Tag: grief

We Continue

/ Lanae / Leave a comment Featured

This year, with the passing of both my parents (Mom March 20 and Dad July 10), has brought me into an even profounder intimacy with mortality, impermanence, remembrance, and grief journeying with all the questions and textures those contain. Following their departures from this life, I feel too a fresh and fuller sense of ancestral responsibility – like a torch has been passed, and yet far more than that. In learning to travel through this new (and yet also ancient and shared) territory, I sometimes feel I’m stumbling, finding and learning the path as I go. As I seek to process, navigate, interpret, and integrate these ineffable experiences, thoughts, and feelings, I’ve turned to an old faithful friend – poetry (or, my old friend came to me to light my way).

There’s a story, an experience, from which the poem I share here emerged. During the week before my Dad’s funeral I felt a deep urge to drive up to Crawford where Mom’s parents lived and are buried, just to revisit some childhood places and go see their graves. While at the cemetery I wished I had something to lay on the grave but that time I had nothing. So, I spoke with the delightful florist (Bluebird Flowers & Gifts in Alliance) who made lovely creations for both my parents’ funerals and for Mom’s grave, and requested her to make an arrangement for my grandparents’ grave. The next time I was out to Alliance I journeyed back up to Crawford and placed the arrangement at their headstone.

So many graves that seem so lonely and unremembered, seems a strange poignance in that … and my heart is more tender to that these days.
I have vowed that while I live, every grave of my ancestors is going to be honored and not look lonely but loved and remembered. For me, it’s one small but deep part of both being a good descendant and becoming a good ancestor, carrying forth with respect and gratitude all the good in my ancestors, inviting healing where it is needed, and continuing belovedness.

 

We Continue

Someday
we will be
remembered
only by Earth and Sky
and Spirit Creator
but enough that is
and perhaps the truest
remembering
as it emerges from the truest
knowing
of who we are
and of what we are made –
the stardust and energy
and all atoms
that formed our bones and our flesh
and the spirit
that filled and enlivened us
When our breath is no
more
Breath, Holy Breath, remains –
a spacious wind through Sky skimming over
Earth – all is
known, held, remains remembered

These words arrived Home
to me, while standing in the searing summer
sun of Nebraska’s high plains
at the grave of my grandparents, who
gave life to my mother, whose body of earth
also rests now beneath the earth
I stood remembering, flowers of silk
brought to lay before the stone to show –
those who rest here are still remembered
As I remained remembering, my heart
wondering, how many living ones know
or remember my grandparents
Mildred and Mervil Reece
(parents of LaDonna (born still), Leila, and Dwain)
who remains who might yet pass by this stone
with memory of these names and perhaps their bearers?
My own memories move now in
misted time, incomplete images
some vivid, some fading to ephemeral watercolor
senses of their essence –
did I know them?
Grampa gone when I was four,
Gramma’s mind stolen away by Alzheimer’s long before
her body surrendered the summer I was twenty
her will ever fierce (here, a clear felt memory sense, threaded
in my spirit, this I know)
How well did (do) I know them, my ancestors?

Not like Spirit
not like Earth and Sky
know them – now
but I remember them living
and rings in me the bell of truth
that a time comes when I
no more in this form here will be
to carry memory of my ancestors
my grandparents, my parents,
a time comes when
no one remains to remember me
and when the time comes
no one remains to remember me
or those whom I remembered
Earth, Sky, and wind will
remember
Spirit Creator will
remember
and beyond remember,
remain knowing

We continue
in the Earth and Sky
in wild wind and stillness
in trees and rivers
in dew and clouds
in sun and storm
We continue in the breath of every living one
and in the breath and body of the Earth
We continue
and so we remain
and in remaining are remembered
by Earth and Eternity
even when human mind and history
have forgotten or knew not
We continue

Monthly Abundance Focus, March: Generosity

/ Lanae / Leave a comment Featured

This review of March’s Abundance theme focus is a little later than usual, and frankly, I seriously considered whether it was honestly the right time or relevant to be posting about an Abundance Project in the midst of a pandemic, topsy-turvy time of loss and grief. Well – and especially when the focus of March was ‘Money’, with the overall intention of financial energy care and changing my spirit toward financial abundance!

