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Love Never Dies, A Newsletter about the Journey from Loss to LoveFebruary 2005 Issue #14 Sandy Goodman, Editor Welcome to the "LOVE NEVER DIES" newsletter. Please e-mail me after perusing this issue with any ideas, submissions, or questions for the May issue. Thank you! |
IN THIS ISSUE
=> From the Editor
=> Poetry
=> Resources
=> News and Tidbits
=> Tips and Ideas
=> Ponderings
=> From our Readers
=> Copyright and Subscribe/Unsubscribe information
FROM THE EDITOR
I received an email from a subscriber a few days ago, asking when the newsletter would be out. She said, "I feel better sometimes after reading them." Since I had been procrastinating the actual sitting down and typing part, I felt guilty when I realized that I might be able to shine a little light in this reader's darkness. But what to write? What does she need to hear? What can I possibly have to offer that I haven't already written somewhere . . . sometime . . . My mind was blank, just like it is every time I start thinking about writing another book. Empty . . . but . . . anticipative?
And so, after a few days of staring at an empty page, I realized I could try writing "what Jason would say." Those of you who have read Love Never Dies know that I did this at the end of each chapter. I "put words in his mouth" and did not know, until I was finished, what those words would be. I'm simply going to ask him, right now, what he wants to share. If all goes well, I will type what I think he'd say.
My mom found a poem tonight, and she may be planning on putting it somewhere else in this newsletter, but I want it right here, right now. But first, I need to warn you. If you are just now dealing with somebody dying, if you are in The Pit and feeling like you have no chance of crawling out, if you do not WANT to feel differently, then this message is not for you. Not yet. Not now. Right now your task is to feel exactly what you are feeling and feel it until it changes. If this sounds like you, scroll down and save this for later. If you've been there, but you're ready to climb out, read on. Mom, the poem?
that happens at night
that does not come
while the light is with us.
There are things that cannot
be evaded
once the sun goes down.
Small nocturnal creatures
with sharp white teeth
silently gnaw at the edges of
belly and heart
when the darkness descends
and the void inside
grows larger.
It can split you open.
And the bone
in the centre of your chest
aches
like the cracked wishing bone
from the turkey breast.
And if we are strong enough
to be weak enough
we are given a wound
that never heals.
It is the gift
that keeps the heart open.
~Oriah Mountain Dreamer c 1995
Author of The Invitation and numerous other WONDERFUL books
Oriah's Website
Okay, I'll give you a couple minutes to swallow those last few lines, and then I want you to go get a piece of paper and a pen. Take a few minutes to notice your breathing, and then ask yourself what gifts you have received during your journey from loss to love. Oops, you may not all know what that means . . . I mean during your grieving, while you've been feeling the pain of losing someone you love. What have you gained? List them all. Every single gift you have recieved. Even if it was a gift you did not want.
Only you will see what you write. I'm not going to read over your shoulder, don't worry. And no fair writing down you've gained compassion, unless you can give an example. No fair saying your priorities have changed, unless you explain how. This is a project, not a 15 minute exercise. Leave it by your bed in case you wake up at 3 in the morning with something to add.
I would like you to work on the list for the next week. Once you think you have it all covered, and you're feeling guilty for finding good things that have actually come from the death of someone you love, I want you to take it with you and go to the place where you feel your loved ones presence the strongest. Your back yard, your car, the cemetery, wherever. Go there alone, list in hand. Sit down, get comfortable. Breathe....breathe in calm, breathe out a smile, breathe in calm, breathe out a smile . . .
Picture him or her in your mind. Remember times you spent with them. Smell the same smells, feel the same feelings. Ask them how they are, imagine the reply. Tell them how you miss them, imagine their reply. Once you have a conversation going, even though it is JUST YOUR IMAGINATION (not!) ask them to please sit with you for a while, and tell them you want to thank them for what they have given you. Read them your list. Talk to them about it. If you can, imagine them asking you questions about what you have written, and you answering those questions. Allow yourself to feel gratitude and love. Allow yourself to feel love rather than pain for just this little speck of time. Allow yourself to believe.
What is the point? The point is this. When grief happens, and every feeling and belief you hold true is scraped out of you until you are raw and bleeding, you have an opportunity to start over.
Everything you learn, know, or experience after that can be a gift. But only if you allow yourself to perceive it as such. So many of you hold on to your bitterness and your anger because you think you are betraying us, the ones who have died. But we aren't dead... and the gifts we call your attention to are gifts from us, or because of us. We want you to know that. We want you to stop thinking the way you do, and start feeling the way you can.
Wow, I got pretty serious there for a minute, huh? I guess I still have a smidgen of that "Mr. Goodman" personality hanging around. I don't know if this will help any of you, but I sure feel better. Woooo-eeeeee. . .
This is Jason, back after a long vacation and ready to roll. Over and out.
POETRY
Question
There is not a moment
or a place
that you are not
i find you in sunshine
in darkness
in the wind
and in calmness
in silence
in laughter
in tears
and in joy.
why then
do i miss you
if you are always here?
it is
perhaps
not the "missing you",
but is instead
the missing
what was never real
and...
was never mine.