Connection as Healing and Other Stuff

It’s 5pm on a Sunday evening. I’ve been meaning to get to the sanctuary of my loft to write all day, but first a task that I must accomplish, and then the sun is out, and I must read in the sun. And it might just be too late now, but I’m going to write anyway. I have a lot of this and thats, not any one thing in particular to write about. Maybe a theme will emerge, and maybe not. Since it feels like it might be just some rambling right now, I am addressing this blog entry as a letter to Blake, but Blake is in everyone. He is in all that are hurting, all that are loving, all that are driven to escape, and all that are seeking truth. He is we, and we are us.

My Dearest Blaker,

I have so much to tell you, and it is with deep gratitude that I know that you already know. I also know that you will listen to me tell you these stories and replay little snippets of my life for you, because love. Where to start…

I was just on the phone with Heather, and we were talking about a very special person’s journey to healing. She said that she believes this person’s healing really took hold because of her connection to her counselor. I believe that’s where all healing starts – with connection to another human. Johann Hari said that, “The opposite of addiction is not sobriety; the opposite of addiction is connection.” I believe this to be true. But I believe it goes further than this. The opposite of greed, the opposite of jealousy, the opposite of hatred, the opposite of self doubt,…and the list goes on, maybe not the opposite, but the antidote. We have the power to heal each other, if we just show up, ya know? It doesn’t have to be perfect; we just have to be willing. It’s going to be messy, and we’re going to make mistakes, but we’re also going to discover beauty within ourselves and within each other. That beauty, that light, inspires further healing, and the light radiates further, and allows us to reach out even more. There is no end to our capacity for healing, but we have to take that first step. We have to show up.

Why is it so hard to show up, so easy to hide away when we are feeling pain? For myself, sometimes I just want to crawl into a hole and isolate. I even know that showing up is the answer to my despair. And it’s not even that I want to stay in my pity party of one. Admittedly, I do like to spend time alone, but the being alone that I’m referring to is different than wanting to be alone to recharge. This kind of isolation is knowingly doing the opposite of what I know would boost my spirit. I don’t know why I do this. I bet you did this when you were in your physical form too. I know you did. I bet most people do this at one time or another.

I believe we have a choice to make. I have a choice to make. I can take all that I am, bottle it up, and stop becoming, or I can reach out and show up, even when the tears are flowing and the ‘ugly’ crying face is real, and I can be seen. And you know what happens when you or I show up like this? Other people cry too, because they have a similar experience or they can share our feelings or acknowledge the pain of what we’re feeling. Sometimes we show up to love, and sometimes we show up to be loved. When we don’t have enough love for ourselves or when we’re afraid we’re going to break if we’re in the presence of others, we have to show up. I’m not talking about showing up for obligations, I’m talking about showing up for a cup of coffee or tea with a friend, a walk, or a trip to the beach. It seems we occupy most of our time with the obligations and pass on the opportunities that contribute to our well being.

Just two weeks ago, I made a decision to refocus on my health and nutrition. You may have noticed that I’ve been throwing lots of stuff in the f#*! it bucket lately. That is the opposite of showing up. So I’m back on track and feeling better already. That helps me show up. It’s not easy to turn things around when you get off track, but baby steps are a good place to start.

Last weekend was a huge step. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to pay tribute to you. So many of the things I’ve thought about feel heavy to me right now. The shaman that I met with a few months ago told me that you advised that I didn’t need to continue fighting addiction, because I had done my time, and that if I did choose to continue fighting addiction, that it was my choice. I don’t feel like I can turn away from addiction because I have knowledge gained from an experience that is now killing 250 people a day. I cannot turn away from that. If my speaking up saves even one life, then it is worth it. So there will be an education and advocacy component. For those 250 lives lost though, there are 250 mothers, fathers, and siblings that are suddenly overcome with grief. For the ones that find themselves in this place, I want to show up. I want to show up with them. I want to celebrate you and all that you were, without this disease, and I want to celebrate their children too.

Someone posted this paragraph from the book “Beartown” by Fredrick Backman, on Facebook yesterday. It is such a beautiful and true description of the love between a parent and their child:

“The love a parent feels for a child is strange. There is a starting point to our love for everyone else, but not this person. This one, we have always loved, we loved them before they even existed. No matter how well-prepared they are, all moms and dads experience a moment of total shock, when the tidal waves of feelings first washes through them, knocking them off their feet. It’s incomprehensible, because there’s nothing to compare it to. It’s like trying to describe sand between your toes or snowflakes on your tongue, to someone who’s lived their whole life in a dark room. It sends the soul flying.”

It makes sense then, that when the physical being of a child is stripped from this Earth, from the arms of their parents, forever, that the souls of the parents would plummet to depths not meant to be seen. It is work to climb from those depths. It is the most unfair thing that could happen. It takes faith that the love remains and always will. The meaning that I make out of our last conversation including these two words continues to evolve. “Faith” and “love,” that is what this is all about – this child loss journey. And in the broader sense, that is what life is all about.

