A few days ago I wrote of the grief process, "and onward we go, one foot in front of the other, through this unchartered territory" The thing is, sometimes I want to stay right where I am. Not move another step. My foot gets stuck on things, unpredictable things.
Yesterday it was my journal.
My journal, an eclectic mixture of sketches, weather reports, stuff about my health and habits, energy level, mindheart matters, record of events, poems. Since Dad's passing, I find myself writing TO him such that the last many pages of my journal read like conversations with him.
I just finished my journal yesterday. Normally this gives me a sense of accomplishment, I like to look over the book I've finished, an expression of my Being. I get to decorate and inaugurate a new book. This time though, I don't want to move into a new book. This one, April-July 2009, is the story of Dad, his passing. Reflections on our last phone conversations, long talks on the porch, the richness of the last days we had together. My ongoing relationship with him now....I feel pretty attached. I have little interest in putting this one on the shelf and starting a new one. I'm stuck...
Attachment, non-attachment. Some say that attachment is one of the root causes of suffering. How would that meditation go....about my journal....maybe something like this:
Breathing in, I acknowledge my attachment to this book.
Breathing out, I smile to that attachment.
Breathing in, I dig under the attachment story-line (book, Dad, etc) and find a raw tender clingy feeling.
Breathing out, I sit with that raw tender clingy feeling.
Breathing in, I dig down another layer and find vulnerable softness.
Breathing out, this is my core.
Breathing in, I sense the vulnerable softness at the core of all beings.
Breathing out, vulnerable softness connects me to all beings.
It's not about the book. It's never about the book. And so it is that I get unstuck. That I begin moving forward again, this time into a new journal. We found a blank book in Dad's office with a Buddha on the front. Just waiting. Follow me into this next book Pops. The journey continues....one foot in front of the other...