I have picked up some favorite authors again this week, ones that offered me strength and wisdom in the past in times of need. Rumi, Mary Oliver, Pema Chodron. All of them resonate deeply with me, in their simplicity, their heart-connection, their bravery to uncover the darkest of secrets, even if it causes pain. I guess I like that pain. It is like the scab I cannot stop picking, I keep returning to the root of the sorrow, digging deeper to understand, to feel, to meld with it, and then retreating back to the surface, back to life, to work, home, chores, errands, cooking, eating…anything that is other.
It is all about balance, seeking it, measuring it, savoring it. I cannot escape the despair any more than I can undo what has been done. But I wanted to tell you some good news, Maya. I had four hours of “normal” this week. What is that? It is time spent with family and friends when we don’t talk about the loss, or healing, or suicide, or drugs, or the Foundation or the future. We talk about work, movies, friends, politics, news, anything, anything. It is a discipline I am learning. I am grateful for these glimpses of “normal”, although of course I know the inadequacy of that word in describing this.
Yet I try, always I try.
I offer this excerpt to you, and to myself, from the beloved Rumi:
“This longing you express is the return message. The grief you cry out from draws you toward union. Your pure sadness that wants help is the secret cup.”
The secret cup. Drink with me Maya, from our secret cup. Love you always,
At Mathew’s Graduation, 2013