a year since death

It's one year on from Hans's death, August 8th. I was in the kitchen one morning sitting around the kitchen table with the lady I live with and her friend. I wasn't sure if I quite took to her friend, I judged her as an old hippie. I mostly listened to their conversation, not sharing much of myself. Suddenly she turned to me and asked me to share the story of my fiancé and his death.

I began to share the story

"No, stop. You're avoiding . Go back to the memory of the day he died. Feel it. What do you remember?"

"He died all alone," I cried. 

"You really think so?" she replied. "You think that him lying in his bed, he was the only one in the room? You don't think maybe he was surrounded by his ancestors, by other beings which we cannot see. You really think he was alone?"

"You're right," I said. She was helping me to reframe the memory, the guilt, the horror, the distress, of picturing him lying there in a bed, dying all alone, into one where he was surrounded by angels, by those formless beings from another timeline.

 One of the reasons I chose to come to the beach early in the morning was to practise the Sudarshan Kriya breathing technique I learned in India, from Guru Sri Sri. I've been avoiding it. When I take a long slow breath, it's as if my lungs feel disturbed by what they know will be brought up; grief and shock. They don't want them to be revealed. They don't want them to surface, They want to stay hidden where they feel safe. When I breathe slowly and deeply, these hidden emotions begin to move and they don't like it. It has been one year now, and yet the shock from my loved one taking his own life still lies within me, not completely healed.

So today I assured myself that I would tread gently. I could go gently and slowly through the breathing practice. As promised I completed just one round of the three, without criticising myself. Lying down in the sand, letting the tears flow down my face, as memories of Hans revealed themselves from the depths of my lungs where I store my grief. I could feel his sadness and my sadness- my sadness that I was not able to rescue him. I had to save myself and that took time. I couldn't rescue him. He drowned and I had to swim to the top of the ocean without him. I had to swim from the bottom of the ocean as if his dead body was tied to me, and swim upwards. It took me a year of feeling like this, but I finally surfaced gasping for air. 

Life right now is not "exciting", it's not a summer romance, I'm not high on life and love, but it's also not turbulent. It's gentle and peaceful. There is plenty of spaciousness. An opportunity to let go of the past, without hurrying to fill the emptiness. 

It's a huge step up from wanting to die. Appreciating the simplicity of everyday life. Laying new foundations with the space to reflect on what those foundations might be. Building a new life, being mindful of every step I take.

-i may be a little distracted this week, as my memory turns to Hans. I want to take it gently this week as the memories resurface and I make time to mourn the loss of him and let go of more layers, I will authentically make content as I feel drawn....

Wishing you a peaceful week.

If you have lost someone dear to you and you would like to talk about it, please reach out for a video call....i'm always here for you my patrons xxx