Falling Off the Spiritual Bandwagon

I never thought that after 25 or 30 years, it was even possible to fall off a spiritual band wagon. In my mind I knew that if I had the intellectual reason to do or not do something, that would be reason enough. If I have doubts about something, I evaluate it, I decide if it works for me or not. I never thought I could 'forget' again. I had a conscious daily morning spiritual practice. Every morning, I would get up, do specific meditations, and seek the deep, deep silence that was a passion for me, an incredible love. Sometimes I would read prayers, often mantra played a role, sometimes music. But despite how my practice varied over the years one thing was constant, I was committed to it. I didn't miss days, I didn't wake up and think, "Yeah, not today." There was no room for excuses and no matter what was going on in my life, I made room for it.

All of that was in the blissfully ignorant state of not having known deep, abiding, personal grief.

And that changed. In the last year, my life has changed so dramatically, loss has been so deep and so life-altering. And one day I woke up and realized, that special daily connection I had was gone. I had simply forgotten it.

It's not an excuse. I don't really believe in excuses. I do believe in looking at what's going on, evaluating life's circumstances and processing it all to find understanding, to find what I can learn from it. And this is what I have learned:

• Secondhand grief is nothing like the grief you experience on a personal level. Having friends who have lost friends, or parents, or siblings, is nothing like losing someone you hold dear to your own heart. I consider myself very empathetic, and still it was nothing like experiencing it myself. I have a cousin who lost her sister years ago. When my sister died she reached out in a message to me, and I thought about how I couldn't feel her pain all those many years ago, but now, now I could feel it acutely, personally, deeply.
• Grief is isolating because it is so personal. Yes, there are books about it, and TED talks, and friends with their experiences, but there is that difference between what someone else says, feels, thinks and how *I* feel. Yes, there are so many who loved the same person, and yet, every single experience of loving him or her was completely different. Yes, there are a lot of pat expressions, sayings, and exclamations of "You'll get through this," but that isn't the point.  Grief is all encompassing. It is not only the missing connections gone, it is the questions, the struggle against guilt, the sadness that pops at any appropriate or inappropriate time. Grief is also wondering if it could have been different and all those thousands of tiny details missing in action:  the words, the messages, the sweetness, the ready availability of someone to be there at any time. 
• Grief is not limited to death as we know it. Not only did I lose two very dear and very beloved family members, to a certain extent I also lost mobility as osteoarthritis eked away at joints that previously worked fine. I sat for years cross-legged on the floor. Nope, no more. I walked and walked and walked and loved that special soul connection with the skies, or the river, or the beach, or the sidewalk. From one day to the next it stopped. An agile and able body started aching all over and at some point, weakened joints simply stopped working. It is a death of a sort as well, and it's scary. Even with corrective operations, there is so much time wiled away in pain, rest and recuperation, and deeply grieving the changes it has wrought in your life. And there is other grief - the grief of losing one's personal space, losing a job, losing privacy. Grief relates to so much more in life than I knew.
• Sometimes that grief leaves a hole where there once was faith. Sometimes it doesn't. In my case it did. It left me wondering where that connection with the Infinite went. It left me wondering who's got my back, despite having very dear and close friends. For so many years I haven't been able to fathom a day when I get up and don't take those first morning minutes to clear space for that connection to spirit.  And then I found myself sitting on the side of the bed for half an hour, trying to encourage myself to get up. All that energy that had gone into my spiritual practice was now reserved for just getting up! 

The good news is that we never really forget things like a spiritual practice. The harder news is that like anything else - it just takes practice. So, here I am, back at the starting block. I close my eyes and the monkey mind, which I haven't had to deal with for years, is back, I have to start at square one. At least I have the tools.

Life can be a dizzying composite image of life and death, growing, grieving, laughing, crying, working, resting, and so much more.  For me, the daily spiritual practice was what grounded me in my body, what grounded me in the act of being present. Now as I work hard to set aside that time again, now as I do my short little meditations, now as I struggle to find the silence that feeds and nourishes me, now as I struggle not to judge myself or make myself bad for letting go of something that has always been an important part of my self-care, now I get to jump back on the spiritual bandwagon as an older and wiser person who has felt the very ravages of grief and who is finding solace in daily meditation, now I am the old and the new.

Now I know it's not about following directions. Now I know it's not about someone else's beliefs. Now I know that it won't stop life from happening, and it won't protect me from feeling grief or pain or questions or anything else for that matter. Now I know that my spiritual practice is nothing that relates to anyone but me, (and that, I have decided, is a Good Thing). Now I know that falling off the bandwagon doesn't make me bad. Instead, it forces me to find compassion and empathy for myself, and if compassion and empathy aren't the basis, the greatest part of spirituality, what is the point?  Now I know that no amount of guilt-tripping will take me back there, and that only love will do it. Now I can take my years and years of experience and walk myself back, with grace and understanding and kindness.

