On My Mind: Riding the Waves

“I beg you… to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
- Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

I was thinking that this week would be easier as I began the second week after my mother’s passing.  Not true.  Last week was the initial shock, the realization that she is gone from this world and the bubbling up and releasing of the first layer of emotions.

Little did I know there were more to come.  Just like the proverbial peeling of an onion.  More joy.  More sadness.  More resentment.  More everything.  Speaking with friends who have been through this, it’s not unusual.  It’s just the way it is.

A friend of mine wrote me this beautiful note and shared with me something that another one of our mutual friends had shared with her when her mother passed away.  She said, “The loss of a mother is such an important passage in a woman’s life.”  And, that’s it.  It’s an important passage.

So rather than brush it away, move through it, tell myself , “I’m doing just fine….”, I decided to ride the waves. Take them for what they are and use them to move through my grief.

I cancelled all of my appointments this week and in addition to the work I needed to do, I am just riding the waves.  When I find I can’t concentrate on work, I take a break.  I go for a walk.  I examine the daffodils and crocuses coming up.  I sit with a cup of tea in my hand and a cat on my lap and stare out the window.  I exercise – aerobically and stretch out with pilates.  I light a wonderful smelling candle and write in my journal.

I ask myself questions about what I am feeling and close my eyes, settle in and wait for an answer.  What I realized is that you have to be open to have the answer make itself known.  Author, Jennifer Louden, calls this becoming an empty vessel so that the Divine can pour the answer in.  She says, “Become a hollow listening women.” 

So, I am and one of my favorite places to do so is when I’m soaking in the tub.  Lights dimmed, candles burning and quietness.   Solitude.  And, making it even better is my favorite sea salt bath recipe:

1 cup of non-iodized, organic sea salt
1 cup of epsom salts
1 cup of baking soda
10-15 drops of your favorite therapeutic, organic essential oil or blend
¼ cup of milk or unflavored soy milk

Mix essential oils (I love lavender and geranium) with milk.  Pour all ingredients under running warm water as tub fills.

I soak for 15-20 minutes and relax.  I close my eyes and become an open vessel.

I am grateful for whatever is shared.  And, as I get out, I watch all of my “stuff” just go down the drain.

I finish up by drinking a full glass of purified water.  I jot down anything that made itself known and capture the way I feel in the moment.

I’m discovering a lot.  A lot about me from the past.  A lot about me in the moment.  A lot about how I want to live my life.

Riding the waves… a major gift for me.  Another gift from my mother.