Tag: Hiding


Three weeks today since I’ve written here.

My baby brother died.  He died on Christmas Eve.  “Awww”, you say.  And the guilt comes at the final acceptance that I dare to make it about me.  Yet it is about me…again.  It is still and always about me.

Hank is gone.  That is, his physical presence is gone from this particular life.  His spirit is alive and well; I have no doubts; we’ve talked.

I could eulogize him here.  I could tell you about his childlike sweetness and total lack of guile.  I could tell you how much I wish I’d called him every time I was in his town and didn’t.  I could tell you how I wish I’d listened better when he spoke.  I could tell you how I wish I’d made more effort to invite him to my home.

Or I could tell you about our conversations since Christmas Eve.   I could tell you just and only what I want you to hear… the nice stuff.  I could choose to just tell you the nice stuff.

It has been my habit, by cultural and parental training, to just talk about nice stuff. ..until I either explode at someone inappropriately or just hide so no one sees me angry, hurt, sad, lost, in pain…mostly I hide.

Today I am out of my hidey-hole bringing the anger, sadness, loss, and pain with me.  I bring these very real emotions to the light of day.  I bring them to you the reader not to be fixed, but to be acknowledged.   Like the cat bringing her kill for you to see.  She isn’t asking you to change the state of the dead bird.   She is sharing with you her ‘catness’.   I am sharing with you my humanness.

That’s all.  And it is enough.

For Today

I watched a marathon of an old TV show “What about Bryan”.  My indulgence in it was purely antiseptic and akin to a drug induced coma.  I had something to sort out; it was painful; I hid.

I was desperate.  I had already watched all the good stuff.  The writing in the show was shallow, the dialogue pure cliché.  They even had to bring in clips of James Garner in the “Notebook” for any semblance of emotional depth.  But I kept watching lest the numbness disappear, the tears and fears surface again.

I kept watching past the deepening irritation of the repeated phrase, “What are ya’ doin’ here?”  This banality read as long fingernails across the chalkboard, insulting my literary sensibilities.  Again and again, every show, several times per show.  Finally it became all I heard.  But I kept watching.

This morning I awoke with the gift.  I awoke from my self-induced coma, not still hearing, but finally listening…..“What are ya’ doin’ here?”

Ahhh, the Universe!  She works in mysterious ways, even when we try so hard not to listen.  Because what Source is listening to is the deep cry of our hearts, past the chatter, past the pain, past the fear.  And Grace responds.

Today is the day of equalization. Day and night no longer contest one another for dominance.          For today.

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