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Posts tagged ‘Michael’

There’s No Place Like Hope

 

 

I was spending my Friday evening perusing a used book store when my eye was caught by this very catchy title.

 

Being an avid “Wizard of Oz” fan, the switch of HOME with HOPE struck such a chord with me.

 

Home, for me, has never equated to a physical structure, but rather a place to fully be me.

 

To be immersed by all that I love.

 

To let me hair down.

 

Dance around naked.

 

Talk out loud.

 

Find myself.

 

Cry.

 

Laugh.

 

LIVE…

 

A breeding ground to create memories and share moments with those I care about.

 

A place of peace.

 

Unapologetic.

 

Quirky.

 

Me.

 

 

When thinking of all that I hope for, I saw that it literally embodied what “home” was/is.

 

Hope is nothing more than us trying to find our way back to all that we are when we find ourselves in a space/energy/place that embraces all that we are and all those that add color to our canvas….hope in disguise.

 

I have no freaking clue what that darn book is about that stirred this realization…But I sure as hell know that it made me realize that there really is nothing like hope.

 

Nothing like ‘home’.

 

Nothing like remembering where the yellow brick road leads to and what that homecoming means to one’s soul.

 

Sometimes we just need to click the heels of our hearts and mind together to remember where it is.

 

 

Invincible

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You know that feeling….

You can do it all.

Conquer it all.

Get through it all.

You enter any situation or place almost as if you own the joint, simply because they’re by your side.

All is right.

All that isn’t, will soon be.

You’re safe.

All is sound.

You have the unquestionable and unshakeable knowledge that you are deeply loved.

For all that you are.

All that you’ll be.

Unconditionally.

 

 

Then loss occurs.

You have a feeling of self-doubt, instability and a fear to take one step forward.

It happens…

 

 

One of my favorite guided meditations to lead is the ‘feeling of love’ meditation, as I call it.

You go back to that place.

That safe place and power of a love someone showed you, which in turn bestowed you with a confidence and assurance that all will be well…even amazing.

Mid-way through the meditation, I ask them to release the image/place/feeling of that person, but to hold on to the energy.

It’s tough.

It can be painful.

But as they breathe through it. Inhaling the love. Exhaling the fear of being on a world without them here physically, a switch occurs.

 

 

It’s a meditation I personally guide myself through on days where I just need that extra oomph…. it’s that reminder that the invincible feeling I had with Michael wasn’t dependent solely on him, but created within myself when the perfect one for me showed me it was possible to find that love and power within.

I can still feel it.

Still walk in to a building like he’s by my side.

Feeling confident that it was in the action of someone loving me unconditionally that I was able to find within myself an unconditional love that knows no boundaries, or rules on when and how and where to come forth.

And I will rock.

And I will kick ass.

And will do it eyes wide open. Fearlessly.

To infinity and beyond 😉

 

Many

“Somehow she knew that you didn’t get many moments like this in your life: moments when you knew, without any doubt, that you were alive, when you felt the air in your lungs and the wet grass beneath your feet and the cotton on your skin; moments when you were completely in the present, when neither the past nor the future mattered. She tried to slow her breathing, hoping somehow to make this moment last forever.”
-Neil Gaiman

It was a day before he left.

My hands graced his chiseled jaw.

My eyes melted looking into his.

He asked what I was doing.

I responded with “Remembering this moment.”

 

 

It was under the sheets as the sun seeped through.

We’d lift them like a tent and stay in our “warmth bubble”.

Refusing to remember that time was clicking by.

In that moment, it was frozen.

 

 

It was his hand inching over to hold mine for the firs time.

In that truck on our way back from the zoo.

 

 

It was our last kiss.

Gate 14.

 

 

It’s waking up and stepping outside to smell the dew and feel the warmth of the sun on my back.

 

It’s walking down a path in India and soaking in each smell, sight and person.

 

It’s the knowledge that I get to meet the most amazing people and do what I love.

 

It’s cuddling with my dogs and hugging my family extra tight.

 

It’s now.

It was then.

It’s the moments.

The moments before tragedy struck.

The moments after.

Both stunning.

Both beautiful.

Both paving the way for those to still come.

Open

 

My life is much different from many of my loved ones.

 

I find myself traveling 1/3 of the year.

 

I happily sleep with two (furry) men each night I’m home.

 

No one gets on my back for the dishes sitting in the sink a bit too much or the dirty clothes on the floor.

 

I thoroughly enjoy my solitude (i.e. meditation, reading, playing fetch, watching clouds pass,etc.).

 

That’s just to name a few of my realities ( I guess not noting the obvious…I’m a 27-year-old widow…oops…add that!).

 

In the first few years after Michael’s death, many (ok…nearly all) were worried about me….

 

Worried about me being alone.

 

Worried if I’d drink too much.

 

Worried that I’d never come out of the deep hole that my grief and self had been thrown into.

