Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Fear, Grief, Your MOTHER. (PART ONE of many, probably, as in octopus-ital...)

I do know the differences between your, you're and you are. same with they're and their and there. i do. and i wish everyone did, but they don't. and i have to move on. . .
deep breath.  i feel the grief.  for public education in America, for time wasted, for sheer laziness... i feel it. . .
deep breath.
i shame myself too, so as long as its evenly spread, we're good.

in this week of crisis, in Boston, and in this town, where young suspects schooled themselves, had friends, smoked pot...  it has created many flows and eddies of thought, swirling tornadoes of seemingly interconnected spouts. we live nearby, my sister lives nearer by, everyone here is related to a police officer, everyone here knows someone who runs, lives there, did live there, did go to Chechnya, everyone is connected. and thats all i'm going to say about that.

because it isn't New York again.  It isn't. while truly terrible, it is not a first time... not that shattering of innocence, a fear of world war, impending doom.  (maybe that was just me.)

what there has been, for me, is a realization, again, of how difficult it is for us, collectively, to allow ourselves to feel fear and grief. to just sit in it, get down and dirty with it.
it seems like that is what we did around Newtown, and look at how different that was. . .
maybe we are allowed to feel fear when children are involved. maybe i know a lot of mothers, and we talk about it- or at least in its direction- more often. . .

fear and grief.  if we (I) don't figure out how to process that, to allow it, what does it become? irrationality, rage, vengeance-seeking, short-tempered anger, 'yelling at the kids for singing'... , depression...strung out. we are strung out.
how do we fix this? how do we even begin? if the only possible certainty in life is death, why does it get so little play? and why does its sudden appearance (so-called) drive all of us so wild with insanity and resistance ?
why is our fear so tied into worry, the least productive thing in the world?  if we worry about our fear, does it lessen?  does worrying keep anyone from death?
and at the same time? i dodge what i think i am afraid of, don't want to talk about it or look too closely at i get it. i don't want anyone to die. ever. i get it.

but i also get that i am making that shit up. its not true that i don't want anyone to die. i just fear the emotional upheaval of the grief and the fear that it won't be peaceful or painless .

i feel more free to grieve, to spend my time with compassion, to empathize, sympathize, to shudder at the understanding that it could have been me, at any time, it could be me. or them. and i have to somehow assimilate that feeling into my psyche, without turning to 'worry' it... sorrow is somehow easier to relate to.. react with, seems less likely to morph into anger. is it? my friends who have big grief? is it?
probably would do me some good to dive deeper into meditation these days, get my 'mind' self all up in my grille.

- i apologize for the schizophrenic nature of the post. like my own pulse, it is random and inexplicably fine.  and there will be more, because i've actually managed to 'not' talk about my real fears, and while i skillfully and adroitly dodge and weave, my point gets left to dangle...