And I’m still questioning … but I’m going to share something for 3 reasons:

One, because continuity matters, for the sake of retaining some sense of healthy normalcy and incorporating what was helpful from old rhythms and structures into the new.

Two, because abundance still matters and is perhaps even more relevant, simply in a different way.

Three, because this theme focus is really more about generosity than finances or financial attitudes (well, maybe generosity is both a financial and spiritual attitude!) – and generosity of service and spirit matters, more than ever!

When there is much loss and fear and grief afoot, abundance and hope and grace are even more relevant – fundamental not only to surviving but thriving, to sustaining care and compassion, to moving through grief and yet inviting gratitude to be present where it can be found, to maintaining an un-narrowed spirit open to share and serve and trust.

Certainly, this year’s circumstances weren’t what I envisioned (how could I?!) – and yet, reflecting on it, what better time to have an Abundance Project? To have intentions and practices in place to ground and sustain me and stay in my heart and mind even when my energy flagged and my soul and body felt wearied and worn.

I’m not going to post the entirety of the action steps, because some of them got as turned upside down as did life and its structures and rhythms and just had to be let go. But the two which were my anchoring intentions became freshly, vividly relevant – re-defining what abundance can mean, needs to mean, on a deeper level, for self and soul care and communal care.

The mantra for the month was ‘Make money your servant, to help you serve in love’. And oh, how relevant was and is serving in love!

Some may remember that at the beginning of March I posted this on Facebook: My challenge to myself this month, which I am sharing here now to help me with diligence + accountability, is to buy nothing new this month, outside of groceries and household supplies! (One hope is that this helps with my book addiction ) I’ll let you know at the end of month how intention parlayed into accomplishment …

The challenge to buy nothing new or un-needed? It worked well – helped out by the practicality of removing non-essential store trips and utilizing online grocery shopping/order pick-up options, especially in service of public health safety. If, say, a splurge urge arose, I sat with it, to see what the need really was underneath the want and to give the desire a chance to dissolve of its own accord. Waiting helped me want less and fill the true need more. Wanting less helped me see I have and am enough already; wanting less helped me have more to give!

And in the middle of March, this: “Be generous. Do not budget generosity. Do not ever fear to be generous.”

These are words from one of my action steps in this month’s Abundance Project theme focus …. and today I’ve been reflecting just how appropriate they feel to me right now. Now is the time for abundant generosity, and to not give permission to the fear and anxiety that is present right now to pull us away from that or lure us into a fear-narrowed scarcity mindset. We *will* have enough together!

Now is the time for generosity of care, of compassion, of communication, of finding both creative and practical ways to reach out, serve, soothe, and help one another. To give without measure from what we have to give. To feed one another – not just offering food for the body but food for the heart, soul, mind, to share peace for our troubled spirits, be balm for one another’s anxious fears, to hold space for one another. All of this generosity is possible even with the physical distancing – physical distancing need not be, must not be, emotional or spiritual distancing!

We have an invitation now into deeper ways of practicing healing community, inviting Love to bridge physical and social distances and bring us together in a solidarity more powerful than fear, than any virus.

If the first intention is about understanding the true need under the want, this second intention is about an ‘abundance response’.

The two intentions fit perfectly together! I couldn’t have known when I was crafting my Abundance Project how right each month’s guiding focus and intentions would be, but they have been so attuned to the needs of the moment it could only have been Spirit, indeed. They helped me not get lost in a tempting fear-narrowed scarcity mindset. They anchored me in a more generous compassion toward my fears and needs and others’ fears and needs, and served as a compass pointing me toward abundance responses.

Abundance responses are exactly what is needed right now … to help us care well for ourselves and one another, to help us help ourselves and our communities deal with the suffering,  fears, and challenges* of this time and find healing together.

*Including parenting, which it just so happens I chose as April’s focus with intention to cultivate relationship with each kid, and spend quality time with them, and the mantra to “Love them as they are, so that they learn to love themselves into their authentic best selves.” Well! How much more fitting could that get, indeed!*

Redefining everything

/ Lanae / 2 Comments Featured

I’ve been feeling like my words have all been coming for me recently, echoing back at me … both reproachfully and hopefully!

