Three Years In

Hi Michael,
   Mom here. Three years in, and it's still so hard living with this experience of a mother losing a child. No doubt there have been difficult circumstances in previous lives as well, but still, this is a tough one. I miss you so much.

   How are you doing? Are you considering coming back soon or do you need more time? I have no idea what the space between lives looks like. Maybe you'll still be there when I return.

   Thank you for continuing to stay close and helping me see the signs. The need to know you are near is still strong. I know you were watching earlier this week while I played some of your favourite music, loudly. A playlist compiled by your friends, largely made up of songs I had not heard before your death. I felt deeply connected to you while listening to the lyrics, which had spoken to you, and were now speaking to me. And once my tears had given way to dancing, I could see you smiling, and dancing too.
Love Mom ♥ 

More Feathers

Late afternoon last Friday, I placed my yoga mat under a maple tree in the far corner of the yard.  I had never set up over there, but on this day, it was the only spot that felt private.  Although it had been warm out earlier, by the time I sat down it had cooled off significantly and I considered moving indoors.  However, with the long range forecast calling for rain and lower temperatures, I realized that it could be quite some time 'til I could practise outdoors again so I grabbed a blanket, and began.  Within moments I noticed a small, white feather drifting down, eventually coming to rest on the grass nearby.  Soon after, a second white feather appeared, undulating - dancing softly in the breeze, like a scene out of Forrest Gump.  After crossing directly in front of me, it continued on at eye level, passing under the branches and eventually travelling beyond my field of vision.  It had been many months, possibly even a year, since I had last seen this special sign, and I smiled at the loving message from spirit.  Earlier in the week, I had asked Michael to please show me a physical sign of his presence, to remind me that his essence was still close, and now, here it was.  As my poses flowed from one to another, I repeatedly heard the message: remember to keep your perspective broad and open, rather than narrow and closed - you will feel lighter and more content.  I interpreted this to be a reference to living with his passing, but of course, it applies to everything in life.  So richly rewarded for my decision to remain outdoors.

Precious Days

Exhausted and content, I reflect on another precious day spent with my fourteen month old granddaughter.  Once a week, she and I enjoy an entire day together - just us two.  We have the luxury of being in the moment - no schedule, nothing that must get done.  We observe the birds descending onto the backyard feeders, attempting to mimic their songs.  We stroll to the park for a ride on the swing, stopping to smell flowers and touch leaves on the trees along the way.  We visit Boal Memorial, blowing kisses to Uncle Mike and Kelly.  We pick salmonberries, huckleberries, and strawberries, delighting in them all.  We snuggle up on the couch, reading books from her special cupboard in the den.  We get soaked during water play, with cups and a filled tub on the grass, pausing to watch the occasional helicopter fly overhead.  We wander down to the suspension bridge, crossing it hand in hand, 70 metres above the river - she, at times, stopping to dance.  So sweet, so lovable, so alive - my heart nearly bursting in her presence.

Ribbons of Life

When contemplating our existence, I frequently see dancing ribbons. An image that has repeatedly appeared in my mind's eye.  All of us shown as beautiful thin bands of richly coloured silk.  Drifting horizontally beside, below, above one another.  Unaware of any beginning or end.  Each ribbon representing a spirit's path over many lifetimes.  Interacting with each other in wavelike motions.  At times moving closer.  Periodically touching.  Followed by floating a little further apart.  Experiencing the space.  An oft repeated cycle.  Weaving a dynamic tapestry together. 

Day of the Dead

An intriguing festival.  Day of the Dead.  Countries around the world celebrating memories of their deceased family and friends today. National holiday for some.  Creating altars with offerings of food and symbolic tokens for departed spirits.  Visiting relatives' graves, candles and flowers in hand.  Reciting funny stories, dancing, and eating sugar skulls.   Slight variations on the same theme depending on where it is being celebrated.   However, the overriding sentiment the same. Predominantly festive atmosphere full of colour and life.  In stark contrast to the prevailing attitude to death here in this part of the world. Primarily one of fear and separation.  Imagining immersion in a culture joyfully celebrating this day.  With such a healthy perspective. Receiving such pleasure just thinking about it.

The Dance

I feel as if I am dancing, lightly stepping from one foot to the other. Of this world, and then not. Continually moving back and forth between my spiritual understanding and human condition.  At times, I am convinced that if I were to stop, I would fall into that deep abyss that lies in wait.  Hence, I continue to dig deeply and muster the strength I need in order to keep on dancing.