Saturday, February 25, 2012
A Tree Blocks the Road
I didn’t write another post immediately following the last, though I had intended to do so. While I can make excuses, the bottom line is I was waiting for my reflections to demonstrate a step forward and not have to admit abject failure, landing myself somewhere in the soup instead of making progress towards an increased steadiness on terra firma. And so I attempt to tread water to keep my head above the muck even as I continue to feel myself going under.
But I haven’t successfully turned myself around and I won’t put off writing any longer. The ignoble truth is I am angry. Furious in fact, and have been even before losing Jack as I watched the suffering he was forced to somehow tolerate as days stretched to weeks and weeks to months.
Yes, I know that the question, “Why do bad things, terrible, awful, unfair, unwarranted, and totally undeserving things happen to good, amazing, one in a billion type of people,” has been asked and answered by so many people it may appear old hat. But it doesn’t to me and not today.
Yet at the same time, I know he is looking down at me with a frown on his face, unhappy that I am unhappy, why I can’t seem to figure out what’s actually important and lasting in this experience. Why I’m letting all the chaff distract me from the beauty of the cornel within. I can imagine him truly confused as to why I just don’t seem to get it.
Knowing that his true suffering came from continuing to live while unable to give to others any longer in the manner he wanted to, I also know he'd suffer if all that resulted for me from his death was anger. Because he knew the truth behind the power anger holds over us, a truth I am only just starting to give voice to. Not fully formed into words yet the best I can do is thus. The truth Jack knew was that anger supersedes all else, preventing the ability to appreciate anything of beauty within or without.
And so, I find the real work begins only now. I must find the courage to turn over stones I may prefer to leave as they are, if I am to identify something significant that I can take away from this, a part of Jack that I can keep with me always. Awareness descends and I suddenly know that if I cannot do this, it will be I whom suffering finds, overtaking all else as that will be the moment I will truly and completely lose him forever.
I force my focus to light upon what lies in the opposite direction, though it takes great effort to do so. For it is there the alternative can be found. I feel suffused in warmth and it is only after I awaken from an unintended sleep that I am able to recognize the warmth still surrounding me. I realize it is hope.