The five “action” points in Mike’s following blog post are at once provocative and so chewy they’re almost grisly… but in a good way. Lots to ponder in each point, but one I kept being drawn back to was an insight the Australian Buddhist seemed to casually ponder as an afterthought:
There is work for me to do around grief and trauma and Dad and Mum but it has to lead me to think more broadly about the consequences of relationships of all types. Sometimes we never get to say goodbye.
A significant part of my own healing was being called home to care for my 90-year-old cancer-ridden father for several weeks before he died back in 2007. Even though much of the profound turmoil between us ended well before Joy and I moved far away from them back in 1989, I had always carried the unspoken burden of unspoken, unresolved issues going back to my teens.
As you have likely guessed, Dad died without my having the long-sought luxury of leveling the playing field I imagined we had been on all those years. It was 1:30 a.m. in the middle of a warm San Diego September night. I was drinking yet another beer, holding his hand while patiently sitting next to the hospice bed he had been inhabiting for weeks on end. And he just… quietly slipped away. With a very tranquil look on his face. I sat there for 10 minutes still holding his hand, looking at him resting peacefully, and finally said, “Well, Dad. That is so like you to beat last call.”
It was on the flight back to Indy that God nudged me to let me know my healing was in caring for my father; my healing was in feeding and bathing and cleaning up after him, keeping him comfortable and simply being present to him. It was God’s place to level my anticipated playing field. That became a much more profound truth for me in 2010 when I sobered up in A.A.
Anyway, read the second of three installments from dharmaholic. The first one is here.
This is for the many who have been broken by the words and deeds of man. God can bring healing and restoration if we just trust Him and give Him the broken pieces. Broken and restored… more beautiful than before… like this cracked pottery… filled with gold and more. For when we are broken… then […]
via Broken and Restored… — The Abuse Expose’ with Secret Angel
… if you think it’s all an accident, it’s not.
Ah… here’s something gracious to make one stop to simply breathe deeply and appreciate the fall colors this Friday morning.
There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.
One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains.
Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.
We cannot undo a single act we performed; we cannot erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone forever.
The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with all its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and its poor performance; Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control.
Tomorrow’s sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, for it is yet to be born.
This leaves only one day, Today. Any person can fight the battle of just one day.
It is when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.
It is not the experience of Today that drives a person mad, it is the remorse or bitterness of something which happened Yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.
Let us, therefore, Live but one day at a time.
Succinctly written post from Paul W at 12 the Hard Way on the difference between truth and reality:
. . . these pillars of truth that I constructed . . . were hard reminders that everything’s stacked against me, that things will never go my way, and that there’s a secret society of people bent on destroying me from within. They’re called friends and family. There’s an elaborate underground network of all the people in my life, and they’re all making sure that I’m kept in the dark, and that what’s really going on is never known to me. On bad days I assume that the program’s in on it too.
Indeed. Read the whole thing.