From a young man to a just past medi-care old man this man was my life. It seemed that there were things we didn’t or couldn’t talk about as I think back on our on-again / off-again relationship but there was enough synergy and common bond to keep us tracking with each other til the death-do-us-part thing. I remember after harsh words how we wouldn’t speak for a long time and then just sort of meld back into whatever we had been doing before the argument erupted. Like two streams who could not be parted, whose purpose was to flow and who wanted under any obstacle to flow together.
Today Kathy, Mark, Christy, Vita, Donna and I meditated together for the end of the bardo period expressed in the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, poorly understood intellectually by anyone. The Tibetans believe by this time the newly dead person has moved through everything they need to do and have gone on to a new reincarnation… I rather hope not judging from the climate change data, but I am no expert on either after-life or coming-life.
In the case of the being who was Michael I asked that any remaining attachments be lovingly addressed from our spiritual heart centers so any remaining help he might need could be given. If he had created suffering in his life, at any time and anyone was living at the effect of it, I asked that it be cleansed. And lastly, that the good he had done, with his interesting and creative life ripple out in continuous waves of helpfulness. (At the end of the mediation I also requested that others who had died since he did be lifted and loved on the wave of energetic goodness we were experiencing.) We could sense great power in the universe and what was him energetically “alive” to all that was available in that place of light, power and goodness.
We also discussed in shorthand about his body… how does the perfectly beautiful person die? He let go with utter mammalian grace his sexuality, his bowel and bladder integrity, his gorgeous face, and his glorious hair and finally his very life, without a whimper or complaint. At each stage he was about coping/releasing in a way that did not interfere with the part of the glass that was still full.. he never seemed to mourn any loss and now he is flying free… no surfboard or ski or parachute needed… no veggie oil to process or truck to fix to get down the road to the next adventure. That “other side” was nothing to fear and it reassured and empowered us to share that.
This is it. I don’t have to observe any particular meditation schedule, light any candles, keep any radio/t.v. off but here I sit in silence. The frig, the light above me.. the bare echo of nothing so that I might write and feel my sadness so I might write and feel the day and all the goodness in it… One thing, I tasted his boney ash… it was salty! I weeded around the little pine where the ashes will go tomorrow and laid next to the tree in the low winter sun. I was helped by dear Orien in putting out a little Michael boutique for his friends to take from tomorrow when we do the waffles.
In all of this I give Thanks for my dear husband. I don’t know what a soul mate is. I have always felt women are like transistor radios. We tune to a certain frequency and stay with it or move to another until we find the right one. It’s never perfect to our own basic tone… so much of me was pitched under what he was and could be and part of me was what he needed to provide his own balance and emotional harmony in the world.. The words Awkward Nobleman came into my mind during meditation and that was about right. I was a bridge to the world for him as he was a bridge to being in nature for me. He was realistic and at home in the physical world–I think he was a logistical genius and on one level I was always, from day one, in awe of him but the relationship never went anywhere until I stood up to him and asserted my own self interests. I guess over time that created some gaps but it also was part of the mesh that loosely allowed us to function together so beautifully.
I love you Mikey and will always.