"Not Proven"

One of the things I appreciate about my teacher is that she stresses the importance of checking any information received during an inner journey. We've only been working together a couple of weeks, but I've become very familiar with the "Scotch Verdict" of "not proven."

There have been more than a few times these past few weeks that I've had reason to believe I could feel LM's presence near me. Some times have been more vivid than others, including one very explicit dream in which I was able to hear his voice quite clearly. I can not express what a comfort it is to be able to have any kind of hope that he and I will be able to communicate and be in contact in a meaningful way again while I am still in this life. (I take as a given that he continues to exist.)

She never met LM, and yet her accounts of her occasional contacts with him, both direct and via report from her own allies, all ring utterly true.

When I go to bed at night, I reach out to him and invite him to come and be with me, to lie next to me and hold me as he did for the six months we were together in life. Sometimes I have a strong sense of his presence, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I feel the presence of one his own allies instead of him: a wolf lying at my back to companion me while LM is tending to something else.

Last night, I didn't do that. Last night I went to bed later than planned, and I fell asleep after doing only a few four-two-four breaths. This morning, I woke up aching for LM's presence, missing him more acutely than I have in days. Is it because I did not have him with me last night?

I don't know. That's one hypothesis.
Not proven.

I want proof.
I want to be sure.
I do not want to deceive or delude myself.
The only way to arrive at a place where I can feel more certain is to continue this practice, to either build my skills at this work to the point that I can feel confident in what I perceive, or prove to myself that it really doesn't work and let it go.

However, I should add that when my spiritual director asked me a couple of days ago what I'm doing for self care during these busy, grieving, transition days, my first response was "Nothing." Then I changed my answer: this work, this practice, is giving me authentic comfort, and helping me stay in touch with the transcendent and my own center when all around me is in flux. When I do my meditations and centering I feel better and stronger and more peaceful. Whether LM is there to meet me or not, this work has real value for me.

The Whole Story

When LM died, he left behind only a few personal effects that were fully his, most of which had been gifts from me. Later that morning, I reminded our partner of the line from The Thirteenth Warrior: "I will die a pauper. . . A man could be thought wealthy indeed if someone were to write the story of his deeds."

I owe LM that story. I don't know all of it -- and that remains a source of grief for me -- but I know enough to tell the heart of it.

At first I couldn't write it because the grief was too raw. Now I don't have the time or peace. In another week or so, once the latest transition is accomplished, I'm going to start. There are some who will read it as a fantasy, while others will know that it's the truth as he told it to me and the truth as I lived it.

In the end, it is myth, sacred story, in which the facts are not the issue, the Truth of the story is.

More than Enough

My doctor is sending me to a GI specialist because the Prilosec is not eliminating my heartburn (which predates Lohain's death). In fact, the symptoms are getting worse.

Miss V is being a pain.

I still have a lot of packing to do, even though I'm not worried about getting it finished in time.

I sleep well but wake up tired.

I'm lonely.

I loathe my job today.

It was gorgeous earlier, when I parked three blocks away and left my jacket in the car, and now it's pouring down rain.

Today, I just want it all to stop, to go away.

Up Again

I need a roller coaster icon.

I didn't get rained on, but I felt pretty miserable driving home from work. However, a call with oakmouse helped a great deal. She has some marvelous insights -- on more than just the material plane -- and helped me get some perspective. Just hearing her warm, enthusiastic voice lifts my spirits.

Then _storyteller_ came over, and we had what felt like the first 'normal' evening we've had since uncrowned_king died. He cooked dinner, we talked about all kinds of things going on in our lives, and shared some hugs and backrubs. It was nice to be able to savor grown-up physical affection, not just child cuddles. It's sometimes a bit awkward finding the new balances and boundaries when a relationship shifts, but we're doing a pretty good job. I did cry several times, but it was (mostly) from release rather than grief. I've been the sole grownup in my home during several stressful weeks, and it was a huge relief to receive nurturing and be able to lean on someone else's energy for a while. I feel like my energy buffer has been renewed; the world doesn't feel as spiky and sharp-edged as it has.

To top things off, my parents went out scouting today for a new loft bed for my daughter, whose current bed has become a bit rickety. They found the perfect set (they sent photos), and will be taking the daughter out to see it tomorrow. Evidently it could probably be delivered to the new place on Monday. They volunteered to pay for it, but I can afford to do so, and I'm insisting on doing it. They've done so much to support us over the years, and I've needed it. But I've got sufficient resources now, and it feels good to be able to say "No thanks, I can take care of it."

So I'm feeling much more peaceful and balanced than I was this afternoon.

Now if I can only figure out where we hid the big tape gun. . . .