Like a tidal wave....

I have to describe what has happened to me today. I have just come in, from the car, and walked right upstairs to my computer to capture this feeling. Grief is fascinating. It is like the stomach flu.... Huh? you say???? It's like this. You think you are over the worst of it and then, like a tidal wave from within, it all spews out of you with such force.

I just attended an amazing yoga workshop taught by Desiree Rumbaugh and it was really wonderful. I came into this room at a local church - lovely room too - filled with like minded people. Maybe about 50? We spread our mats and Desiree started. I was there for my body and hoping it would settle my mind. I am in the final stretch of preparing for this estate sale at my parents and I have been filled with grief - spilling over into the thoughts of my old friend, Kimber, who passed away two months ago. Thinking that yoga would help quiet my mind and improve my spirit, I put down my mat and got into it.

Now, I am a novice in yoga. Many years ago I attended classes regularly. Today, I am not fit and am working toward getting back some of my vitality. The poses were hard but that was okay. There were people there much better than me in the class and that was okay too. My teacher was there to help and encourage me and she was great. Desiree worked with several people and it was amazing. I know that I have far to go.

Something started to slip, in my mind. The carillon started to play several hymns and we could hear it clearly as someone had slipped open a window for a little extra air. I started to cry. At first, I could hold it in but then we had to work with a partner and try handstands. I knew I could not speak to anyone without bursting out into tears which would certainly confuse them. My teacher did come over and work with me and I tried to be a little more together. It just got worse. As we got into Savasana I could barely hold on. The lady, on the mat next to mine, left and came back carrying a handful of tissues. That kindness almost undid me.

At the end of the class, Desiree spoke and mentioned that the funeral was probably over, next door. The carillon had been playing "Softly and tenderly...Jesus is calling.." I had been picking up on the vibe.

At the conclusion of class, the lady next to me spoke to me and offered a hug. I left and had to sit in my car for a few minutes,overwhelmed with sadness. I went full on into what Oprah refers to as the "ugly cry". The emotions overcame me and I felt the cover come off a very deep well of grief.

I know there is no way past this emotion I feel over the loss of my dear parents and my dear friend. As I say in "Lion Hunt" - a call and response game I play with my Montessori kids... "Can't go over it...can't go under it....Gotta go through it."

I am grateful that I am in emotional pain and not physical pain because it means that I can go through it and not have scarring. I know this pain. It is as deep as it was when I went through a horrendous divorce. The pain was suffocating, at times. I lived through it and, later, was able to meet and marry the most wonderful man who is an amazing parent to my daughter. I know I can get through this too. It's just very damn hard, at present.

What will meet me on the other side, I wonder?

As I walked out through the church office something caught my eye. It was a black and white copy of a baby's hand and foot with the handwritten message.."Thank you for being my hands and feet. I love you more than you can imagine. God"

I turned it over and the article printed on the back was entitled "Inspired Breathing". Here is an excerpt from this sheet.

"Do something very courageous, very bold, very exhilarating, and pass the energy along. Be infectious. Lower your voice and lean in to tell someone how awesome it is to move halfway across the country with no money, no job, no place to live. (Freaky, eh Michele??) Breathe in, breathe out, breathe into another. Tell another woman how you left a suffocating job - so she knows she can do it. Tell a young woman about the thrill of traveling around the world alone, so she knows she can try it. Be as healthy, as vibrant, as beautiful, as authentic as you possibly can be, in a way that speaks silently to to her. You can be this, too," Rachel Synder encourages us in her illuminating book of meditations, 365 Words of Well-Being for Women. "Smile at other women's dreams and their hopes, and reassure them that they'll survive whatever black hole they're currently navigating."

Today some woman around you is bound to need a little inspirational CPR, so don't stop breathing. Your own life may depend upon it.


Namaste.