No ghosts this time. Not real ones, anyway. I've been thinking about Paul Byck and another old acquaintance who both passed away a year ago this month.
I think there is a curse that abides in grief that many of us don't recognize. It is the curse of attempting to intellectualize the experience - to try to understand that which we have absolutely no capacity to understand. How could it possibly be that Paul does not exist in this world anymore? Where is Noah? What happened to Henry? What could Billy possibly be doing at this moment?
It speaks to the issue of trust, then; that is, a need to go as deeply as possible into ourselves and see that we do, in fact, understand at a very fundamental level - at an instinctual level - in the heart, perhaps. It is all right in front of us. We are all members of life, and regardless of death - in fact, in spite of it - we are part of something that connects us all - that is so much bigger than we can appreciate - and it inevitably leads us to trusting that there is more to all of this thing we call life than just being in the moment.
What we must do is remember when we lose loved ones. See them in our daily lives: in our values, our commitments, our children, our surroundings, in all the people whom we have loved and who are not with us in the moment. Most importantly, we need to recognize them as fellow members of life who have just moved on to a different place - one which we have no hope of understanding, but one in which they live, breathe, flourish... and wait to join us when our time comes.
And...our time will come. It is the one thing that reminds us of how we are connected and how it is that we are a part of it all. Before. During. After.
Think about someone you've lost today, and remember that they are, indeed, still alive.
Remember.
Paul
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