On the day when the lotus bloomed alas, my mind was straying, and I knew it not. My basket was empty and the flower remained unheeded.
Only now and again a sadness fell upon me, and I started up from my dream and felt a sweet trace of a strange fragrance in the south wind.
That vague sweetness made my heart ache with longing and it seemed to me that it was the eager breath of the summer seeking for its completion.
I knew not then that it was so near, that it was mine, and this perfect sweetness had blossomed in the depth of my own heart.
(Rabrindranath Tagore, Gitimalya 17/ Visva-Bharati, Gitabitan 137 (Puja))
I write on this day when so many lines of what once was and is, now intersect; when what was eventual, has passed.
My love has gone for most of this week, and we will be together only one day, and then I am gone for two weeks. My daughter leaves home when I am gone… overseas for two months, then to university in a city I have never been to. I will come back from this yoga intenstive I am going on, Svasti assures me, changed. In the meantime, my life changes forever.
The ghost of the past touched a brief shadow over a conversation I had with my daughter. She confirmed the decision I had made and the selfishness I rejected. How could you -if you are reading this post- leave your middle child out of your Christmas celebration when he needs you most? Yes, he is devstated. Why do you think he is stoning so much? Why did you leave, run away like you always have, instead of facing your problems?
This selfishness is why I did not choose you.
Do you recognise the song above? You gave me the book. I use it here to let you know that you are still selfish, uncaring, unthinking to those who matter most. You hurt them. Not me. I do not know you anymore.
And now to you, my unthinking ex-husband (who is a luddite and will never read this post). Norm passed away on Thursday afternoon. Thank you for calling me and letting me know (not). I found out via Mum and Dad. You called THEM. Not me, not your son. Do you not think we care and loved Norm, too? I know you are hurting because he was the father you never had – but if you can think of anything- how about being the father to your own son and having some respect for those who were and still are your family?
And of course, all this happens when Gary is not here.
Ben and I cried together for Norm, so full of life, so patient, so indestructable, and the vicious disease that took him so quickly. He did not deserve it, but it is as it is … and I KNEW HE HAD PASSED. Damn it, somehow I knew.
Change… change… sounds like a shit load of change in the air. Its already started and there’s more to come. Just got off the phone to one of my yogini sisters who, is providing much needed support and reflection right now. I’m afloat on a sea of wonderous people from RL and my digital world providing help and love.
And it seems there are many people I know who are going through extreme change right now…
No matter what kind, change is stressful. Especially when its being resisted. When my yogi/yogini school is about to head to retreat, often there are several people who feel utter dread, knowing they are about to step into the pressure cooker – willingly – and the impending change they sense causes terror.
Your ex sounds like a doofus (good Aussie word I believe), but then when relationships die, some people feel the need to be as doofus-like as possible. They don’t know how else to relate. I guess you can be grateful he at least called your parents. Maybe that was as good as he could give?
I am sorry for your loss. I hope you return from your inner and outer travels rejuvenated and having peeled another layer of the onion.
Amanda, I am so sad to hear of your loss. You have not sounded happy on this blog for a little while. I can do nothing for you but send you love & light and peace and strength. I really hope things improve for you soon. Hang in there – and do nice stuff for yourself, if makes you feel better 🙂
Thanks Svasti & Anne-Marie,
I’m going to be scarce for a couple of weeks due to the yoga intensive I’m going on. I’m feeling quite stressed and apprehensive about it. Like I’d really rather stay home… which is really odd because this is something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time.
Oh well. Too late now.
My ex finally rang this afternoon and left a message for Ben (our son).
Anyway, I had an absolutely shitty day. Everything from photocopier jams to getting bogged on both axles to phone redialing not working. You name it, it’s happened to me.
Maybe I will just retreat to bed with a book.
So sorry to hear about your loss. Best wishes for your yoga intensive.
Not completely clear on the family relations but, speaking as a grown middle child, having told family members that they can spend the holidays without me if they’re not going to respect my feelings–and, suspecting that they just may do just that, now fielding offers from friends for Christmas dinner…I think I can relate….
you’ve been tagged . it’s completely optional.
Hey darlin’, don’t know how you feel about such things but I’ve just handed you a fresh steaming hot blog award… toddle over if you want to accept.
Hope the intensive is going well. I’ve been thinking of you…