 

Worried that I’d kill myself.

 

The “remedies” and “prescriptions” came flowing in from all those around.

 

Not out of ill will…more out of not knowing what else to do.

 

I remember looking into their eyes and seeing a pain for the life I was living. I saw their fear of ever having to imagine it ever being their fate one day.

 

I felt their pity.

 

I felt their gratitude (that it wasn’t them).

 

I felt their lack of control of changing what they could not.

 

But then, and now 6 years later, I have held onto something that my soul and heart know.

 

A knowledge that is as pure as my eternal love for Michael.

 

The knowledge (and now the power) of knowing that what others have seen as an empty life (after his death).

 

I have known to be an opening for me to find, persevere, rise, fall, and create my life after tragic death.

 

Empty is just another word for OPEN.

 

Open to life.

 

Open to fear.

 

Open to happiness.

 

Open to failure.

 

Open to all that has occurred.

 

Open to all that will occur.

 

Remember that. Find power in that. Feel peace in that.

 

So as I enter our home, 6 years later. Uncork a 91 point wine. Watch an amazing film. Feel gratitude for the day that has passed and the roof over my head. I live and feel the knowledge of knowing that one man’s empty, is another man’s sanctuary.

 

And my heart feels grateful. Content. Overflowing. Blessed. Strong.

Something

22732_1339886731200_3772854_n“In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! We are not bound for ever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien

 

Something happened last weekend that awakened me.

 

It was an AWP Health and Fitness weekend.

 

We were ending the evening with reiki sessions.

 

I’d never done reiki, and since leading it, I hadn’t planned or set aside time to do so.

 

A window opened and one of the practitioners had come down, looking ready to depart, and I figured I’d ask if she had a free 20 minutes so I could at least try it.

 

She did.

 

She led me upstairs. I layed down. Closed my eyes. And just kind of waited.

 

I didn’t feel anything. My mind was wandering so I went to meditating.

 

I could hear her as she progressed from my head to my chest.

 

A slight touch.

 

Then she broke the silence.

 

I don’t know what occurred or what she truly is (being a skeptic on so much).

 

She heard him. She said things only he would know.

 

At first I kept my eyes closed thinking “This is reiki?!”

 

Then I went into “What does she know?!”

 

Then she continued to slam me with facts….court worthy facts that washed away any doubt.

 

Her hand shook on my arm.

 

She continued to spit out things that opened the well to my emotions like only Michael could do.

 

It was my Demi moment. He Swayzee-d her like she was Whoopi.

 

It was….. I don’t know. It was real.

 

20 minutes turned into over an hour.

 

She wasn’t a medium or clairvoyant, nor sought out.

 

It was something I’ll never forget. It was something that has reaffirmed all the crazy things so few believed. It was him.

 

All around.

 

Madly in love.

 

Guiding me.

 

And now I sound completely mad 😉 but honestly, I feel so drenched in love and assurance that I find it hard to stop smiling.

 

They’re here. Undoubtedly. All around. Listening. Lifting. Loving.

 

He hears me when I talk to him at night. He’s there with Charlie. He wants me to get up off my butt and outside more! He chose to spend his spirit-life as my guide. And we have lived many lifetimes together in the past and will again. Our love transcends time, plains, everything.

 

This I know.

 

 

Bucket List

 

“What else is on your bucket list?” the stranger asked me.

It was over a call in which I received the news that something Michael and I had planned to do, but never had the opportunity to, was coming to fruition.

I sat there. Thinking.

“What else is on my bucket?!”

If I were to refer to my list after Michael’s death and where my life is now, the answer was simple.

I had done nearly everything that we ever wanted to do together. Either while he was alive or after.

I found true love.

I found my passion.

I’ve been able to travel all over the world.

I’m able to get up and love what I do every day.

I have amazing family and friends that continue to push me to evolve and grow.

And now….I had the knowledge that one of the last activities we spoke about doing together was going to happen.

So as I sat there, contemplating my response,  it hit me, “I think that the one thing I had left on my bucket list, that I loathingly added in the very first months of Micheal’s death, was to actually want to live again….to not open my eyes each morning with apprehension…to not just feel the need to live for him, because he couldn’t, but to want to live for myself. That really was the biggest thing left on my ever-changing and expanding list…and I’ve done it. It’s checked off.”

Of course, I’d love to see and experience every thing this beautiful world has to offer, but at that moment, and at this moment, I have done more than I ever dreamed possible, loved more deeply than the deepest abyss, experienced more than I could have ever fathomed. There may be more in the future, for whatever length that is, but in the present, I can happily say that my original list has been (or will be by August), completed. My bucket list before his death.

And now, I’ve chosen to not create one for my life after his death. Not for fear of the unknown, but for bliss in the unknown…the unpredictable…the things that make life the amazing ride it has been. The bliss that has made every moment of everyday an unfolding bucket list I didn’t even know I wanted, but so happily check off.