Reprieve... CONNECTION!

Thank you, all of you, for your sympathy, empathy really.

I feel joyfully foolish, though certainly not foolishly joyful!

I have found the cousins I was seeking. An address now listed as a different town than the one we refer to, listed as one I believed to be miles to the east, a telephone listing and newspaper mentions using a different first name, and with it numerous locations... a map that looks different-- more streets than I remember, than possibly there were when I visited that magical crossroads.



Found found found! And when I called what I thought to be this "other location", to see if there was any current affiliation with the family from "that" town, the young girl said, "Oh I wouldn't know; I'm new and not related to the family here... "And proceeded to refer me to my father's cousin, directly! (TG)

We have spoken, and emailed. My heart is replete. My joy is returned.

I feel silly to have suffered seemingly needlessly, though on further introspection, further assimilation or perhaps in stillness and serenity, I see the need for such experiences; to be called, to be galvanized to do that which we would put off again for another day, which we will certainly not have limitless tomorrows to accomplish. A gift.

Second miracle:

Amazingly enough, my spouse, who has endured my tears and joys and entreaties to go back, had an experience tonight. Away on business, and sharing experiences after a work session, someone told of their 2 trips to Ireland. When asked what part was the ultimate for them, they shared a story of a family pub where they were so very welcomed on their first trip; a warm magical place. When the time came for their second visit, years later, they found themselves traveling 400 miles out of their way to return to this wonderful family and their pub. They couldn't leave without seeing them once more. They named the place, the town, the family I was searching for-- the very ones! I am overwhelmed... this cannot be mere coincidence. Their magic is evident, as is the magic that is spurring me on now, to make this trip!

In all that I have experienced and surrendered these past months, too, I feel the cycle of life is bringing to me the exercise of surrender, so that when the big storms come, I am not brittle, do not break...

>

For eventually, the bigger storms do come.

Just not today.

;)

ps Noreen, Ciara, and anyone else, please? If you figure it out, please don't give me away! I tell you, the world is getting smaller, as I am becoming more transparent, every day... as is my true nature I suppose... ;)

ne sutor ultra crepidam

It has all become over-proofed. Like the dough, too long, the yeast extended to it's greatest, and it's product, co2, has run out of space to expand-- poof... there is nothing else to contain it. Odd that what has been experienced as joy, and potential joy, life changing energy, loosed for the common good, imperceptibly perceived by all, for weeks, even months, should escape as grief...

After all, joy is not happiness. They are not interchangeable. My heart has been inexplicably full, and I have been grateful. It has been evidenced in real (however transitory) changes in my life, my relationships, my perspective.

And yet, here I am, in grief.

My father is slipping away... I need to see him, to talk to him, to be with him, and yet am not able. Obstacles, which I allow, and obstacles outside anyone's control, get in the way. I experience him alone, without him here. Yet, he is not gone. Not yet, but slipping, slipping...

My teenager no longer needs me like once upon a time-- I never imagined how painful that could be. I embrace it in theory, yet my heart... it does not. Not yet. I know the person he needs to become, but transition is difficult; letting go of a connection, even relatively little by little, to a heart that was once so completely bound up in your own, is painful. It tears at me, causes me to behave outside of the love that I feel, and I am ashamed.

My hoped for friend, friendship offered, gently proffered, is not. I can no longer. How strange that I should feel so real a connection to one who claims their heart is closed, that life is trivial, that no real human connection can ever be made. How strange that our conversations awakened in me a recognition of the freeing nature of sublime beauty, of tragedy, of interconnectedness. How strange that their words should be cosmically moving to me, through no intent of their own, nor any recognition. Perhaps it is my own unwitting perception of this human tragedy that made our brief acquaintanceship so poignant. Yet I believe, I know there is more to it than that.

I am an adult, not some teen with grand illusions, nor hoped for allusions... I am not naive. So often cynical in the past, I now strive to intentionally create my own life's reality, with that which is within my power, and yet. And yet.

There are things I am powerless to control. Such a balance to be struck.

Soon, the door will open-- less than 5 minutes. The time for peace, for pure, shoulder shaking grief will rapidly wither, the pile of spent snowman napkins will be thrown away.

And I will go on with the duties in front of me, grateful for this pain-- that it should find an appropriate time, that it should be released. For now. I will go on with my day.


William Shakespeare:
Go to your bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

Carl Jung:
Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.