Grieving even when nobody has died
Today I heard, in some detail, that one of my favorite people is moving out of my part of the country. We could, of course, promise to stay in touch. It might even be that we do stay in touch.
But it is more likely that we won't ... or that we will continue to think of each other warmly but maintain the connection in a most limited way. Annual 'season's greetings' or 'year in review' letters have never seemed satisfying to me.
There wasn't a single thing I could say this morning without spilling my tears all over the experience ... and feeling guilty (whether needed or not) for forcing others to comfort me ...
What I heard this morning was eloquent, apt, appropriate. And it was said well.
What I've been having trouble acknowledging is how much it hurts to be losing this friend ... and how much I have taken for granted the warmth of the relationship we had during our early years in the same community. How much I have relied on my blithe assumption that "some day," when my mate was ready to be in New Jersey more, I would just be able to pick up the dropped threads of how it felt to me to be sharing the work, to be dropping in now and then for a real conversation. How much I have wandered off into my own adventures and foolishly assumed that there would still be room for us to make a strong friendship after I returned, before (as I always knew would happen) one of us moved on.
What I'm seeing at the moment is how cavalier I was, to assume that opportunity would always be there. This is being a good object lesson in the importance of letting people know they're important to me while we're still in the middle of it, instead of only at the end. And while I am grateful for the teaching, I wish I'd had the good sense to learn it before this time. To benefit from the lesson by enjoying more time and work together while we were still in the middle of this one.
Listening in detail, it seems to me that this move is exactly right for the folks most involved. The place, the surroundings, and the task at hand all seem tailor-made for some beautiful and deep work. All seems in readiness to plant, and nurture, and then bloom something wonderful, huge, and new.
Selfishly I hope I'll get to read a blog about these adventures, even so far away.
I hope they will Go with God, by whatever gender(s), by whatever (and all their) names. I hope they will each Be You to Full; be Joy-Us; be Response-Able; be enLight-ened. I hope they will experience their participation and participate in their experience. I hope they will choose to participate and participate in their choices. I hope they will take care of themselves before taking care of others. I hope they will know that the universe loves them beyond all reason.
I'm gonna go have another good cry now.
But it is more likely that we won't ... or that we will continue to think of each other warmly but maintain the connection in a most limited way. Annual 'season's greetings' or 'year in review' letters have never seemed satisfying to me.
There wasn't a single thing I could say this morning without spilling my tears all over the experience ... and feeling guilty (whether needed or not) for forcing others to comfort me ...
What I heard this morning was eloquent, apt, appropriate. And it was said well.
What I've been having trouble acknowledging is how much it hurts to be losing this friend ... and how much I have taken for granted the warmth of the relationship we had during our early years in the same community. How much I have relied on my blithe assumption that "some day," when my mate was ready to be in New Jersey more, I would just be able to pick up the dropped threads of how it felt to me to be sharing the work, to be dropping in now and then for a real conversation. How much I have wandered off into my own adventures and foolishly assumed that there would still be room for us to make a strong friendship after I returned, before (as I always knew would happen) one of us moved on.
What I'm seeing at the moment is how cavalier I was, to assume that opportunity would always be there. This is being a good object lesson in the importance of letting people know they're important to me while we're still in the middle of it, instead of only at the end. And while I am grateful for the teaching, I wish I'd had the good sense to learn it before this time. To benefit from the lesson by enjoying more time and work together while we were still in the middle of this one.
Listening in detail, it seems to me that this move is exactly right for the folks most involved. The place, the surroundings, and the task at hand all seem tailor-made for some beautiful and deep work. All seems in readiness to plant, and nurture, and then bloom something wonderful, huge, and new.
Selfishly I hope I'll get to read a blog about these adventures, even so far away.
I hope they will Go with God, by whatever gender(s), by whatever (and all their) names. I hope they will each Be You to Full; be Joy-Us; be Response-Able; be enLight-ened. I hope they will experience their participation and participate in their experience. I hope they will choose to participate and participate in their choices. I hope they will take care of themselves before taking care of others. I hope they will know that the universe loves them beyond all reason.
I'm gonna go have another good cry now.