Life and. . .

Loss

of a loved one,

a family member,

is a stark

reality

of life.

There is

no way out.

Anticipating

a loved one’s death

offers no

preparation.

Expectation,

no matter

how long,

does not

offer

a roadmap.

Once the rituals

whatever they are

have ended,

each of us

are

on our own.

Friends may console,

prayers said,

but in each moment

reminders

present

the harshness

of raw

physical,

emotional,

spiritual

change.

When

tears wet

my eyes

or sobs

move my

body,

it is a relief.

Pent-up

emotions

erupt

on grief’s

own schedule.

There is no

measurement

of the tears, the sadness.

The shadows

linger.

“Are you over it yet?”

a friend was asked

six weeks after her husband died.

There should be

no expectation

or impatience

with someone’s

time of

mourning.

There may be

stages,

but each person

marks their own.

There may be

light

with the shadows.

Sometimes.

A smell,

a glimpse

of someone who

reminds of

the loved one.

The depth and length

of grief

may

reflect the

intensity

of love

between

the

one

who has died

and those

left to mourn.

Life

Death.

Kindness.

Please.

Before It Is Too Late

At any time

in my adult life

which came of age

during the civil rights movement,

it is clearly imperative

that we acknowledge

how far we have not come

in being

welcoming and loving

                                                                                   to all.

If we,

our children,

our children’s children,

are going to live together,

we must talk not

just with adults

about how this election cycle

has exposed rampant

prejudice and anger.

It is inherent

in sharing the

FACTS of LIFE.

Perhaps

the voices of our children

have more wisdom

and simplicity

in how

we can begin

in this moment

to love ourselves

and love each other.

Age and Wisdom

I

should be

wiser

than I was.

Memory

composes a story

of shames and amazements.

The shames I closed

inside myself,

but the amazements,

at a sun streaked wall,

at the thrill

of an oriole,

a face,

an iris,

a volume of poems,

a person,

endure and return

in brightness.

Such moments lifted me

above my lameness.

-Czeselaw Milosz , Polish Nobel Laureate in Literature

 I don’t necessarily feel wiser as I age. However, I do remember coming upon similar challenges at earlier times and hoping that what I learned would help me.It is natural to assume that age will confer wisdom. It is really a hope that I will remember-and act on-what I’ve learned from life’s experiences.   Sometimes, I realize that asking “is this mine?”  is the question to ask myself. Often the quiet answer comes and it is “NO”.

Playing Back

A friend

needs

the song

in your heart

and can sing

it back

to you

when

you need it.

In some ways,

friends

are

mirrors

to us,

and, at times,

we can be

mirrors to them.

Friends

can know

how

to sing

words of encouragement

and love-

music

to our hearts-

when

we need them.

I think

that one of the signs

of real friendship

is the

reciprocity

of

keeping in touch.

livinglinesreflections.com

Bouquet

Each

friend

represents

a world

in us,

a world

possibly

not born

until

he or she

arrives.

I have a bouquet

of friends,

each one

different.

I find

myself

revealing-

sometimes

discovering-

different

aspects

of myself

with each

of them.

livinglinesreflections.com

Attaching

I feel like

I have

crossed

through

wild winds

into the calm

eye of the storm.

I must face

the wildness again

because the

calm will pass.

Clouds

are sometimes used

as a metaphor.

Watching the sky,

sometimes only

as wisp of white

dabbles

the blue

of the sky.

Clouds may move

with the breeze

or be blown

by the wind.

Today

there are many layers

some dense,

some moving quickly.

The clouds

show confusion,

some static,

occasionally

the sun peaks through.

The clouds

remind me to

practice

not attaching

to a

particular

state of mind,

pleasurable

or painful

or somewhere

in-between.

Each state

will change.

By being

engaged,

conscious of

what is happening,

I try

not to hold

onto

one

particular time.

Turning the Sound Down

When you feel

life is too intense,

imagine it as

a TV soap opera.

Turn the sound down

until it seems manageable

or mute the sound

and read the text.

It reads

differently

than it sounds.

What is

going on

in your life

may seem

less dramatic.

Sometimes

we can’t

eliminate

the drama

in our lives,

but we can

turn the volume down.

Do you have

ways

that help

you ?