Meditations for Miracles #2

Yesterday's meditation:


The Softness of Acceptance

Sometimes there are no satisfactory answers.
Sometimes life makes no sense.
Sometimes you must sit with unknowing.
It may seem as if everything you have ever known has left you.
Somple numbers don't compute.
The earth isn't round anymore.
There is no reason to eat.
There is no reason not to eat.
There is no reason.
As you sit with this unknowing and stop trying to figure things out, a slow comfort begins.
If you don't turn to bitterness to escape the unknowing, a softness develops.
This is the softness of acceptance.
It will gradually envelope you if you don't fight it.
Acceptance is coming to terms with the unknowing.
You learn to live through the traumas of having your beliefs destroyed.
You learn to sit within, and walk through a nonsensical world.
Eventually, you discover gravity again.
You discover that if you drop something, it falls to the earth.
There are natural laws.
Order does exist.
Until you come again to the place of unknowing and must learn to accept all over again.


I'm definitely not there yet, but it gives me hope.

songs 3 and 4

I heard two songs on the radio this morning on the way to work, and I cried most of the drive. First was "Just When I Needed You Most"

Now I love you more than I loved you before
And now where I'll find comfort - God knows
'Cause you - Left Me Just When I Needed You Most

Just when I arrived at work, "Seasons in the Sun" was playing, and I had to turn off the tears. The worst line is

Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die...

I'm crying as I write these words. When does the crying stop?

Meditations for Miracles

My Step-aunt Diane L. Ross wrote a book, "Meditations for Miracles", which I read every day. This is yesterday's meditation.

Grief

Grief is not to be resolved, grief is to be endured.
There is no comfort for a child who has lost its mother.
There is no comfort for a mother who has lost her child.
This deep sorrow cannot be mollified.
This sadness cannot be cured.
This grief must be lived.
Just as you cannot stop the oceans from crashing on the shores, you cannot stop the waves of sorrow crashing in your heart.
There is nothing to do.
Tears won't wash away grief.
Words provide no relief.
Sleep becomes an absent lover.
There is no peace, no warmth, and no comfort.
As one learns to crawl through this awful pain, there is no desire to see light again.
This overpowering, unending darkness is something we all share.
We have all been there.
Which is why a smile, a hug, a tiny kindness should become your goals: When you can, when you're ready, when grief softens its hold.
Even though at time you may wish that you, too, were dead.
Grief endured is part of life lived.

cabin 1331

Chris and I took a cruise on Carnival Splendor in May 2009. Today I was on the ship looking for luggage, and I walked past our cabin, 1331. I touched the number on the wall, and tried not to cry. We had so much fun on that cruise! I had expected that he and I would be going on many more cruises in the future. It'll be hard to cruise without him.