Some necessary mourning

Taste of a Deeper Rainbow

some necessary mourning—

hours, days, years—falls

as a drape across a window

drawn without intention 

until a gradual shift begins

the release

and you start to open

again in a world

where marquees and trees

costumes and cloud plumes

now appear to hold more

subtle, dusky colors

(from Inherited Estate: A Song Cycle)

Some necessary mourning. 

After the Sandy Hook massacre in Connecticut. After Hurricane Sandy. After another health setback. After, after, after...

Fibromyalgia/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is such a dumb illness. So incapacitating, but not terminal, not even vaguely life threatening. Not diagnosed with any direct, overt tests, it is a catch-all clinical diagnosis from a list of symptoms. 

I live with it and look quite normal and carry this load of pain and fatigue. Sitting in a straight chair becomes a challenge. Climbing a flight of stairs or transferring wet clothes from the washer to the dryer become details to really notice, to be sure to allow energy for, to practice breathing through pain for. And some days it's just crippling. 

Other illnesses are invisible to the naked eye, too. Mental illnesses comes to mind in the chatter and noise of current events. Not invisible to the close and caring observer, but how many of those do any given one of us have?

And what can any one of us do?

My friend sent me a card of support that says, "Breathe deeply and hold your heart with gentle hands." Such a kind, humane way of being. As I practice, I find myself holding others' hurting hearts more gently, too, in my thoughts, breathing in and out. It's the best I can do.

Practice breath, practice compassion, allow time and attention in this season of Joy and Giving, between the celebratory highs, also allow time and attention and a space for some necessary mourning.