Can I relax into life? Can I trust that I’ll be Ok, that I’m looked after no matter what?
As I lie on the table in the office of the Rosen practicionar, I feel the presence of my dad. And I cry. I’ve been so angry. I thought I had lost his love, that he was gone forever. I thought I was alone.
I became hard, frozen inside. I clenched my teeth and kept on living, yet never trusting life, nor the gods that rule over everything.
I felt they were always disappointed and angry with me. I shrank from them in fear, at the same time feeling infuriated because they took things from me without caring for me or those I loved.
But now I feel so move love. And I’m surprised. My dad is close. He is not gone. I sense he is somewhere wonderful. Expanded, joyful, all knowing. He looks out for me.
I also feel my sister, deep in my heart.
Lastly I feel my mom. I feel her love, and I cry even more. I can sense her intent, her soft loving words that are not words at all, yet I understand her perfectly. There is forgiveness and understanding between us. She has let go of the sternness she carried while alive. Now there is only love. She apologizes and I feel free, I don’t feel tense towards her any longer. There’s only love.
The three of them are with me. The core of love that I rested in as a child, that I thought I had lost forever.
I keep crying, my breath deepens. I’m not sure how long I can stay in this love. It’s overwhelming, yet so wonderful. But I have to leave soon, go outside where people can see me. I’m not ready to cry in the open.
I get up. I feel a little dizzy, blood rushing through my body, into my face, leaving my cheeks flushes and my eyes bright.
Thank you. Thank you. I silently speak it to my family and feel waves of love wash over me. There’s still more tears, I feel I could keep crying for much longer. I’ve been burying my grief for so long.
When all is stripped away, there is only love.
Could it really be, that my family is with me still, that they are looking out for me, guiding me? I sense they are together. In my heart I hear a clear yes when I wonder if they’re with me. It’s wonderful, and I almost can’t believe it. I had thought they had moved on by now, forgotten about me completely.
As I sit down at my favorite cafe, ordering tea and a croissant, I reflect some more. I look at the chair opposite to mine and imagine my dad sitting there now. Instantly my heart breaks open. I see myself taking his hands in mine, and without saying anything, we just soak in the love between us. I want nothing more than to see him again, his smile, his humour. Our souls still feel linked.
I feel grateful. Hopeful. Perhaps things will be OK. I feel blessed by so much love, more pure since there is no ego now. Still I wish I could have them in front of me again, to talk to them, to touch them. It’s not the same, but it’s comforting to know that love does not die.
The sun is finally out, after weeks of rain. I find myself stopping what I’m doing, feeling a need to sit down and watch this mysterious glow on the trees, the grass, the white empty house next door.
Sundays feels like a slow day to me. Slow in a good way, a time to stop, relax, go within. Soak in beauty, get inspired. Pray. Ask for help as I plan my week.
Yesterday my husband and I saw a rainbow over the water. It was strong, made of brilliant colors. I did not want to stop looking at it.
I’m sitting here with my empty cup, the sweet ginger chai all gone. I hear my husband chewing his food as I write. There is a smell of butter and cheese. My eyes keep getting drawn to the tall fir trees on fire with sunlight.
The sun is slipping behind the mountains behind me. The shadows are growing longer.
She’s sitting inside by candlelight. Outside the world is covered in mist. Everything is silent. Still. There is only the steady hum from the fridge, a car passing by now and then. The world is waking up. Slowly, then faster.
She feels tired yet is unwilling to go back to sleep. The day has already begun and she don’t want to miss out on anything.
A fly sits on the window. A pink candle is burning next to her, its flame almost unmoving. She feels hungry. Soon she’ll make breakfast.
The last days of summer. The light is turning golden, a new chill in the air.
I’m sitting on the my jacket, my bare feet touching the ground. A soft breeze makes the grass move, sway gently. The trees around me whisper something.
My feet tingle, like they always do when they’re naked against the earth. I feel a little thirsty, but I don’t want to move.
A small spider wiggles on a strand of grass, then stops. I wish it would leave. It’s ugly, a pale yellow brown with long, disgusting feet. It wriggles closer. I tense, move my legs slightly, but I’m still unwilling to get up.
I use my pen to make it flying, and end up losing the cap. The spider disappear. I have no idea where it is now. I think I made things worse.
I’m sitting in someone else’s back yard. The old house looks empty. I don’t think the old lady who owns it is here right now. She only visits during the summer. She has roses. As I passed them the air was filled with their scent. I wish I could take their sweetness with me into winter.
I feel worried. Worried that time is passing. Worried that I’m not doing enough, or doing them well enough.
I feel tense. I want to told onto time, control it. I’m not sure how to flow with life.
There is a bird in the bush next to me. Another answers from the forest behind me. The shadows are growing longer. Everything is so beautiful.
My mind wanders. Worries again. Have I done enough? Should I be doing something else right now?
I dreamt about dying last night. I really hope I go somewhere nice when I die.