Death practise
What a wonderful day it was yesterday. Even though I'd heard the previous day that my grandfather had died and the funeral is the day after tomorrow. Not looking forward to being near my father, but again, excellent timing by the universe.
That's the third death in one year. Funny, cos I had this suspicion at the time, this feeling, that there might be death showing up on my doorstep shortly, because I haven't had much practise with it, and now three people dead.
Saturday I was practising my own death, happily envisioning scenarios of what could happen at any given moment during a walk, doing grocery shopping, et cetera. Elaborate deaths, simple ones, I must have died about twenty times every hour. I felt ready, I felt okay with it, this need to do something important before I die had faded, Saturday I didn't feel it's presence at all.
That night, after my death practise, my grandfather died, well how about that. I haven't shed a tear yet, I didn't know him that well, and I'm clean of feelings I'm 'supposed to' have. You know, crying because I seem cold when I don't. And yesterday was just wonderful.
I felt contained within myself, peaceful, content. A relaxed contentment opened me up inside and suddenly I found myself striking up conversations where I wouldn't have before. It was like the peaceful moment I had in the deck chair this summer, but all day long. ALL DAY LONG. It stayed with me long after I expected it to be gone.
So I'm starting to trust, because if those moments of peace and feeling so wonderfully clean, empty and content start increasing and growing into full days of sheer being, then I might worry less when I hit a slump. There was nothing standing in the way of experiencing the day, the city (I was in Amsterdam for an appointment), the moment. No obstructing thoughts, no messy 'old' emotions colouring my vision.
I was so afraid of not writing here, but after six or so days the fog started to lift and I was able to reassure myself again that these periods are just as necessary for the process. For adjusting to the next level.
I can't say I was happy yesterday, that's different, that's more outward in a sense, this felt more inward.
That's the third death in one year. Funny, cos I had this suspicion at the time, this feeling, that there might be death showing up on my doorstep shortly, because I haven't had much practise with it, and now three people dead.
Saturday I was practising my own death, happily envisioning scenarios of what could happen at any given moment during a walk, doing grocery shopping, et cetera. Elaborate deaths, simple ones, I must have died about twenty times every hour. I felt ready, I felt okay with it, this need to do something important before I die had faded, Saturday I didn't feel it's presence at all.
That night, after my death practise, my grandfather died, well how about that. I haven't shed a tear yet, I didn't know him that well, and I'm clean of feelings I'm 'supposed to' have. You know, crying because I seem cold when I don't. And yesterday was just wonderful.
I felt contained within myself, peaceful, content. A relaxed contentment opened me up inside and suddenly I found myself striking up conversations where I wouldn't have before. It was like the peaceful moment I had in the deck chair this summer, but all day long. ALL DAY LONG. It stayed with me long after I expected it to be gone.
So I'm starting to trust, because if those moments of peace and feeling so wonderfully clean, empty and content start increasing and growing into full days of sheer being, then I might worry less when I hit a slump. There was nothing standing in the way of experiencing the day, the city (I was in Amsterdam for an appointment), the moment. No obstructing thoughts, no messy 'old' emotions colouring my vision.
I was so afraid of not writing here, but after six or so days the fog started to lift and I was able to reassure myself again that these periods are just as necessary for the process. For adjusting to the next level.
I can't say I was happy yesterday, that's different, that's more outward in a sense, this felt more inward.
posted by M. at 11:25 PM
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