All the various deep intentions I challenged myself to practice and to be …

Being mindful, practicing deep listening

Being an includer, practicing radical inclusion

To nurture belongingness for those who have felt a sense of not belonging

Being peace

Being stillness, being a healing presence

Choosing abundance

Living these words has felt painfully hard recently, feeling like I was failing to live my spiritual practices. And yet these words, these intentions have still anchored me …

In mid-October, I gave a reflection at my church home about choosing abundance and gratitude. How I learned to choose abundance, abandon the myth of scarcity, the one that said that there wasn’t enough and I would never be enough or have enough. How I’d spent years in poverty-thinking and I was done with that …

But even though I passionately declared myself done with it, I guess it wasn’t done with me!  I found myself mired, struggling to remember abundance or to have the strength to choose it, day upon day. And I felt like such a fraud … teaching what I was struggling to do/be!

And what I wrote recently about coming to see my life-mission as being peace, being stillness, being a healing presence? Certainly, there’s truth there, regarding that as a calling, but how it was presently showing up in my spirit?? Mmm, not so much maybe! Even when I published the post, I was thinking, my dear girl, this won’t ring right  … because right now, your energy, your spirit doesn’t match these words!

I certainly wasn’t feeling like I was a healing presence, because I definitely didn’t feel still or serene within. I was aching, hurting, grieving, feeling lonely, unsupported, burdened, overwhelmed.

It’s not been an easy year by any stretch … yes, there has been much blessing, but a profound collection of losses, and an accumulation of layers of grief and sorrow.
The specters of depression sprang up … anger, fear, shame, despair, loneliness. Self-pity, resentment. Seeds I didn’t want, didn’t want to water. They made it difficult for me to remember abundance, to choose it … and they’ve caused me to begin redefining what choosing abundance looks like, in different circumstances. How does one draw abundance from dark emotions? It’s a (lonely) labor of love!
And I’ve tried, oh, I’ve tried to remember abundance in this hard, valley season … if it was hard to choose it, at least to remember it! To remember the gift of belovedness.
I’ve tried to nurture my spiritual practices, and let them nurture me. I’ve tried to rest in this posture, difficult as it is (more of my words that came back to me).

In all of that, I think the theme of this year has become redefining! Redefining – and refining.

Redefining myself, redefining my spirituality/spiritual practice, redefining my intentions and expectations. Redefining abundance and what choosing abundance looks like.

Redefining even the act of defining things, learning to let go of my need to define things!

Redefining everything …

There was the divorce … and learning to live life as a single, working mom (while continuing grad school!). And I’ll not sugarcoat it – it’s been hard and deeply overwhelming. Yes, sometimes such a triumphant feeling to realize what I can do and what I can handle, but also – overwhelming!
And yet, so many big decisions to make on my own and so many responsibilities and obligations (like, managing finances alone!), and so much uncertainty, and so much on my plate …  and so little time!
The busyness and fullness of my life – on one hand, satisfying, and yet on the other, feeling like it robbed me of friendship and connection time.
A cold and searing loneliness confronted me.
And the voice of poverty told me that I didn’t have enough support, care, love, affirmation …. but oh, how it told untruths! I do know that, because the voice of abundance brought again to my heart the many beautiful things that dear friends have done for me, big and small:

  •                 the friend who got a family photography session gifted to me
  •                 the friend who organized a clothing drive for my children at the beginning of the school year (and the generous response to that)
  •                 the long phone conversations with one friend
  •                 the friend who sat with me as I cried in shock after losing my job earlier in the year
  •                 the friends who have picked up my son from middle school several times when I was working
  •                 the kind, loving words here and there that have added up to a sweet bouquet

Too, there was also the felt weight of withdrawal in some long-time friendships (from my past church), heavier in my heart as silences made the sense of emotional distancing more tangible. This weight has lightened, though.

