The Art of Straddling

 The  Art of Straddling

  Joan texted me yesterday to remind me that you"showed up" during group, the last time I ever went five years ago. I was numb with the pain of year one without you. Sitting in a circle with the others, I tried to open my mouth and tell them how it felt to put my beautiful son in the ground; to explain the unimaginable....

 I started talking about how you had said there are no mistakes, that everything was set in motion before time. Instead of the usual talk about taking care of ourselves and setting boundaries, I blurted out that I wanted all of them to love their kids as much as possible and not feel guilty about giving them anything and everything. Screw the rules of Al Anon. Just love your kid.  People were nodding and crying, I think. At the time, I didn't know where those words came from.

 Night was coming and a dazzling sunset suddenly lit up the sky,  playing across the wall of windows like nothing I'd ever seen.

It would not be ignored, so I got up and walked to the windows, followed by some of the group.  Kathy's dog Ryder barked at the corner of the room where no physical human stood. Ryder saw you the way Phoebe still does.

It was a moment that changes everything.  I immediatly drank the truth of it,  but didn't yet grasp what was coming from you.  It was just the beginning of many miracles from you, Ian. Yes, as Joanne said, you showed up. 

I've learned to dive into these moments as they come, letting the visits wash over and baptize me. When you make a scene for me, so to speak,  I pause and take it all in. 

These moments are always carbonated. I try to make sure to catch them as I go through the day. I hope I have not missed any, baby. That would be terrible waste of a beautiful gift, like not stopping to notice a young boy's treasures; like missing  him catching a butterfly or the wonder of art that he brings forth from within.

Each deserves a moment of reverent pause. 

They are not just gifts, they are my portal.

Since you have been slowly pulling back and giving me more reign, I am trying something new, attempting to meet you part way. Deliberately. I am taking moments at the end of my day, head on pillow and ready to sleep,  to invite you and Source to use my dreams to send me guidance and insight; to peel away more and expose the spiritual self.

It happens often now,  on long walks when nature refuses to let worry stand unchecked.

I can get soft and quiet. I feel a shift, my bones seem to give way. Something comes.

I go out for a walk or pause when I first wake up because these are the times I can be more general, more relaxed, unharried; not preoccupied by the crap of life. I think I am beginning to recognize what this process is doing.

(Just as I wrote this I felt you get excited that I am figuring this out!)

"Just release, Mom," I can almost hear you say, 

"And open up the space beyond your churning brain!"

Or at the dawning of the day, if lay still and try to go more general and warm in my thoughts,  tiny moments that taste good from previous days jump to mind, and I can linger there a bit. It might be recalling something sweet a neighbor did, or the visual of  Hudson swimming in my hot tub, or a dog that ran away to freedom. I call up the joy of seeing that he has gone, he is no longer chained up at that horrid house. It's like clearing up the static of my radio by softly tuning in until I hear music. Then I wait to see what inspiration pops in:

                Go to Medrone Trail with the dogs

                Add light and shadows to my lizard painting

                Make yogurt

                Take some pictures of forms and frosty things

                Remember that squirrel on the fence

                Recall the sunset that chased me on your day

                

The Akasha.... the Source all around me.....all the time.....and everywhere...... yet never arm wrestling me for attention,  just offering a portal......

Through the things I see that break me open in wonder......

And the people I love who move me.........

The portal is always there.

If I can just manage the straddle of it.

Why have I been gifted so many encounters with you, Ian?

Maybe it is because I have been casual about believing man-painted views of Source?

Also,  because I have been desperate to hold onto you and eager to know where the fuck you are. Letting go of you was never something I could do, no matter how hard I tried.

It was as unfathomable and putting my eyes out or stopping my heart, knit together as we are, you and I. This tenatious love of mine turns out to be the asset I needed; it kept me battering my head against the wall that divided us. From time to time, you kindly and persistently continued to reach through the barrier and feed me like a baby bird, with signs and gifts of love. 

Thank you for that my steadfast son.

Now I am trying to step up to your kind invitations, find your hand, and join you in Akasha. The place of everything else that is always reachable with a softened eye and a willing mind.....see how it

Swirls and Pops ......

Hums and Sings..... 

Sways and Sparkles..... and Feeds, and Feeds, and Feeds. Where I am fed.

Maybe this is all a part of the bargain I have made to keep you, Ian. Now I need the full Monte to keep life vital; to defeat the boredom and malaise of years. I need more. More data, more angles, more information. Living here as a human is no longer enough for me. I guess this is the price paid when one straddles two worlds. I want to be here and there too. 

I need more cheats, except it isn't a cheat if it is given freely, right?

Here is the rub. I still want to be human, too. I want to sit with Henry and taste coffee, and hold a man. I want to exchange art with Kim, walk with Bridget, play with Coy, explore with Hudson, comfort my clients, teach my students, and watch a squash grow in a dixie cup. I want to always sit straight up in bed at the haunting cry of a screech owl and feel the excitement of getting up early to go on a trip. I want the unfathomable joy of hugging Chris, hearing Kenzie's voice, and watching Phoebe bound through tall grass. I want the goosebumps of hearing a new song; of thinking a new thought; of understanding something new and complex.

"I want it all, I want it all, and I want it now!" As some head-banger once sang in a song that made me laugh so hard. 

Ian, I imagine you know all of this even before I say it. You track my wanderings like a quiet, interested beast following me sweetly through the woods.Tell me more! Show me more about how this can work; How I can straddle both worlds; have the human life with feet on the ground, tethered to those I love.

But also able to step to the edge of the well.....

Dip both my hands in.......

And drink deeply the Holy Waters.

     Love,     

              Mom