Ageless Mourning
This day Tuesday has marked an especially sombre day for me, as I discovered a family friend whose bond held for some fifty-odd years, peacefully gave way into eternal rest. Indeed, it would seem that a brief phone call bearing heavy news is enough to bring upon even heavier ephiphanies that illuminate the dark and unanswerable questions of our lives: why do we live? There is never an ‘appropriate’ time for a loved one to depart the physical plane that would satisfy our bosses or our conscience, no date that would sate our twelve-month calendar and no emotional investment deep enough that would ever permit a refund for our sorrow. In such a time, we as busy, persevering and thriving people seeking self-betterment in the eyes of our careers and our families and friends prefer not to dwell on the topic of mortality but are unmistakbly brought to consider it: the limitations of ourselves and the linear path of our lives, given that we rationalise what is precious to us in the world.
In the depth of our misery we lose our clarity and motivation, and draw upon the inspiration of our tribal bonds to familial traditions for guidance. In my understanding of the traditons of my family, this is typically a measured period of time in which black clothing is a staple, all thoughts of luxury in our lives must be abandoned, candles must be lit each morning and a window must be opened to greet the new breeze. In spiritual terms, these actions are said to lead us to a sense of pace in our healing process and give ‘directions’ for how to experience longing. Yet are these traditions leading us astray in our grieving, by suggesting our mourning should be regulated and monitored and our healing process measured in material rather than spiritual days?
Over my life I have lost many people with whom I shared a special bond; whether they were particularly close and amiable, whether they shared a deep and mysterious connection or whether it was an acquiantant relationship: but each parted with a metaphorical box of life’s tribulations and rewards, pockets of knowledge that were growing dusty in the mind and were better off in the hands of the young. The life journey however, is an extremely diverse experience as we all know and maxims have oftentimes been shown to have contradictions. For example, the early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese. The sooner you fall behind, the more time you’ll have to catch up. Hard work pays off in the future, laziness pays off now.
In truth, it is difficult for such maxims to remain applicable through the centuries of its usage and even if it is to survive, difficult to apply to the individual situations of our lives. Because we are so led by the traditions of our families who have practically told us “how to act and why”, it is confronting for some to realise that healing is a self-led process and its not limited by the constraints of the material world. There are indeed cues in the world that lead us astray into believing that it is “rude” or disrespectful to have ‘healed’ in less time than expected, or taking more time than is considered necessary. Dealing with a wound to the spirit that is as deep as the passing of a loved one forces us to draw upon our deeper spiritual resources invested in the essence of ourselves and of the earth. Carolyn Myss in her guide Anatomy of The Spirit is apt in stating that healing can be accelerated far beyond the prescribed notions of our tribal bonds. It is not a question about religious or moral beliefs, it is a pure and sensical statement to suggest that we are in the power of our minds and our souls, and thus we are invested in the choice in how we heal.
‘It is commonplace in the primary school arena to believe that, because our subordinates have labelled an action or a thought with stigma, we are therefore never to delve into the reasoning for this logic nor to perform its sacrilegious deeds - and such a way of thinking carries with us our lifetimes in some instances.‘
What is true of criminal and civil law is not the true law of the spirit and the mind, which are unified in the ancient concept of consciousness. We are conscious to changes in our lives and try our best to ‘go with the flow’ but we should also realise we can be the chariot of it and direct our healing. I encourage you to challenge the preconceived notions of ‘how to feel when sorrowful’ that you have been taught by the sociological reasonings of our friends and our families. Healing can occur rapidly; so long as we continue to harbour the belief that adages are spells of change in dark times and continue to believe that heresay wisdom of a time past is useful, the longer we delay our personal residue of sorrow-fighting capacity. Call it your NIDS: a negativity immuno-defense system. Positive thought reinforcement encouraged by adepts of the religious traditions and cognitive behavioural therapy introduced by the school of psychology stand for practically the same thing: the power of consciousness to direct the self. What are you waiting for?
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