The Longing of Our Wounds - Matt Licata

Healing can't just be conceptual.  It's not a matter of thinking
differently, more "positively", or even more "spiritually" -
orbiting around the wound with our favorite metaphysical
beliefs, ideas and fantasies.

It's not clear thinking, or even "awareness" that can reach into
the wound and reorganize it. These can all be supportive, of
course, but in the end, healing is experiential, somatic, and
embodied.

While the wound is open, while it's activated and online,
there's a way in that moment that it's weeping.

That weeping, those tears that emerge from inside the wound,
these are emanations of a vital process in alchemy called solutio.

There's a dissolving that must occur in order for transmutation
to unfold.

In that moment of open weeping, the wound presents itself to
be reorganized, to receive something which has been missing,
something the wound has been longing for.

Not just the wound in some abstract way, but the longing of the
little one, the lost orphan of the psyche and soma who has been
carrying that burden of trauma, of aloneness, of unbearable 
emotional pain on our behalf for so long.

That longing, that yearning in the heart is to receive what has
been unavailable..., and what was missing at the
time the trauma became embedded.  
What that is, is love...
The healing medicine is love...

Matt Licata

~

For those still traumatized by 

9-11-2001

Blessings of Love

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Feel What You Feel - Fred LaMotte

I don't need you to change me.

Just help me Be
who I am.

It is good
and very good for me
to feel precisely what I feel,
this cloud of grief,
this downpour of despair,
without any names or notes
to self.

Only let me dissolve
in a healing rain
that penetrates all my shadows.
A liquid sliver of sun may arise
on the jagged edge of mourning.

Or not...

Now I can feel everything
because I have tasted
the night.

How a bud bursts, spilling
beauty from its wound.

How the chrysalis shatters,
frees the golden
moth from her season
of uncertainty.
How a single tear
becomes the sky.

Fred LaMotte

Uradiance

~

These are difficult times for the Earth and a lot of people 
on the Earth now are suffering. There's a density intensity
on the planet now.  I feel it.  It is difficult to be
"lighthearted" and celebratory when so many people are
suffering.  The Earth itself and the people on it are unsettled,
and many are in darkness within, affecting the whole Cosmos -
the whole order of life.

What brings you to your knees?
What causes you to suffer inside?

What happened to empathy for those who are suffering in our midst?

My neighbor hung himself in his garage over a month ago.  No one
knew he was suffering.  Now his wife suffers.

Those who suffer do not need "fixing."
They need our heart...

_/\_
Namaste

MM

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

"Sacred Silence"...

I come to sit - called by "The Silence" within -
to rest in the deep Core of my Being,
my refuge...

to listen to the "Sacred Silence" of an Alive Cosmos;
to be held in that Rhythm ~ the in-breath and out-breath
of Life...

Lately,
I come to sit - to mourn the losses of life
and losses of ways of life in a a troubled world;
to mourn the living and the dead,
for the suffering they have endured;
for the collective grief - 
unending grief...

But mostly,
I come to sit - to feel the depths of Sacred Silence;
to be immersed in the vast Stillness of the Inner Cosmos;
to lay the burdens of the heart down -
and just rest...

Held and supported by the Universe in
some mysterious way...

Mystic Meandering
March 20, 2022

~

Photo from the Internet

 

The Dakini Speaks - Jennifer Welwood

My friends...
Let's stop pretending we don't know the deal here.
Or if we truly haven't noticed, let's wake up and notice.
Look: Everything that can be lost, will be lost.
It's simple - how could we have missed it for so long?
Let's grieve our losses fully, like ripe human beings,
But please. let's not be so shocked by them.
Let's not act so betrayed,
As though life had broken her secret promise to us.
Impermanence is life's only promise to us,
And she keeps it with ruthless impeccability.
To a child she seems cruel, but she is only wild,
And her compassion exquisitely precise:
Brilliantly penetrating, luminous with truth,
She strips away the unreal to show us the real.

This is the true ride - let's give ourselves to it!
Let's stop making deals for safe passage:
There isn't one anyway, and the cost is too high.
We are not children anymore...

Give everything for what cannot be lost...

Jennifer Welwood

~

Personal Note: I had to look up what a Dakini is :)
A Dakini, in the Tibetan tradition means "sky dancer/walker"
and is a tantric deity that might best be described as a female
embodiment of enlightened energy.  Dakinis are energetic
being in female form, evocative of the movement of
energy in space.

~

Photo Art - Mystic Meandering

Primal Energy

 

Grief is Sacred - Francis Weller

No one escapes suffering in this life.
None of us is exempt from loss, pain, illness and death.
How is it that we have so little understanding of these
essential experiences?  How is it that we have attempted to
keep grief separated from our lives and only begrudgingly
acknowledge its presence at the most obvious times, such
as a funeral?

