Tenderly Loving And Honoring
My Wounded, Awakening Parts
Looking back over my childhood and first half of my life...
I felt the pain and sadness of those parts of me that were unable to function,
unable to be happy, unable to do and create in life.
The ones who were in pain, who felt lonely, who felt abandoned, shamed, who
did not know how to love, how to receive love and ultimately how to love themselves…
the ones who held this for me so I could breathe and live.
At the time of their
time…
they could not afford to grieve, to be weak, to allow love.
Love was a dangerous thing.
They could only clinch tightly and march
forward with their stinging consignments.
Years passed, relief still an impossible dream.
And, then, after the march had been long and weary and exquisite,
profound exhaustion was upon them, they could hold
their consignments no more and kindly asked:
'Are you ready?'
Yet, it was more of a deep
plea and soft demand both and at once.
'Yes' I replied.
So
then I began doing the grieving for them, decompressing them, lastly
allowing them the space and acceptance of who they are and how they feel.
And mixed in with their grieving thru me,
I was also grieving for them and
myself.
It is odd - the many angles of grieving.
There is much going on inside me.
Sometimes the grieving
was sharp and stabbing and at other moments
the abating heaved and gasped until I was temporarily breathless and utterly spent.
Sometimes it was
a sweet weep with gratitude to them for being
on the front lines, for holding
it together no matter what was happening...
holding it together in that we are
all still alive and above ground.
So many times was death wished for and actually reached for
but never accomplished,
so many times
when the sweet release from the body would have meant sweet release
from the
pain and unrelenting darkness that endlessly encapsulated.
Sometimes the grieving was for the missed opportunities of
what could have been,
had the girl and young woman been whole, been sound, been lusciously and lavishly
in their creative juices and able to produce worlds of
color and grand magic.
Sometimes the grieving was for the missed opportunities of
perhaps a lasting love,
a love where two people joyously celebrate each other in their successes,
in their failures, in times of great loss and sadness and
in times of triumphant
climbs in consciousness, a love of longevity, of lasting
and abiding companionship
that supports and braces everything about them as a
whole.
More and more the grieving became one of a final farewell to
them in
a sense, but actually the relieving them of the madness, for having
unknowingly
loved without knowing they loved
so
much that no matter what they did, no matter how confused and miserable they
were,
no matter how much they destroyed themselves from lack of knowing how to
care for themselves they continued, they lived, they strived to take the next step and the next...
And grieving for them because...
they showed me the way to me and of the
herculean task that was required to deliver me to me.
They were the ones who
held the aching, held the turmoil, held the insanity
so I could finally emerge,
so I could claw my way to and know peace,
know creation, know love…
And it was
now my turn to finally show and bring it to them so that
they could, at last,
be whole, be at peace and live thru me.
I relish this, this position I am in to enfold them in my
everlasting care and tender
love.
I love and thank them for holding me up,
even though they almost gave up.
I Am In Awe Of You.
Aniel Lia Love
© 10.30.2012
All Rights Reserved
An excellent
heart-warming tune:
Timsel by Mumford
& Sons
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