Also posted on Marion Patterson blog.
The writing is not polished. They are simply my rough notes.
I decided to stay home late afternoon after day two of an invigorating and interesting workshop. Initially, I felt pretty guilty of breaking the appointment I had for later afternoon. Suddenly, I knew I was to contact friends but could not find the email addresses. So, I called. How grateful I am to Universe to have helped me with awareness and the knowledge to “just do it.” We had a good talk and the measure of comfort that I could offer was well received. I still find it curious that I just know sometimes. But, from this summer’s “wax on-wax off” practice I’m better at responding to the “knowings.”
The polarized comments connected with the shootings in Connecticut are predictable. Only one other person seems to have “got it” when I said, “But for the grace of God go you and I.” I do not believe any of the people who have committed violent acts are inherently “evil.” (A term popularized by the second Bush administration and designed to create “us and them” feelings. That term needs to be retired.) Circumstances in people’s lives have accumulated and their resources diminished so they snapped and indeed did heinous acts. But, “unthinkable”? No. Just think about how we are bombarded with bad news in all media, how children are allowed to watch violent movies and TV shows and play violent video games, how politicians demean each other in public, how radio personalities swear and rant about what they do not like, how novels and non-fiction tomes explicitly describe crimes and how adults in institutions of all sorts push, shove, and bully workers and children. And, we think these acts are “unthinkable”?
I believe that answers have more to do with how we treat people each day than in more laws, more controls, more….
Our friends whose child died a number of years ago, echoed what just was spoken on TV by families in the UK who have experienced a similar tragedy as Connecticut: That grief is a long process, that people grieve in different ways, that the wound re-opens when a similar tragedy happens, that they appreciate being remembered because most people, “move on” and seem not to recognize that wounds are forever.
Today in class today, a table-mate shared from a previous class on grief that she had taken, that some random thought, piece of music, or event can create a “grief burst”. But, I try to keep in mind that while I (we) might remember, we do not have to relive the event. However, this takes time.
So, where am I? A colleague, in an email, provided helpful insight that I am practicing: “If you walk the labyrinth everyday you will know soon what your role is in assisting the healing in Ct. The labyrinth is who you are and what you do. Not to deny Reiki in any way.”
Today, before class I left Sisters Health Club early, bumped into a friend who is struggling with health, so tried to re-assure her, and then drove to the Regis Labyrinth.
The experience: I pulled the earth toned shawl over my head to shield from the raw SW wind. Damp and grey skies settled in. Temperatures in the mid-30s. I picked up a pebble by the entry – a modified Jewish and Christian tradition of putting stones and rocks on graves. Never looking at it, I walked with my feather and the pebble. The small bricks along the path caught my eye: Pray…Instruct…Patience…Comfort…Forgive. In the center I stood looking out over the tree line, the school building and up to the cross at Mt. Mercy University Chapel. Only when I placed the pebble did I notice it, picked it up again, and took pause as the message revealed itself. It was about a quarter inch thick and two inches wide, tan on the outside, rounded and sheared off on one edge. Inside were noticeable black and white crystals.
The Reflection: This pebble is worn, fractured. The other pieces are gone, never to be found again. It is incomplete. But, by being fractured, the interior is revealed. Only through experiences do we find elements within of strength, compassion that can help us find answers, move through, grow, share, and become more “whole” even in our brokenness. This thought seemed to be “an answer” and the “conclusion” . But, I am unsure about the middle, so will continue to walk as suggested.
“It is such a secret place, the land of tears.” The Little Prince. Antoine de Saint Exupéry
Let us move to compassion. “Be more kind than is necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some sort of battle.”