So I’m through the worst of what can only be called – a storm.

A time of great upheaval, great upset, mentally, physically or emotionally, often all together.

Which is why I’ve been a bit quiet on the blogging front.  It was definitely a time to look inwards, to summon everything I’ve learnt and observe, observe, become, experience, stay with, observe, observe, become, experience, stay with…etc etc.

When practicing meditation it helps to understand these trying, difficult times as something strong that has come up, might stay for some time, and will definitely pass away.

I think the main lesson I’ve learnt from all of this is that it doesn’t matter how deep you sink, or how disconnected you feel, as long as you can step outside, even for a second, and observe – I am sinking, I am falling, then you’re not completely lost.

My worst moment, was the morning of the anniversary of Brendan’s death.  I hadn’t slept that night, and at about 4 am I found myself just lying there…completely numb.  No tears, no pain, no anything….just this heavy blanket of nothing.  I stepped across the line.  Back into that world I was in before I went away.  That sense of helplessness, of disconnect.  A 2-dimensional, bleak world, where all that matters is who you’re with, what you have…and all I could think is – I have nothing.  I don’t have Brendan anymore, none of us have Brendan anymore.  But beyond that, and worse than that – was the fact that there were still no tears.  No feelings.  No contact.  How strange it felt, and how afraid I was that in that moment all the colour and all the vibrancy I’ve been experiencing day-to-day had drained away.

I’ve spent a long time thinking about, and trying to articulate what has changed since Brendan passed, and for the most part its been what has been lost…but it was about 3 months ago, when I was lying in a hospital bed, Tolle’s Power of Now, splayed flat across my stomach, that I had a breakthrough.  It is not about what has been lost.

Some would say his music.  But all I have to do, is close my eyes and I can feel the vibrations of his song, of his guitar.

His presence.   He’s with me right now.  He’s everywhere.

I was reading a passage in Tolle last night.  Actually, writing it into a card to my beloved Spaniard for his birthday, as its one of the passages I asterisked and underlined quite forcefully.  Its page 104-5 – The Art of Listening, in Chapter 6: The Inner Body.

It’s about listening with your body.  With your Being.  “Feel the energy field of your inner body as you listen.”  It’s about shutting off the mind, the ego, and providing space to simply “be” to simply feel.  The greatest gift you can give to anyone.

you cannot feel someone else’s Being except through your own.  This is the beginning of the realization of oneness, which is love.  At the deepest level of Being, you are one with all of this.

And I don’t think that relates to just the living.  That same sensation and love I felt when me and Pedro would lie under the stars and truly listen to each other, let each other just be, is the same sensation I feel with Brendan.  Not when I’m lying numb on the bed cataloguing everything I’ve lost, but when I’m truly present and conscious.  Those moments in Burma when I was filled with all that light, the breakthrough in hospital when I realized that my journey was about making peace with, and accepting, self, love and death.

Nothing that is of value, nothing that is real, is ever lost. (p118)

There was a moment in meditation, that I’m yet to write about.  About day 7, maybe 8.  I was getting tired at this point.  No more “am i jesus” elevations, or witty inner narrations.  It was like a very prolonged mile 16-20 of the marathon.  No-man’s land.  No distractions.  Head down, pressed against the newly acquired back-rest, patch of skin to patch of skin to patch of skin.  The rising and falling of sensation to sensation.  Observe my reactions.  No more cravings, or aversions.  Non-attachment.  Patch of skin, to patch of skin.  Observation.

I was beginning to recognise and associate certain emotions with different parts of my body.  It was my right arm that was men and lovers.  Towards my hand and wrist, the fleeting flings and harmless crushes.   Forearm and elbow, relationships and the long-term unrequited.   As I climbed up towards my shoulder it was the true loves, the rape and bereavement.  Perhaps the things that were more deeply-rooted and cellular.  As the days wore on these sensations were getting stronger.  This day – it was Brendan.  True love and bereavement.  Somehow, without any thought or instruction, my meditation cut through the skin and went inside.  I lost all sense of time, could hear nothing but the beating of my heart and continued to observe and feel every patch of space, of blood, of organ.

The organ.  My heart.  It was all that was left.  This great thumping, beating heart.  The sound was overwhelming, and I was becoming that sound, and it was filling up with the heat and the energy of the purest emotion.

I don’t know how long it went on for, or why the moment passed when it did.  But eventually my observations went through the heart, into my rib-cage, and back out through the thin layer of skin across my collar-bone.  The pounding beat, slowly quietened, and I was left with a sadness that was pure and filled with love.

“nothing that is real is ever lost”.

So today, the sun is shining, and the worst of the storm is passed.  The connection with my Being is there once again, and I can feel that wonderful meta and warmth that comes from being in this world, that isn’t what they taught us, but what is.

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