Ancestral energy lives in the stars above us, the stones beneath us. Their memory gathers in oceans, rivers and seas. It hums its silent wisdom within the body of every tree.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Death Grief Love

I’m at a familiar place in my life. Someone I love is nearer the end of their battle than the beginning of the fight. At the same time, I am juggling that knowledge against hope. I am sending prayers for healing out, because I believe in miracles. After all, I have read enough historical battles to know that the tide can turn, even moments after its possibility diminishes.
I have been here before, and will be here again, and in that, I am not alone. I came home the day after our Solstice celebration to a new blog post from artist/performer Amanda Palmer, about sitting vigil at the bedside of a close and beloved friend. She captured the surreal quality of standing on that edge of life and death.
I’m sharing the link to her post in the hopes that you go and read her words for me this week. The reverence alone, in how they cared for their dying friend, is moving and courageous. To look into the face of death takes courage. And the gifts are innumerable.
When I finished it, I was crying because she had captured words for emotions I had never been able to. And my heart was singing out: This is what death looks like. This is what grief looks like. This is what love looks like.

1 comment:

  1. Damn... This, in particular, resonated with me,

    "we sat there and meditated for a while, then stretched our backs. the sun blazed through the windows. it was like we had stolen our own private little wake.

    "when christine died," he said, "we left her body out for two days, so everybody could come by and be with her."

    "i'm so glad we got out of the hospital," i said. "there's no time to say goodbye like this, there's no space for it."

    we'd been talking about that the night screwed up the new systems are, how we're all so far from death and life and birth all the time because we no longer live in tribes and villages and close quarters. it used to be that there was always someone around dying, and someone around being born, and it rolled out right in front of your eyes, this great cycle of life, instead of being hidden in locked, poorly-lit buildings with visiting hours."


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