hello to each other when we crossed paths around town. I liked his energy. The last time I saw him was one week before he died, in the local production of Times Square Angel. Lars is third from the left in the picture of the cast from this Rogue Theatre production that was showing at the 1078 Gallery.

What's weird is that besides writing about preparing for death (my death) on Saturday, on Sunday I was thinking about Lars. I got on facebook and found his profile and looked at all his pictures and all of his friends. I was really drawn to him that day. On Sunday evening one of my friends posted on facebook that he had died.


I don't know the particulars of his death but what I've heard is that he didn't show up for closing night so after the show some of his friends went looking for him and found him at home, in bed, dead.


I feel sad and oddly connected to this beautiful young man. I feel sorry for his family and friends who I'm sure must be in shock and mourning deeply. I feel a lot of love and appreciation for human connection.

Life and Death--Rumi
look at love how it tangles with the one fallen in love
look at spirit how it fuses with earth giving it new life
why are you so
busy with this or that or good or bad
pay attention to how things blend
why talk about all the known and the unknown
see how the unknown merges
into the known
why think separately of this life and the next
when one
is born from the last
look at your heart and tongue one feels but deaf and
dumb
the other speaks in words and signs
look at water and fire earth
and wind
enemies and friends all at once
the wolf and the lamb the lion
and the deer
far away yet together
look at the unity of this spring and
winter
manifested in the equinox
you too must mingle my friends
since the earth and the sky are mingled just for you and me
be like
sugarcane sweet yet silent
don't get mixed up with bitter words
my
beloved grows right out of my own heart
how much more union can there be
come on sweet heart let's adore one another
before there is no more of
you and me
a mirror tells the truth
look at your grim face brighten up
and cast away your bitter smile
a generous friend gives life for a friend
let's rise above this animalistic behavior and be kind to one another
spite darkens friendships
why not cast away malice from our heart
once you think of me dead and gone
you will make up with me
you will
miss me
you may even adore me
why be a worshiper of the dead
think
of me as a goner
come and make up now

Preparing For Death by Letting Go

I got an email from a friend this morning and she was jokingly chastising me for not posting anything new on this blog for her entertainment. She told me that she was bored and that my blog has been a very boring place for her these last many days. Sorry. I told her that I just don't have anything interesting to blog about...well, anything that I feel like transparently sharing with the world at large at least. I guess I've been feeling kinda private and maybe a little vulnerable right now. I'm really doing fine. Mostly. I'm happy. Mostly. Sometimes my life experiences, my relationship dynamics and the emerging insights just need to percolate inside my own body, mind and soul for awhile before exposing them to others. I'm holding many things tenderly right now. I have mommy stuff, kid stuff, husband stuff, lover stuff, friend stuff, work stuff. Me stuff. All my spiritual work. I'm noticing lots of preparing for death work. I've mentioned the death work part to a couple of friends that didn't really seem to get what I meant but I'm very serious about that. I'm looking at abandonment issues, separation anxiety and attachment disorder in myself. Being a psychotherapist I know that these are pathological terms for actual mental disorders but I'm not using them in that way although they are certainly related. Rather I'm just looking at the general human condition and our relationships in this world as well as my own conditioning and relationships and what comes up for me in particular. I've blogged before about the dance of separation and togetherness as well as abandonment and I've also blogged about attachment--as in being attached to people and stuff and things going our way.

A few days ago I was talking to my friend, Ren, about my separation and abandonment issues and she said, "Isn't everyone on the planet wounded like this, with separation and abandonment trauma--isn't this part of the human condition?" I told her that I don't know. I assume that on some level, the answer to her question is probably yes, that most people are wounded in this way, some of us just more than others.

For instance, Mistress Matisse writes about polyamorous relationships and suggests that people who don't deal well with separation and being left alone, those with abandonment issues, shouldn't try to live polyamorously because it will create too much drama and stir up too much pain. I agree with her on this...mostly but my take is a little different. What I suggest is that if people with obvious separation and abandonment issues aren't willing to take full on responsibility for dealing with these issues and therefore take polyamory on, at least in part as a powerful path to self-understanding, self-growth, and emotional maturity, then they are setting themselves up for an ugly head on collision with their inner demons. On the other hand, the path of polyamory can also be walked to consciously confront these demons, pulling them out of the shadows (or doing things that encourage them to jump out of the shadows to scare us) and shining the light of love on them. One cannot live in love and fear at the same time. We can and most likely will, go back and forth between love and fear as part of the process in exorcising (or simply comforting them) the demons of separation and abandonment. So polyamory can be a used as a tool for self growth and healing as well as a lifestyle with all the other wonderful benefits of having more than one sexually loving partner.

I've learned a lot about myself and how I deal with the feelings of separation that sometimes come up with the others that I am in relationship with. These others range from my children, grandchildren, my mother and siblings, to my friends, lovers, and my husband (who is also my friend and lover of course.) These days I'm not so quick to create a story that makes me or others wrong. At least I'm not so quick to believe those stories. I'm learning to allow myself to feel the separation and the panic that sometimes ensues from it and to just be with it, and breathe into it and experience the totality of it in the moment. I have a habit of being attached to connection and want it over separation. I also get very attached to my strategies for connection.

As for my preparation for death that I mentioned-- I realize that I will die someday. Fairly soon, relatively speaking. The years seem to zoom on by and I'm 54 now. I want to make the most of them. I'll be 84 years old in 30 years. That's almost my mother's age right now. I know that unless I get more skilled at dealing with all these little issues of separation and attachment now, dying is going to be one major pain in the ass. That's scary. So I'm practicing letting go. Letting go with grace is my goal. I want to die with grace and I'm betting that the only way to die with grace is to live with grace. I'm seeing life as a practice ground for death. Living it up and enjoying life to the fullest, yes. Definitely. But also, learning to let go of all these little (and seemingly big) attachments now so that when the time comes to let go of my body and everything I've identified with in this life, I will have a lot of practice at it already. Maybe it will be like riding a bicycle.

So I'm paying attention to my needs for freedom, love, sex, a sense of connection and belonging with family and friends, food, air, creativity, ego expression, soul expression, knowledge, living my life's purpose, enlightenment... and I endeavor to take care of those needs interdependently with others. I'm trying to notice when my ego is attached to my strategies and when I'm holding on and getting in my own way rather than letting go and surrendering to life, to what is.

Mothers are Dying

Our mothers are dying.
It's that time for us.
Both of my best friend's mothers are gone.
My friend C.'s mother died on Tuesday.
Bye C.'s mom.
Thanks for bringing her into this world.