Nothing in Life is certain. Nothing. No thing. No situation. No circumstance. No. Nothing...
One month ago the world was torn from beneath my feet and I was sent tumbling down into the abyss. Yesterday was exactly one month. I thought it was today but then, well, I believe I am still stumbling for certainty. Bumping around, looking for some solid ground. Something that might look like somthing to count on. So I got the date wrong.
Falling from one's world, or perhaps better put, having one's world fall away is of course at first traumatic. And the ensuing grieving process rocks things a bit as well. But after time, say, a month, one starts to recognize that this once traumatically different reality than one oh-so-recently knew is becoming the norm. Is becoming the foundation upon which the new world will grow. And, being new at seeing the world from this perspective, things look extremely unpredictable and unknowable. Fear is here.
The other day I did a meditation about this and found that I was in the middle of the Forest of Unknowing in my meditation. So I went with that, because, hey, it's where I was/am. So, in this forest, there are pits and spiders who spin webs that cast spells upon me that keep me unclear. (I wrote about it last week.) I've been in that forest for over a week now. I managed in subsequent meditations to clothe myself using the one thing I found myself to be carrying, my prayer flags. ("Wisdom" is on my back, "Peace" on my chest, "Love" is on my right arm, "courage" on my left, "harmony" on my belly, the others all flow about my legs as I wander or cover my feet as I sit, being, in the middle of the Forest of Unknowing) I also managed to build a sacred garden alongside the Forest for times when I needed light and life and comfort during meditations. But always, I return to the center of the Forest of Unknowing.
This is perhaps the hardest part of trauma, waiting for the healing to take it's own course at it's own pace. BEING in the center of the BIG NEW UNKNOWN is the HARDEST thing. And the world cooperates with finding alternatives, distractions, old patterns, new addictions, dramatic tapes, so, sitting and BEING is the HARDEST and the loneliest thing.
Today, my mother flew in from the Midwest for a two week stay. I haven't been able to express to her what this means to me. Really, it allows me respite from the devastation of the new loneliness. It doesn't take away the loneliness. I am still utterly alone in my Forest of Unknowing. But there is less desparation in my breathing. As if the synchronis shared rhythm of two breaths in the house embrace and stroke the lonely woman in the Forest like a warm and comforting breeze,... while she waits.
We talked much about art tonight. I am very aware that what I am experiencing WILL change me. As a person and as an artist, my life is and will be very affected. There is the unknown. The Fear here is that somehow I will be damaged, stymied, or even paralyzed by what is going on in my life. It's possible. Trauma has had that effect on me before.
So, what are my tools for dealing with Fear? Do I carry them as I sit or wander in the Forest of Unknowing?I think perhaps some meditation upon the tools would be good. I am a Fierce Lover and a kickass painter and fiber artist. What would I carry?
A paint brush
A needle and thread
Water and food to sustain me
I used to literally climb mountains. The world dropping out from under me just increases the height of the mountain before me. One step at a time the path through the Forest of Unknowing leads upwards and eventually out of the darkness. A listening awareness and appreciation for the journey will bring gifts along the way. The from-time-to-time company of loved ones too will bring gifts and sustenance. But the work is mine to do and so is the BEING.