An Emptiness Nonetheless

Last Monday someone I knew died after a year-long battle with cancer. She was not a friend or family member, but someone who affected my daily life. We had a difficult relationship and it was not always pleasant. I am, of course, sad to have watched a person suffer and end life in an unnatural way.

I'm not familiar with slow death, nor am I experienced grieving for people who brought challenge to my daily life. It was a sad realization last week when I discovered that I missed her. It felt as if I was holding my breath, waiting for her to walk through the door.

Grieving the loss of this person and our tumultuous relationship hit me much harder than I expected. That reality scared the shit out of me. If I feel this way about losing her, how the hell would I survive losing someone I loved? For a day or two I was emotionally paralyzed by that thought and I wanted to draw my dearest people up in my arms and not let them go outside. The intricate, delicate beauty of my loved ones shone like sun-drenched snowflakes in my mind and I hated life in that instant for being fragile. Fuck lessons in impermanence, I wanted to shout. Yet I know that to love causes pain and that to live requires an end in some form. I've always known that, believed that, and lived that.

This past week has shown me that I am unprepared for many things. I see how fortunate I am to have my loving and living be relatively free of the pain and endings that I know come with the territory. All I can think to do is continue on with gratitude.

The Air I Breathe

Here on the precipice of Equinox the landscape seems vastly different from Lammas. Clearly there has been growth, for now all around me I see bounty and beauty. Like the cycle of the garden, some of my personal bounty is withered and dying and returning to the Earth to fertilize future growth. I'm enriching my soil. In other areas I see nothing but fresh fruit, ripe for picking and enjoying.

Mr. Man has settled comfortably into school, such a relief from the difficult adjustment he had last year. I think I see the hint of pride in his eyes as he describes how he confidently began to dig into his work on the first days of school. His teacher agrees that he has matured so much.

My wife, ever the amazing woman, still wrestles the beast of migraines. Like the stock market recently she has great good days and awful bad days and it's anyone's guess what's the cause. Tonight she seems taken by some crazy food poisoning or food allergy reaction that's had her puking by the side of the road and huddled over the toilet all night. In her weakest, sickest state I still find her beautiful and powerful.

The joy of the start of school is that once again my wife has need to pass by my office on the way to and from school. I've seen her three times so far this week for lovely lunch, coffee and kissing breaks. Her face brings pleasure to my otherwise painful work day. I pity the other schmucks around me who don't have it this good.

My own wellness is at an all-time peak. I'm riding to work every day and enjoying crossfit classes. In July and August Mr. Man and I rode three 28-30 mile rides. I'm stronger and leaner than I have been in at least two years and I feel fabulous. Aspects of my life are stressful and busy, but I feel well-balanced enough to ride the waves instead of get pulled under.

There's even new joy in my life in the form of a suitor. It's been years since I've started a relationship with a new partner and I'm finding this beginning to be particularly sweet.

So you see, bounty is thick in the air I breathe. Happy Mabon.

A Harvest Requires Growth

Today, on Lammas, I think about the harvest in my life. What is ripe and ready to pluck from the vine? What has steadfastly and efficiently used its resources to grow?

I'm having trouble seeing these things. Recent days have been difficult, with my wife in near constant pain for the last week. Running the pain gauntlet with her, even as a passive witness, wears me down. It seems ridiculous to be exhausted by her experience, since I'm not the one living through the pain and its fog of medication. Yet here I am coming up empty when I ponder what harvest to honor in my life.

I suppose there is the fact that I have been good to my body recently, feeding it whole foods and consistently exercising. This is in stark contrast to late May and June, when I was back on the sugar train and drinking too much alcohol. Getting back off processed sugar and focusing on goodness for my body has been one way I've grown this season.

However, the emotional harvest I would expect to experience as a result of my physical wellness has yet to materialize. If anything, I'm less present and self-aware than when I was sugared up and drinking regularly. Apparently I am like a transitional farm, slowly weaning itself from the toxins it used to apply.

My emotional health has not flourished like my physical health has, making me feel stunted rather than vibrant and growing. It's hard to find evidence of the harvest in a landscape of misshapen plants.

Yet, I am aware there is a rich harvest around me. I'm not blind to the beauty and bounty surrounding me; I am aware and grateful for it. I am merely waiting to see this mirrored in me.

I suppose the thing about growth is that it comes in stages and isn't always recognizable. There's also the potential that the process of growth itself is its own harvest. Wherever I happen to be right now in the process, I honor it.