Redefining friendships, connection, sisterhood, community … learning what my village looks like. It might not look like what someone else’s looks like, or the ideas that society and social media have given me, but it doesn’t need to! If I open my heart, if I see with different eyes, if I look right next to me, it’s there … you’re there! Friendships, community, sisterhood – they are for me just as they need to be for me for this season. And are enough, if I let them be!

And then there was my first girlfriend experience, and then a break-up. To be clear, it was a special experience, rich in many ways! I’m thankful for what I learned from her and the relationship, but the break-up really rocked me.

Redefining love-relationship needs and desires … learning to be content unpartnered, for now.

Then, I lost one job – but found another, one that has been good for me in so many ways. Loss = gain.

Redefining my professional value and competence. 

Hopes humbled and dreams deferred …  A niche that I had had the idea that I might fill, but became clear didn’t belong to me. Some dreams and passions that I had to say goodbye to, at least in the form I had envisioned them.

It turned out to be a long, hard goodbye, and it’s been hard to find the hellos that follow the goodbyes. Even though I know about letting go gracefully of that which is not meant for me, and that letting go of old possibilities opens up new opportunities, I still felt the deep sting of loss, all the way into my core.

And it shook me, badly, unexpectedly. It stirred up resentments and fears that surprised me with their presence and power. I think it showed the depth of my attachment to those expectations and ideas, too.

(So much for learning to practice non-attachment! This quote comes to mind: The mark of a moderate woman is freedom from her own ideas. Alas, I am not (yet) a moderate woman, then! But it’s a life goal!)

I’d made the mistake of attaching my identity to my idea of what my role, my calling was. I’d tied my sense of belongingness to it. So, I felt unmoored  … another loss, another grief. One I didn’t really receive with grace or gratitude, I tell you!

Redefining calling, role, identity. And – letting go of the need to be defined by them.

So yes, the last while, loneliness and grief have been familiar companions.  So familiar I simply decided to befriend them and make peace with them. (I think that’s how you draw what abundance and healing there is to draw from them, anyway!)

I know that this is the holiday time, the season of joy to the world and peace on earth, and it’s not festive to speak of loneliness and grief and sorrow – but these are also a part of the holiday experience for many, because they’re a part of the human experience.

Redefining the value and reality of grief and loneliness.

Don’t get me wrong, I do know joy still, I know there’s a place of joy deep in the center of my being; I know there’s light within! There’s still stillness …

Redefining ideas and expectations about being stillness, being peace, being a healing presence.

I have learned and am learning still that I need not judge myself for not always knowing equanimity and stillness. There’s no need to define myself by the presence or absence of any emotion or experience. I’m human – part of being human is feeling deep pain, experiencing grief, sorrow, loneliness, dark emotions. As I’ve written before (more words that keep coming back for me!) sorrow is a sacred part of belovedness. So is grief. So is loneliness.

Redefining my whole emotional experience.

Redefining my journey, my story.

Redefining everything …  refining everything. Being refined.

Further and deeper, learning to let some things be undefined … learning to let the journey and the experience be as it is, in this moment, this season!

 

 

sorrowfulness, a sacred part of belovedness

/ Lanae / 2 Comments Featured

Yes, this little space has been echoing silence  …

As it’s said, there’s a time to be silent and a time to speak.

When it was a time to speak, I spoke boldly and passionately about what was deep in my heart and soul, about mindfulness and justice, about owning the truth and living the truth.  About Belovedness, as not just ‘my truth,’ but a deep Truth, a Truth for all!

But then it was a time for silence … and as I’ve learned, knowing when to hold space for silence is an important – perhaps the most important – part of finding your voice and knowing how to use it well, with love and truth.

It’s a time of sorrowfulness, of grief, both personally and communally, and silence, stillness, seemed the most necessary for the healing and health of my heart and soul …

So I embarked on what has felt like a lonely journey, practicing silence, speaking, writing less. It has felt like being in exile, a chosen exile and a redeeming one, but still …

I thought, why should I write/share these days, anyway? When sorrowfulness is so strong in me … I cannot write of belovedness in the same way, and if I write of sorrowfulness and grief, doesn’t that seem contrary to belovedness, to the message of belovedness? When I write of saying “YES!” to belovedness, but then I write of knowing sorrowfulness and feeling intense grief, being in deep mourning, doesn’t that sound like a “NO!”?

