To the person in grief,
To the person in tears,
May your agony be brief,
May the memory last for years.
To the endless skies,
To the light in your eyes,
To your voice in my head keeps me up morning in bed.
May you roam free,
In a body without scars,
To the place that you seek,
Where tears become stars.
This is dedicated to all those who were lost in flesh,
Yet found in light,
Their body no longer a burden,
Their physical earthly limitations no longer in the way,
Just a spirit flying free to the endless golden sky.
Now I am not in a position to heal your pain,
Time will do that,
And time being the vehicle towards healing.
It comes with its mechanical parts and an instruction manual written in gibberish.
We cannot make sense of it all.
If we knew what the manual said,
We would heal just like that.
It doesn't work that way.
Life lies in mystery,
The discovery,
The experience,
Bound by the well of emotions.
The parts that constitute this vehicle are made of friends,
Family,
Loved ones,
Therapist,
Bereavement counselor,
A priest,
A healer,
And so on.
You get the picture.
Some parts will work and others will fail.
What matters is that you keep the vehicle moving,
To keep trying new things,
Little snippets of hope to aid towards your journey of healing.
Even though I cannot heal your pain,
I am in a position however to empathize with you,
As I am also going through the grieving process in this very moment.
Just days ago,
A person close to my heart passed away.
It is hard,
It is painful,
There is nothing I can do about it.
Change is hard,
We dread it,
Avoid it,
Prefer not to speak about it,
Let alone a permanent change such as death.
The magnitude of this change is so deep that it shakes up our reality.
Is it real?
We question.
Are emotions up in turmoil?
Are brains trying to conjure up a logical explanation?
My hope during these next few minutes is that the weight becomes lighter,
For the dark to become brighter,
And for your consciousness to rise a little bit higher,
To get a breath of fresh air,
Spiritually speaking.
There's a quote by Edgar Toller in his book A New Earth,
He says life has no opposite,
The opposite of death is birth,
Life is eternal.
I really like this fresh perspective on life.
Life is a constant,
Perhaps not in the empirical earthly stage,
The one we experience at this very moment,
But in another stage beyond the physical,
Beyond what we can see or touch.
Death,
Birth are just lines,
Chapters,
Pages,
That make up the infinite book of life.
Another quote by Jack Thorne,
He says those we love never truly leave us,
They are things that death cannot touch.
And for the next few minutes,
Let's focus our attention to those things that death cannot touch.
The love you feel for the person you lost,
The memories,
The voice in your head,
The face,
Pet peeves,
All of the characteristics that made this person who they are.
And I say are,
Because they still live in your heart.
Let us now visualize a small balloon of warm light emanating from your heart.
With each breath,
Inflate this light,
Just like a hot air balloon ready to take flight,
To take off from the ground.
Your breath is the fanning of the flame to keep this balloon of light afloat.
There is no destination,
Just floating here in space.
And feeling what goes on,
Observing what goes on.
How does your heart rate feel?
How does your back feel?
Your head?
Your legs?
Your hands?
Is there any discomfort in the body at this moment?
Now,
Bring your awareness back to the balloon of light.
Let it grow bigger,
Brighter,
Warmer.
Feed this visualization with your breath.
In this balloon,
You notice a wicker basket hanging from below.
You find yourself standing in this basket,
A vista of golden clouds beneath you,
The horizon bathed in the light of the sun.
You look down at your hands,
For they are also kissed by the light of the sun.
You feel its warmth,
And you look up at the blinding hot air balloon carrying you through space.
Your eyes now look in front of you,
And you see the person you lost standing there.
A gentle smile,
And hands open wide,
Gesturing you to come in for a hug.
You take a step forward and enter the warm and comforting embrace.
You rest your head on the shoulder and stay here for a little while,
In silence,
In peace,
Breath by breath,
Floating together through light.
You bring the awareness back to the breath.
You notice the golden sea of clouds beneath you,
The hot air balloon carrying you,
Beaming with light.
Still resting on the shoulder of your loved one,
You notice the smell,
You notice the hands wrapped around you.
You lift up your head and you both turn to see the view beneath you.
Just float in here,
Be in here,
In silence,
In presence,
In a state of loving.
Acceptance.
You start noticing your body,
The one listening to this meditation.
You feel the toes,
You feel the fingers.
Just bring yourself gently back to life.
Deepen and awaken the breath.
Infuse yourself with spirit.
With each inhale,
Feel warmth rising within the heart,
Just like the light of the hot air balloon.
Warming you,
Illuminating you,
Bathing you in its blinding embrace.
This warmth within your heart stands as a column of light,
Like a candle in the dark in honor to the person you lost.
This candle stands for light,
The light in your dark,
The light of the soul of the person who is in transit.
Honor this candle,
Honor this flame,
For it is always within you,
You just have to notice.
You have to bring yourselves back to the awareness of this candle being there,
Burning in a steady flame.
To close off this meditation,
I'll read out a poem.
And this poem is open to interpretation,
Not to be taken literally,
It is poetry after all.
Meant to illuminate the hidden creative chambers of the heart,
And not fan the grinding gears of the mind.
The poem by Claire Harner,
Immortality.
Do not stand by my grave and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints in snow.
I am the sunlight on rippened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
As you awake with morning's hush,
I am the swift upflinging rush of quiet birds encircling flight.
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand by my grave and cry.
I am not there,
I did not die.