Yay. ♥

 © Darshan F Jessop 2016

Day of the Dead - June 19

Well, ok, it's not really the Day of the Dead. It's June 19. It's my sister's birthday. It's Father's Day 2016. But for me it's the day of the dead.I couldn't really think of how to deal with the day. And I awoke thinking that today is really my own little day of the dead and that I can turn it into a celebration.

At first, I thought I'd go to the cemetery and visit my sister and my dad via the floo network, since I'm 800 miles away from where they are interred and can't just pop over to San Diego for a brief visit. I thought maybe I'd take my mom with me. We thought we'd go out to dinner where they loved to eat.

Now that I'm up and well into my day I am sad but not devastated, and curious about what this celebration looks like from the inside. My friends are texting me, sending me messages of love. I feel the blessing of them; it helps me relate better to the love I feel for my dad and my sister, rather than the deep, abiding sadness of losing them.

My dad I still feel great peace about. He had lived three years longer than his diagnosis, we had had plenty of time for telephone calls, visits, preparations. We were all around him, holding his hand, telling him how much we loved him as he left his body.

My sister, on the other hand, left suddenly, unexpectedly and way, way, way too soon. She was only 45. She hadn't been ill, she didn't have her family and friends around her when she died. She just went up to her room for a nap and didn't wake up again.

Two completely different deaths within five months of each other. My insides are like a see-saw.
It's hard when anyone leaves. Days like today are bound to be poignant and sad. But I want to also celebrate the beauty of love shared. Had I not known their love, I could not be the person I am today. Had I never known them, life would have robbed me of their joy of service, their incredible arms that opened and welcomed all of us in, their inclusiveness, their sheer kindness.

Today I am remembering a thousand moments of closeness, kindness, joy. Giggles, fights, romps. Shopping trips, visits, Disneyland. Their love of my son, how my dad would listen to him talk about Pokemon for an hour because he was "having a conversation with his grandson and would I please butt out," and how my sister would spoil him rotten. And how, no matter what, whether I was way too busy for my own good or bored out of my mind, whether I was hurting for money or doing alright, whether I was in San Diego or NM or Europe, they were my allies, they were the ones on the sidelines cheering for me, they were the ones who had my back, and whether I was focused enough to appreciate them and show my love or not, they always let me know they cared.

They say that the thing about dying is that you don't want to get to your death bed and have a gazillion regrets. When people you love die, it's like a practice round. You get to think about all things you did say, or didn't, things you regret saying, things you wish you had said much more often. You get to think about whether you could have been kinder, a better sister or daughter, a better friend. You can wrangle with those thoughts and let them eat you up, or you can make yourself a better person because of it.

I like to think that these meandering meditative thoughts have made me a better person, made me more empathetic, more compassionate, more willing to look behind what's going on and give the person underneath a hug. I like to think that in my sister's honor, I am more tolerant and a kinder person. I like to think that in my dad's honor, I am more serviceful.

June 19 will pass. It's only the first of many without these two precious souls in my life. And while it is a special day in its own way, my hope is that my tiny day of the dead celebration feeds me everyday with a reminder of love.

June 19, 2016

Happy Father's Day, papa! Happy birthday, Ali! 

I love  you both so much!

Every Little Thing

I want to write - "every little thing is gonna be alright" because that's what pops into my mind when I think of "every little thing." But not everything is alright. Life shifts and flows, ebbs and morphs, changing all the time. We are inundated with bad news, money scripted politics, and corruption; we are faced in our private lives with life, death and every nuance in between of love, loss, making it, not making it, working, not working, children, no children, partners, no partners, eating, not eating, functioning, not functioning, illness, health, etc. etc. etc.

The question is - what do we do with it all? One person alone isn't able to change the course of political corruption or greed. Sometimes one person alone can't even fix much smaller things, like the dishwasher. But we are not alone. We inhabit the planet with millions and millions of others. The conscious and unconscious choices we make as human beings are what matter, and consciousness has never been more important than now.

Here is where every little thing matters, every little thing counts. You make a decision, it matters. You purchase something, it counts. You post something on social media, it makes a difference. We think we are alone, but we aren't. You may be sitting on your computer at home alone, but what you post could touch millions. Our every action, our every word, even our every thought sends out ripples of energy into the world and we are responsible for that. If you only ever read the doom and gloom, your life will come to represent doom and gloom. If you also read about the good, the caring, the kindness, you will keep your heart alive. If you commit to purchasing your food and sundry at stores where people are paid real wages and you choose food and sundry companies that represent something closer to healthy work environments, you are making a choice that ripples out into the world.

So what I want to say is take a moment to think about what ripples you are creating in the world and choose well with conscious choices. Choose well within your means. Choose thoughts that will uplift you. To the best of your ability (and budget) choose where and how you spend your money knowing the ripple effect and long term impact. Choose your words carefully. Choose kindness. Make conscious choices as much as possible because every little thing matters.

© 2016 mydarshan