Does it seem joy-making, gratitude-inspiring, hope-spreading? Which truly is what I want to do and be!

But here is a truth I cannot deny about myself:

I am one well acquainted with sorrow, with grief. One who knows suffering. Who knows the suffering of others, feels it in her bones, in the inward marrow, in the heart-center. Yes,  I have an apprenticeship with sorrow … yet I also now have an apprenticeship with belovedness.

Oh yes, wild sorrow and wild belovedness, I know these both.  I know the darkness of sorrow, but also its light; the light of Belovedness, but also its darkness. I know this wildness, and if there is any edge on which I live, it is this edge.

It is not quite a safe wildness, no, but yet – I am secure, because I am anchored, I am grounded in belovedness. My soul is safe, my ego is not, and this is as it should be.

The wildness of being fully alive … fully, deeply, intensely, powerfully alive in, with, and through sorrowfulness and Belovedness both!

And another truth:

The other part of Belovedness, is this sorrowfulness, this grief-fullness – the yin/yang, the both/and.

Sorrowfulness IS another part of belovedness! Grief and mourning ARE a part of belovedness.

They are a part of a full, deep, rich “Yes!” to belovedness.

What is belovedness without sorrowfulness? What is belovedness without honoring and holding sorrowfulness? Sorrowfulness is a part of the wholeness of belovedness, part of its wholeness and richness of meaning.

Belovedness contains joy and sorrow. Goodness and suffering. Grace and grief. Peace and pain. Hope and  despair.  Abundance and loss. Groundedness and uncertainty. Wholeness and brokenness.

Having awareness of them all within us, within each other, is important, vitally important. Knowing how to give space to and to hold space for them is fundamental to knowing our own both/andness, our completeness, our aliveness as human beings.

It’s not about embracing either belovedness or sorrowfulness … it’s about embracing both and being taught by both.

Belovedness teaches compassion, empathy … it can crack your heart wide open, to feel and know the sorrow and the suffering in the world, to make it a real rather than an abstract understanding … and move you to loving action.

Sorrowfulness, grief, loss, exile. Belovedness gives the grace and strength to face them. They must be allowed, respected, honored, given space … if there is to be a full healing of the body and soul, heart and mind.

So much soul-sickness and suffering comes when grief and sorrow are not given space to be, to be known, to be tended. Not only to individuals, but also to communities and nations.

Here is our country, our society, its psyche deeply, gravely wounded, reeling from profound losses and traumas,  facing and fearing change …  fear seems to be a common ground we share, wherever we stand.

Underlying it all, I sense the vastness of an unheeded sorrow, an untended grief, feeding the fear, the anger, the despair; giving root to the seeds of violence and suffering.

I see a society that doesn’t know how to grieve, give space for sorrow.  That doesn’t have a healthy relationship with pain, grief, or sorrow – and thus perhaps not a healthy relationship with grace, goodness, or belovedness either, then.

What is happening in our society (in our world?) is a breaking wide open … there is so much pain pouring out. It overwhelms me with sorrow and grief, a sense of deep spiritual loss, death, darkness.

And yet, in this breaking open, belovedness teaches me to see hope – that with all the pain and sorrow rising so visibly to the surface, perhaps we will learn, together, how to give space to sorrow and pain. Perhaps we can learn together the gift and the grace of grief …

I know that Belovedness is teaching me how to have a healthy relationship with sorrow, to bind grief with grace, to give space to mourning   … the gift of great losses and heart-rending choices and experiences is that I am being given the opportunity and the space to learn how to grieve, how to see and know the grace in grief.

A gift that perhaps I can learn how to share, even to fashion into part of my life’s work  … the blessedness in sorrowfulness and the sacred work of grief, and their beautiful oneness with Belovedness.

************************************************************

What if we allowed ourselves to be better acquainted with grief, with sorrow, to not fear or shame them, but to welcome them? To work with and through them, to find meaning and hope in them? Would restoration and renewal come? Would we become whole, in ourselves, as a nation, as a world?