I awaken to a new dawn, the terrors of the dark night behind me. I look around at my surroundings and am grateful for what I find. My body is intact, though a bit neglected. My mind is numb from the overstimulation of the recent events. My spirit is a little beat up, but is recognizable. I'm here, I'm whole. I survived. The scenery is familiar, though there are some divots and a few small fires burning in the distance through the morning haze. There is nothing here I cannot accept.
Going through the trauma of divorce takes its toll on us physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually and behaviorally. Most of us have not, and may never be, as heavily stressed in our lives as we have during divorce. We are left with wounds that need to heal: exhuastion, tension, fatigue, pain, anxiety, depression, poor concentration, a loss of interest, doubt. We wonder if we will ever be able to trust again or love again. Relationships that have been taxed need to mend with our children and other loved ones. There is so much destruction that now needs to heal. But first, we need to heal ourselves.
After trauma and devastation, we may find ourselves in an almost eerie silence and calm. We no longer cry ourselves to sleep, or awaken with our tears. The rage is subsiding; the confusion and fear fading. We are no longer so desperately needy of support and release our friends and families to tend to their own lives again. The stillness we find ourselves in is a pivotal point in our recovery.
This is the time to simply "be" and become the observer. Allow all the confusion, questions and fears to subside. No decisions need to be made today or even tomorrow. No papers need to be changed immediately. We need to let ourselves off the hook and ignore the world for awhile. We need to feel our ground again, feel our core, our solid center. We get far from that in divorce, but can't move forward with confidence and balance without it.
I find it extremely difficult to meditate during times of stress, or shortly after the stress. That kind of focus is just not readily available to me. But it is not necessary. We don't need to push ourselves back into meditation or prayer, there are other ways to be still. I love this quote:
“You need not leave your room.
Remain sitting at your table and listen.
You need not even listen, simply wait.
You need not even wait, just learn to become quiet, and still, and solitary.
The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked.
It has no choice; it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.”
Franz Kafka, Prague
When we sit with a quiet mind, allowing thoughts to melt away, and just be-ing with our breath, our thoughts quiet down, our worries evaporate like the mist in the morning, our lungs fill deeper, our hearts open wider. The quieter we get, the more aware we become.
I was teaching my bouncing, boistrous little seven-year-old how to "be" in nature. I took her to the edge of a small creek. I told her to sit on a rock and watch. About 30 seconds went by when she complained that she there was nothing to watch and wanted to go back. But we remained, a bit more patient and quieter this time, and within no more than two minutes the magic began: dragonflies skimmed just inches over the surface of the water. Slivers of little fish came over to her feet that were dangling in the water. Frogs the size of a nickel appeared with a surprisingly loud clicking call. A bee buzzed nearby. We noticed a snake curled up in the reeds that we had not noticed before. Above, we heard the screech of a hawk and saw the gentle glide of the buzzards against a cloudless sky. Yellow flowers filled a cactus bush. The smell of a distant fire mixed with the aroma of fresh spring grasses. We watched as ants marched in a single file off to some unknown destination.
Within just a few minutes, this quiet little creekbed exploded with abundant life, action and sound. There was a realization of an entire critter community that lived beneath our feet and above our heads. The more we watched, the more we grew in awe. The more our awe grew, the more our hearts grew. We were connecting to the Earth, the Creator, and one another. We had a lovely, slow stroll back to the house, hand in hand, feeling grateful for this mystical world we live in. What a gift those 12 minutes were.
When we stop to "be" we are reminded that there is beauty and peace readily available to us. If it is too difficult to meditate or pray, don't. We only have to be still, quiet and receptive to what has been given to us simply by arriving on this Earth. Creation brings us closer to our true selves, our Higher Power, our Source, to God. It reminds us that inside, we are are perfect and whole as is. We are children of this universe, we belong, we are loved and we are important.
Breathe in in the beauty and peace of nature. Allow it to fill every cell. Let it always remind us of our innate wisdom and knowlege, and of the creative and loving creatures we are.
(c) Joni James 2009
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