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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment