While there’s life, theres hope.
I’ve decided to use my new journal and pen, I can’t see the point of saving it for specific words or a certain time.
I am aware that this diary like all the others before it may very well end up in the fire when complete but because it will ultimately end one day, for me isn’t reason enough to not begin or enjoy the process not anymore.
It used to be, so scared of losing things, people, situations, my mum in particular -that from an early age I became fiercely independent, separate and ironically created the very thing I feared.
I know I can’t go back now, that regret is a futile tool invented by my mind to rob me of the moments we did have from a place of my frightened inner child so desperate to hold on to them and to her mother.
But I also know regret, like many things, if seen from a higher perspective of love can be my best advocate in regard to taking these lessons forward.
Life really is too short, something we hear all too often, especially through the last breaths of those who are experiencing its end.
I don’t mean time, the unwritten man-made concept of a length, or age its shadow counterpart, that has so many fighting to reverse its impact.
I mean life itself.
It’s too short when it isn’t lived.
Something that is as unique as the individual experiencing it, but ultimately the one choice we all share.
How or rather if we are truly experiencing the existence, we have been given.
For some this will include family, a legacy and impact, others’ objects of success, a home a name a job.
There are no right or wrongs, it’s different for us all.
But underneath every aspect is the truth of presence, without which all these participants in one’s life have no real… well life.
To search for a soul mate and spend our union doubting the love, to work with no rest, to create with no joy of all the steps towards its deliverance including or especially failures is, as the musical states, to dream the impossible dream.
It’s true reality never appearing fully.
Every aspect of life, without this, is an existence half lived, a world between worlds.
The great sleep from which many are waking from.
My own slumber last night included a great celebration.
A party with all of my loved ones, including those that had passed, arranged by my beloved late mother.
In this reality my own joy was palpable, yet this morning in my physical life upon hearing Waterloo by ABBA, I fell to my knees.
Images of my own mum dancing despite her pain too heart breaking to bear.
The life and soul of any party, I missed her greatly.
Her energy has zest for life regardless of her circumstances.
I, my body, my soul, my life missed her, our physical presence.
In my own meditation I sat with this, allowing the thoughts of the day to come and go.
I never fight them or try to silence my mind rather I observe their existence, witness their effect on my body and hold space for the process with curiosity.
This eventually results in a quietening so deep I call it the void.
Nothingness yet everything.
Here this morning I could feel my heart, it hasn’t been the same since my mum passed.
Broken, but more than that, I feel it’s very rhythm has changed, as though something is missing.
The sensation you get when you forgotten something, but this time in my heart rather than my mind, a million times over.
This morning it felt heavy as I yearned not only for my mother but the part of me that had died with her.
Being with this pain allowing my body to be heard and the tears fall I encountered a brief spark.
If part of me was indeed with her, based on last night’s dream time, it, I, we we’re partying.
Enjoying life to the fullest.
My heart physically fluttered this morning as I allowed this and my mother’s love to return to me.
She would always be my mum the light of my life- death couldn’t stop this, cause for celebration.
From this energy I shuffled the tarot as part of my daily practise.
Unable to decide between two unknown cards.
I heard my mother’s voice urging me to choose my perspective.
Declining what I later discovered was the 10 of wands or suppression I tuned into the other un- known image I had selected from behind the Page of swords or understanding.
Holding the card without looking I glanced at the signature from Osho on the back as I heard “what is your signature dish- what do you serve to this world?”
Receiving the song give me hope Joanna in my mind on replay I knew that it was this this eternal infinite hope.
That despite its phases within my own life- I was surrounded by this in every aspect of living.
Feeling this energy in my womb space I heard again “what do you need to help you have hope” to which my heart, my chest, my very soul replied “presence.”
The card portraying the pregnant earth mother surrounded by a lunar cycle was the seven of Pentacles in the Osho Zen deck known as patience.
It is with great humility pride and love that I wish you all a day, no, a life, of patience.
I pray it is this very presence that brings the hope so often searched for within the world we hold inside of us.
May we become the dream keepers we are here to be and deliver the love of the Great mother eternally in all we are and do.
Here is to celebrating the very existence we have been gifted, fully.
May it be so for us all.
In deepest munay