So, the grandpa I wrote about in my last blog has a name. I’ts Bob. There are a number of Bobs that live in my facility. This one, it turns out, has been living in my facility for a long time. I opened up a document the other day that told me he’d been suffering miserably on and off since 2013 with the same issues: mental illness and UTI’s. The UTI creates greater distress in his mental un-wellness. His son and daughter both live near by in Colorado. The daughter has disowned him. The son will still see and speak with him occasionally. Bob spent Thanksgiving Day with neither child. I believe he was up in his room, all alone, making himself sicker and sicker with worry. His wife passed – probably before 2013.
The other night (Saturday the 25th), I was doing my meditation thing. Sitting, and feeling all my feelings; just allowing all my “stuff” to come up – fear, anxiety, insecurity, uncertainty, doubt. I sit with that stuff regularly and I sometimes cry over it and then let it go, loving myself through it all. Sometimes, I have to sit in a bath and let is out through my pores. Sometimes, I have to go to yoga class and work that stuff out of me, physically. It’s becoming more clear to me with time what needs to be done to handle my own inner angst. So, it’s ritual and I believe is absolutely necessary for me to stay alive and focused (more on this in next blog: vegetarianism).
So, Bob came up in my meditation. I saw him, felt his pain, felt his terror through the portal of my mind/being. Felt my own terror at not knowing how to be around his terror without feeling effected by it. I allowed myself to “just be” with Bob through imagination (if you will) here in my sanctuary (my apartment). I recognized my fear in dealing with him – I understood that the reason he causes so much distress in me is that I can feel and understand his pain. I see myself in him – the part of myself that I don’t want to let control my life, if you know what I mean. I don’t want to be Bob. I really don’t ever want to handle my life the way Bob’s handling his life. He feels sorry for himself, is terribly lonely, and wants to die because he can’t handle the pain, but also lacks the ability to take the initiative to end his life. Yes, that’s me. I’ve had so much pain in my life and if I focus on it, I can work myself right into the frenzy that I’ve seen Bob spin in. It bothers me that Bob can’t see how he’s effecting others with his body of pain. I isolate myself from others when I get “bad” so that others don’t have to feel burdened by my need to be coddled – my need to heal. Bob lacks this sensitivity and is in such a bad way that he distresses anybody who will look at him. Others shy away and stay clear because they’re not so comfortable dealing with the discomfort, either.
So, here in my sanctuary, I embraced all of this understanding and I held Bob (through imagination, again) in loving arms. Healed him with my love, let my tears wash over him, and I wept and wept in my kitchen, in my dining area, in my living area – for Bob’s mind, heart, and being. Then, I felt all that pain and tension in my body, and began to move my body – to move energy through my body to clear the pain and tension. I had to work all the joints, open my arms wide and circle my shoulder joints as if I am a bird, practicing my flight. On my yoga mat, I worked through the angst. If someone could have looked through my blinds and seen me doing my thing, they’d have thought I was ready for the mental-locker, myself. I took all the imagined pain and suffering and loved it right into oblivion and melted myself down with the effort – but when it was over – wow. I was healed. I was fresh. I was in love.
The next day (yesterday- 11/26) I found Bob sitting in the dining room with a lady at a table. It’s a lady who hates me (and quite possibly, the whole world), but I was glad to see her keeping Bob company. Moments before spotting him, I told my boss I was going to stop into Bob’s room and check on him to make sure he’s okay. I hope to perform Reiki on Bob and work with him on breathing techniques and letting go of his fear and worry. I want to walk him through the steps of cultivating his own peace. I want him to be able to recognize his own experience and to turn it to something he feels good about.
Upon spotting Bob at the table, I stopped and sort of squatted in front him, to talk to him. I held his hand, looked him in the eye and told him I’d been thinking of him and praying for him. I told him that I want him to feel good, and happy to be alive. I want him to know that he’s loved and cared for, that he’s not alone, he has us. He cried a little and held my one hand with his two. He thanked me and asked that I pray that he gets to see his family again before he dies. I let him know that I would but that if he could see that he’s surrounded by family that loves him, he might feel even better from this immediate family than he could ever feel from seeing his son or daughter. He understood. I felt the connection between us soften, lighten, and become that of peace. I am learning to look at my own terror and pain, despair and grief with a loving heart of acceptance. This last week, it happened through the body and mind of Bob’s existence. Bob is my teacher, my grandfather, my love and certainly a light. This is what it means to be “In Love.” Not resisting reality, not running, not freaking out – just acknowledging, understanding, opening, accepting, and then loving and letting go.
Peace, this morning.
Peace, all day.
Not in the environment around me, but inside of me. And it makes a difference. My peace matters. So does yours. I love you.