Curve in the Road

When life throws you a curve
and you cannot fathom why...
Why is this happening?
What can possibly be the purpose?

Remember...
it is what we all have to face
in one way or another.

No matter how threatening it feels,
inner strength you didn't know you had,
will come forth and surprise you.

The valiant soul you are
will surpass you and uphold you
when you are feeling overcome.

So hang on....
all things pass.

And, when your heart is thrilled with new results, celebrate.
Celebrate with all your heart.

Savor the gifts that life offers.
Cherish the things you hadn't noticed before;
the air you breathe,
the water slapping at the shore,
the soft cloud in the sky,
the little kids playing in the park,
purring of a kitten.
the sound of a quietly strummed guitar,
laughter,
crying,
and yes, the neighbors dog

There’s something in it all you missed before.
Now you have the chance.

Take it moment to moment.

You know now the foolishness
the folly, the petty ways you'll leave behind.

You have struggled to come out of your cocoon.
You have worked hard,
You have released yourself
from the things that kept you locked up.
You have traveled beyond that curve...

Now free yourself,
and fly into that new zest for life you rightfully earned.

Have some peace of mind...
Remember you have triumphed.
You are stronger than before.

You have gained appreciation
for those things of which you were unaware
and cherish the challenges that brought you to this new place.

Elizabeth Munroz
Aug 29 2006

Saying Good-Bye

If we are traditional, there are fixed ideas we have about death where I live, except perhaps with cremation. We have the body made up so that the deceased looks healthy and happy, as much as possible. We have a viewing where friends and family come and share time with the deceased to say goodbye. We give eulogies, share stories of his or her life, how our lives were affected by this person.

Recently, I've realized that all the ritual we have regarding death of our loved ones is very much to honor them. It also helps us with our grief since it gives us comfort in our bereavement. The idea in our society that death is negative derives from the fact that we will miss that person who died, that there is an empty space in our heart that needs to be filled with something else to replace the fact that he or she will not return.

If one is not present when the death occurs, there is a sense of not having had the opportunity to say goodbye, therefore the ritual of viewing the body. Dressing our loved one in favorite clothing, and physical features made to look healthy and happy can provide a sense of completion. We may tell ourselves, the loved one is no longer inhabiting the body, but still, we want to revere the receptacle which housed the soul we will miss so much.

In our grief, thinking rationally may not be a high priority, and spending money on a satin lined coffin, for example, has everything to do with how much we wish to provide comfort.

Though we might understand that the body, nor the being that once inhabited it, will physically benefit from lying on a cushioned bed surrounded with lovely pleated fabric, we have the need for ourselves to symbolically swaddle the one we loved as we may have in life.

Have you ever offered a friend your coat when they were cold? Shared a blanket? Done something, anything, to help the loved one be more comfortable? Seems to me this is our one last attempt to do the same thing when we say goodbye.

Soul Watcher

In that moment of disconnecting from the body, the clarity returned. We could be with each other, equally sharing the Knowing. Memorizing it to carry forward.

We designed the fulfillment of the our goal through many lifetimes to gain enlightenment, not just for ourselves but also others whether they remembered or not. And soon it would be time for us to join again, permanently, if we could just get you to come through this next time in connection with your remembering.

Then all to soon it was time for you to sleep.

So quickly the knowing gets murky. But, of course that is the way it is. We take our chances when the will is stronger than the seeker within. The will blocks direct communication. It has to make the choice to open to the seeker. I could only let you sleep and return to my Light studies until you were ready.

I remember when first we met this time around. You in the mist, curled like a little seedling, dreaming of this world, then letting it lift you until it fell away. Yes, even then a part of you was ready to leave. You began floating along in the warmth of the darkness.

I wanted to tell you then, how things would be, but I knew you would have to find out for yourself.

It was my job to protect you and guide you. And you were in no state to be approached with the Knowledge. I wished I could tell you. But you had to re-discover it for yourself.

Most every one has an idea that includes the sense of the protector, the messenger, the guardian angel. So many times you saw masculinity as divine. It was natural that was what you expect me to fulfill.

I was just your soul watcher as you had been mine. I took the form you needed... we needed... to join as one in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Digital art by Elizabeth Munroz

Vase Gazing

It was like having a well-trained dog whining at the door with a leash in his mouth insisting you take him out for relief. I felt so unsettled. I must do something! Anything... to finish unpacking from my move. So, I grabbed the box sitting nearby. It was full of fine glass vases in different colors.

Collecting beautiful glass vases just so that I can set them in a windowsill sans flowers has been a hobby of mine for many years. My mother collected them passed some on to me to start my own collection. I like to gaze at the colors when light shines through them. I find vase gazing soothing to my soul.

I didn't realize it at the time, but this collection created a significant bond between my ex-roommate and I. When I first moved into Helen’s home, I asked if I could line up my vases in her huge living room window. She didn’t mind, but was surprised that I had such a collection. She had never heard of such a thing, and thought it a little odd that I only liked to look at the bright colors and not put flowers in my vases.

As time passed, I added more to the collection until the sill was crammed tightly with them. Shortly before I was to move to my new apartment, we had a yard sale and I culled many from my collection to sell. 

I sat up the night before, pricing them, as I packed away the keepers, leaving the window bereft. It made quite an impact on both of us the next morning as we noticed how drab that corner of the room had become without the emanating rainbow of color. During the yard sale Helen gathered up my culled vases and insisted on buying them from me, then put them up in her window. "Where they belong." She said.

AUNTIE ANGST

She stood in the grove 
emptying her heart
into the darkness,
crying out to the trees.

Oh, hear me! Help me!
I am your little child,
a crone before my time.
My youth has been stolen from me
betrayed by the revolutions of the earth
My heart beats only acid through my veins.
like cities choked with carbon dioxide.
I am the desolated forests of the summer fires.
Nothing left but ashes.

Yet, the crone limps away
beneath the moon, tottering...
the pain of over-ripe decline
prematurely stabs
like some ancient soldier
hacking at the enemy
with a heavy sword.
She sits, quietly breathing,
ignoring the pain with resolve.

I smile... talk... laugh with others
and no one knows what is gnawing
like some unseen dragon
crunching my bones.
The physical pain is bearable,
even the searing fire in my veins.
But the pain in my outraged spirit
is wailing and ranting across the galaxies
as it hurls itself further out into the cosmos
searching for peace 
and a shred of hope.

~~~~~

Digital art and poem by Elizabeth Munroz

If You Could See Me Now

Perhaps there is nothing supernatural about death.
Perhaps there is.

Some believe that when it is over, it is over. The body dies, there is nobody home.

Some believe that the soul or spirit of a person leaves the body and moves on to another place. Heaven, or the next life, or some ghostly realm or into the ether as molecules, or ???

Obviously, we don't have all the answers. For me, it comes down to personal choice of what I want to believe, regardless of what someone else tells me that I should believe based on their interpretations.

Found a website some time ago where a woman wrote a letter or poem to her sister. It is a Christian oriented site and it is beautifully done. The song accompanying it is, "If You Could See Me Now" by Kim Noblett, and the lyrics are the first part of the web page. The second part has a letter written to the caregiver of the woman who died (I think).

I like the part that says:

"Speak often to me, for I am just a whisper away and I will hear and answer you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dedicated to three beloved people who passed away last month, and their bereaved families.

Bambi, the pure white cat

I adopted Bambi on my birthday to come live with me, Jeffery, and Ninja. She is a sweet but feisty soul!