I, have become comfortably numb…
Many of you already know that I’ve recently had a bereavement; I lost a brother, father-figure and best friend of over forty years in January, which hit me harder than I could ever have imagined.
I won’t go into too much depth but I was almost struck dumb with pain – I removed myself from all of my social networks, feeling unable to communicate with anything less than authenticity – and if you know me at all, you’ll know that when I feel low, I do my best not to infect others with my own sorrow or negativity. It was a difficult time but I did what I advise others to do – feel it fully and let go. Thankfully many of my friends in social media circles knew the person concerned and my connection to him, so they understood some of my process. I took time out and began a re-evaluation of my life – but that is for another post.
I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the love, support and compassion you’ve shown.
So when I was asked to find words to help one of those friends who had been tasked with speaking at a funeral, I was initially afraid of what it might throw up for me. I asked a few pertinent questions and thought about what it meant for the family involved.
It took me two days to sit with it and write my own words, just as applicable to myself, as any other person, who is dealing with the death of someone close.
Here’s what I wrote;
We can never know the inner journey of another; we only see what is visible to our own eyes; we know nothing of the depth of their pain or anguish – and so we attempt to fill in the gaps with the wisdom, love and courage of our own learning and knowledge, which on a spiritual plane, at times may or may not, be enough to sustain another.
What we should try to remember is that our travels on this earth is an awakening; an opening of our hearts and minds to the ways of others – we may resist their path, sometimes unwilling to accept a reality different from our own, but absolute acceptance is in believing that their experiences are valid and true – and that no matter what we ourselves might believe, the soul’s journey is to do what is right for itself; no matter how harrowing that experience is.
Some find solace in using their hands to create, their sight to draw or for others it’s in listening to meaningful songs and music, all of which will in some way, reflect a meaning from the life they lived. It’s not ours to make sense of.
We are not here to judge. We’ve come into this life to learn compassion; we’re here to love and accept the journey of another – to learn from it what we can – and apply those things to our own lives, wherever we can.
It may take time to fully appreciate those ‘things’ but as our minds catch up with what we know in our hearts to be true, we learn also to deal with our grief – the loss of something we called our own – when really it was only a momentary glimpse of a different being, another one of ‘us’, bringing lessons in disguise.
Our grief is deep, the wounds are raw – we must work hard to overcome our own feelings of despondence and despair – but take comfort in knowing there is peace, final peace in resting in spirit – the spirit which volunteered and undertook this adventure we call life – to live it and love the people closest to us, before returning to Source.
I do believe it’s working
That’ll keep you going through the show
It’s time to go
There is no pain – you are receding
A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move
But I can’t hear what you’re saying
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown
The dream is gone …
I… Have become, comfortably numb
We cannot lose that which we carry with us…