So last weekend, I went with friends to Lincoln City. We rented an AirBnB right on the beach. We had a view of the ocean from a big window in the living room. One of my friends has a child, Sean, who is with you on the Otherside. Two of my friends have children who are fighting addiction. We all know the realities of this disease. It is exhausting to parents who have a child with substance use disorder, but know that I’d do it all again knowing the outcome. I’m glad that the four of us moms found each other, and I wish that I had known them when you were present on Earth. I believe we are the only ones that can sit with each other, without judgment, and hear the details of how addiction steals our children, leaving us feeling frightened and helpless, although never hopeless, unless we lose.

But, we must go on right? I know, with every ounce of my being, that you expect me to go on, that you do not want me to bottle myself up. I know you want me to continue being the person you saw. So together, Kim and I, Jenn and Brandee, along with you and Sean, and many other angel children sent to us by their mothers, held a ceremony of dance and celebration on the beach at sunset. It was beautiful Blake. I know you were there. I know we were surrounded by angels. This ritual, as it will become, done with others, brought so much healing. It took me to another place – a place of deep connection and knowing, a place of being seen, where the love was acknowledged and celebrated and held in sacred space. It was freedom Blake.

Kim and I want more moms to experience this. We’re going to work on this with Jen and Brandee. It was Kim’s idea to invite Sacred Mamas to send us pictures of their angel children so that we could take them to the beach. I joined in after listening to an episode of Irene Weinberg’s “Grief and Rebirth” podcast with Paige W. Lee. I have since purchased Ms. Lee’s book “Choose to Believe: A Story of Miracles, Healing, and the Afterlife,” which I recommend. While listening to this podcast, I got chills that vibrated up and down my whole body. It was a knowing that healing is possible. In that moment, I felt inspired to show up for healing, to take action for my own healing, and in that process, the healing of others. Like I said before, it doesn’t have to be perfect; we just have to be willing. I know that healing the self inspires others to heal, even if they think they can’t or they think they aren’t ready. We can sit side by side and just accept each other where we are, and we can take each others’ hand, and walk together. I wish you had found that profound sense of connection.

We played in the sand Blake. I built rock creatures, one representing you, and one representing Sean. Kim and I talked to our rock creature sons and posed for pictures. You and Sean were probably laughing with each other at your silly moms. But you know we did this because we love you both so much. Play is healing, and playing together is exponentially more healing.

As a group, we made a mandala. The first time the four of us got together after we met as a group for the first time on Advocacy Day (which was on your birthday last year), we met to pick fruit. Out in the orchard, we made our first group mandala. I believe it will be a thing we do together wherever we go. Mandalas are a creation of beauty and connection. The circle, representing the concept of no beginning and no end, is a representation of our love for our children. I also believe that it is a representation of life, although in human form, we recognize a beginning and an end. We worked on the design together and carefully set the rocks for symmetry, so that one side mirrored the other, which to me signifies giving and receiving light. Stepping inside our mandala creation, we joined hands and shared energy.

It was a beautiful weekend and very difficult to return to the work week. On Friday morning, you showed up as a robin, or you sent a robin, to get my attention by repeatedly flying into the living room window. You know, some people might think believing in signs like I do is crazy, but it doesn’t matter. It’s what I feel in my heart. It’s faith and love, right? So the robin – I’ve read before that this bird has spiritual significance, so I looked it up. On learnreligions.com, it says, “A little robin, with its quirks, is a messenger sent by the divine and the angels to remind you that you are not alone. Even when inside you are not alone. A robin looks for a mate to create a family. Robins leave their home to migrate, and they gather together as a community when food is scarce. They have to go out into that big world, and it takes all their strength to do so…Your robin brings the message of strength. It reminds you to never give up and that you are strong. Have faith in your strength and in your future. Your robin is here to teach you that it may not seem so quite yet, but the world is a safe place for you.”

Then yesterday, I was sitting outside reading the book I talked about earlier. The shade started creeping up on me, so I moved to a sunnier spot. I was sitting there for a few minutes, when I noticed this big white rock about four feet away from me. This was a glistening rock and not native to our area. It looked like it had been outside for some time, as it was dirty on one side. I picked it up and moved it to the table on the deck, intending to research its healing properties later. This morning, dad saw the rock as soon as he woke up. I told him where I found it, and he went out to look at it, determining that it was quartzite. Crystalangelwings.com has this to say about quartzite: “Quartzite stabilizes positive changes by anchoring them in the fabric of your physical subtle bodies. It helps prevent you from slipping back to your old state after you undergo any uplifting change, such as a healing or spiritual experience.” What a beautiful and meaningful gift – an acknowledgment of this journey!

Thank you for the gift of you, in life and in death. I’d do anything to bring you back to your physical form, free from the grips of addiction, if that was possible. Since I know it’s not, I must be with what is, and what is is a continuation of our relationship of love and discovery and learning. You’ve always ignited my curiosity in possibility and challenged my understanding of what is seen and unseen. Of course you would continue to do that in your new free form.

I love you to infinity and beyond!

Your Mama