'If sequestered pain made a sound,' Stephen Levine says,
'the atmosphere would be humming all the time.'

It is the accumulated losses of a lifetime that slowly weigh
us down - the times of rejection, the moments of isolation
when we felt cut off from the sustaining touch of comfort
and love.  It is an ache that resides in the heart, the faint echo
calling us back to the times of loss.  We are called back, not
so much to make things right, but to acknowledge what
happened to us.

Grief asks that we honor the loss and, in doing so, deepen
our capacity for compassion.  When grief remains unexpected,
however, it hardens, becomes as solid as stone.  We, in turn,
become rigid and stop moving in rhythm with the soul...

When our grief stagnates, we become fixed in place, unable
to move and dance with the flow of life.  Grief is part of
the dance.

As we begin to pay attention, we notice that grief is never 
far from our awareness.  We become aware of the many ways
it arrives in our daily lives.  It is the blue mood that greets us
upon waking.  It is the melancholy that shades the day in
muted tones.  It is the recognition of time's passing, the slow
emptying of our days.  It is the searing pain that erupts when
someone close to us dies....  It is the confounding grief when
our life circumstances are shattered by the unexpected.....

It is essential for us to welcome our grief, whatever form it
takes. When we do, we open ourselves to our shared
experiences in life. Opening to our sorrow connects us with
everyone, everywhere.  There is no gesture of kindness that is
wasted, no offering of compassion that is useless. 
We can be generous to every sorrow we see.
It is sacred work.

Francis Weller
from - The Wild Edge of Sorrow

with thanks to The Beauty We Love

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Because We Are Human - Dr. Jacqui Lewis

I think grief puts us in touch with our vulnerabilities.
I think the feeling of grief lets us know the power of wounds
to shape our stories.  I think it lets us know how capable we
are of having our hearts broken and our feelings hurt.

I think it lets us know the link that we each have because we're
human.  Because we're human, we hurt.  Because we're human,
we have tears to cry.  Because we're human, our hearts are
broken.  Because we're human, we understand that loss is a
universal language.  Everybody grieves.

All humanity grieves,  All of us have setbacks, broken dreams.
All of us have broken relationships or unrealized possibilities.
All of us have bodies that just don't do what they used to do.
Though grief is personal, every person grieves.

Dr. Jacqui Lewis

With thanks to The Beauty We Love

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Grief as it is - Joan Didion

 Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it.
We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die,
but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that
immediately follow such an imagined death.  We misconstrue
the nature of even those few days or weeks.

We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock.  We do
not expect the shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both
body and mind.  We might expect that we will be prostrate,
inconsolable, crazy with loss.  We do not expect to be
literally crazy, cool customers who believe that their husband
 is about to return and need his shoes.

In the version of grief we imagine, the model will be "healing." 
A certain forward movement will prevail.  The worst days will
be the earliest days.  We imagine that the moment to most
severely test us will be the funeral, after which the hypothetical
healing will take place.  When we anticipate the funeral we
wonder about failing to "get through it," rise to the occasion,
exhibit the "strength" that invariably gets mentioned as the
correct response to death.

We anticipate needing to steel ourselves for the moment: will I

be able to greet people, will I be able to leave the scene, will I
be able even to get dressed that day?  We have no way of
knowing that this will not be the issue.  We have no way of 
knowing that the funeral itself will be anodyne, a kind of
narcotic regression in which we are wrapped in the care of
others and the gravity and meaning of the occasion.

Nor can we know ahead of of the fact (and here lies the
heart of the difference between grief as we imagine it
and grief as it is) the unending absence that follows, the
void, the very opposite of meaning, the relentless succession
of moments during which we will confront the experience
of meaninglessness itself.

Joan Didion
From: The Year of Magical Thinking
with thanks to Death Deconstructed

Joan suddenly lost her husband from a heart attack as they
 sat down to dinner after being at the hospital with their
deathly ill daughter.

~

Personal Note: My mother suddenly lost my father to a fatal
heart attack back in 1985, just 7 yrs after quintuple by-pass surgery.
 He was sitting in his chair in the living room in the middle of the
 night, unable to sleep, after returning from a road trip to the
 east coast to see family - which evidently proved to be too
stressful for his heart. My mother had gone to bed and dreamed
 that she had lost her right arm.  She woke up at around 3am to
find him dead in his chair...  Attempts to resuscitate him failed.
She basically sleep-walked through the next year, often
standing in the kitchen watching for his car to come down
the dirt road...  I can't imagine what that must have been like,
although I have known grief from many other kinds of losses...
And the world now continues in a collective grief from
the millions of deaths due to COVID... So many lives
impacted...  No matter what our "spiritual" beliefs are
about death, or whether there is life after death or not...
 we are still all impacted by death or loss both
personally and collectively...

~

Photo from the Internet