In order to enter the world you wish to know, you must first bid goodbye to the world you already know. The old saying goes that you cannot grasp something new with a hand that is already holding something. You have to let go first.
Today was one of those letting go. It was the last time with the YOU, for at least a while, who knows how long. We don’t know, that’s the whole point. Or maybe we don’t want to admit to ourselves that it’s another ending, so we pretend that it isn’t, that we’ll be back and things will pick right back up where we left off. Or maybe that’s just me pretending, and everyone else already knows the truth.
The YOU did a lovely ritual which I’d never seen before. They started in a circle, with a ball of yarn. One person holds the yarn and shares a memory, a story, something about their time knowing Martin and I. Then, keeping the end of the yarn in their hand, they toss the ball to someone else in the circle, who tells a story, holds the yarn in their hands and tosses the ball to the next person. Soon strands of yarn criss-cross the circle, connecting each person to all the other people in the circle as they connect with their words and stories. Lastly the ball comes to Martin and I, and we say a few words to let them know how much they mean to us. As is usual for me, the words feel inadequate to describe the depth of emotion I am experiencing. Then, scissors are produced, and the strands are cut, leaving pieces of yarn that we each keep. Mine is tied around my right wrist right now, and Martin has his on his left wrist. It is the physical reminder of the love and the stories and the memories of each of the people that we now carry with us.
Just writing these words I want to weep all over again. Why must there be so much letting go? I feel at sea, all these leave-takings. More are coming in the next few days. I want to ask the Universe why this is necessary, why it’s so painful. This should be full of joy and peace and excitement, right? I should be feeling only positive feelings…why is it I want to curl up into a ball and nurse my wounds and my fears and shut out the world for a while.
I worry I’m not doing this right, that I’m not feeling the way I’m supposed to feel. But who decides what I’m supposed to be feeling?
One promise I made to myself when I started this blog was to always be truthful about how I’m feeling. No lies, no varnish. So the unvarnished truth is right now I’m feeling lost and ungrounded. I don’t think I realized how much my spiritual community grounded me and gave me a place of shelter. Now I feel all at sea without that touchstone.
It is so nice though, to be loved and appreciated and told so. I don’t do it enough. I am so grateful for the expressions of love and well-wishes we received today and I feel so blessed and fortunate for the people who shared them. We are truly blessed to be so loved.
Later this evening we had a stimulating and exciting and interesting meeting at the Light Center, which I will blog about tomorrow. Tonight I am feeling my feelings, and trying to remember that they are only feelings and that it is alright to have them.
The world moves quickly, and I can only try to keep up. Things are happening fast–the pace is starting to pick up in the lead-up to our flight on the 15th. I’ll have more for you tomorrow. But tonight, I am loving and grieving. And asking for peace. And knowing how blessed I am, how supported, how perfect the timing and the events were and are and continue to be.