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Surrender

I've been avoiding this post.

Who knows what will spill out when I open this topic? I am not afraid for you, but I am afraid for me.

Could I lose myself in this pool of sadness, not because I would drown in it, but because I might forget to stop holding my breath.

You see that quote at the top of my blog? I've decided that it would be more accurate for me, in this moment, if it read:

"Thou hast the seeds of all-embracing life within thyself--if, and only if, you, my beloved, are here--and if not with me, then, at the least, alive and well in the flesh--vibrant and joyously walking your path to peace."

Isn't that what would have been written, had the author known the experience of our love, the one that changed the entire landscape of my world in less words than it took your loved ones to honor your memory in the morning paper.

Without you here, I've lost all contact with the ground, with the past, with the present, with the future, where one day you'd come back to me. You were always coming back to me, right? Don't all roads lead to Rome? Weren't we supposed to end up there together?

I had to fight the urge to run, as I sat down next to you, the closest I've been to you since my exile--six-feet above.

That's enough for now.

Let's get to the bottom line here, the synthesis of synthesis. After so many days of grappling with being in a world where you are no longer, let me tell you about how my beliefs about God (or whatever label suits you) came so into focus, that it is like someone wrote them on the mirror.

A love like that: a first glimpse of an adoring, merciful, unconditionally loving, arms around you in any kind of weather, God


No fear, only forward, knowing and leaping


A loss like this: the power of God to crush any of us in mid-air WACK! just like a bug 




A love like that: God shines a looking-glass and shows me my innate goodness, that was always there, bright and lovely


A loss like this: God gives me testimony to the evil at my core


my power to kill


did I kill you by hanging on too tight?


Was God jealous?




A love like that:  a glimpse of who I really am through God's eyes--my ultra, hundred-cow worthiness


my blessedness was blessed


A loss like this: God pulls that one lose thread, unraveling and ending joy-and engages in mud-slinging 




A love like that: I show God a heart bursting at the seams with faith reborn in a newborn picture of the world


he is well-pleased


A loss like this: God tells me I'm going to have to enlarge the picture


Aren't I tired of making the picture bigger and bigger to accommodate All of it?




A love like that: gifted effortless joy and presence, and I mean effortless. Have you tasted it? OMG. 


Potential for so much goodness, so much co-creation of a new world in the name of love, freedom, beauty


A loss like this: epic abandonment playing itself out for all eternity, sinister laughing, other shoe dropping sonic boom




And after the storm lets up,




A love like that, a loss like this: 


cancel each other out


ground zero


the ocean-- churning, arriving, receding, 




nothing more,




only surrender




nothingness



waves lapping at the shore




So, all this time, were the varying degrees of pain at my core pointing to a much deeper relationship with my soul? And the final blast, your mortality--was it the white hot fire that would burn away everything obstructing true vision, so that I could finally see what eternal truths I'd accepted and carried at face value for endless time, without ever even knowing? Was it time for me to know something beyond even them? Something that promised a kind of peace I had yet to encounter?


I am announcing my new terms. I ain't interested in anything far off anymore. I'm focused right here, right now. It all might lose its significance a bit. I'm good with that. If I can't remember your name, it came from me forgetting my own.

Because, honestly, that is the only way I can even begin to see the bigger picture here.

I'm also revamping my beliefs about God. I'm losing the tasteful and distasteful. I'm  losing both sides of the coin, which means no more coin.

Why does it feel like everything is gained in throwing away the coin, and letting go--perhaps the coin finds the true wishing well, the one where we throw out what we thought we wanted, needed, would die if we didn't get, would be obliterated if we lost, and we simply walk into our truest, softest, heart.

I remember when I was young, my parents would take my brothers and me boating in Lake Powell, to Tapestry Wall.

We were so dwarfed by the immensity of the wall, that my little self could barely comprehend it.



See that little white boat?

This is how dwarfed I feel by your loss, and by something more, left in its wake, that I just can't quite name yet, but that resembles a freedom I've never known, and an immensity I've never conceived of.

I can't believe you are gone. I can't believe I'll never reach out and touch you again, hear your sweet voice, and whatever poetry you sing out onto the wind.

In and out of reality, feeling like I am fading in and out of different worlds.

Nothing solid at the moment, but don't think I am not noticing how losing you has the most potential to date, to blow my concept of reality apart for good, so that I can no longer look out upon my surroundings and interpret them at all.

And hasn't that been the point all along. To let go enough, that I let something else finally teach me how to see.

I have no idea where to go from here, so I guess I'm good to let something else take the lead.

And if my eyes are just a sliver open, I can tell you that I am standing in between a stronger heart, radiating peace and release, and one that is shattered and dying--but in this center place, there is a hell of a lot less in the way of loving, or even of screaming how hard this is, with no apologies, and mostly affirming in each breath, that, goddammit, I am alive.

And I know I'm not going to die.

At least, not from this.

Comments

  1. Dearest, beautiful Brooke, I am here with you in every breath. I can't tell you in words what I am feeling right now. This blew my soul wide open and has helped me to see Truth. Embracing You, loving You, seeing You.

    One precious breath at a time.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Darling daughter, I just looked down and realized my socks were gone. I only met this man thru your words, but I felt keenly the loss of someone who tounched my 'precious' with a beautiful light. He was a gift, to you for the amazing quality of your shared feelings, and to me, for giving my daughter an immutable, exhiliration that is so precious and so rare. My heart and my love have been with you for the last several days. Please know of my immutable love for you and my deep pride in whom you have been, whom you are now,and whom you are becoming.
    Love, Dad

    ReplyDelete
  3. A love like that, a loss like this...

    Oh, Brooke, you've said it all for all of us--all that is too huge for words.

    Heart with you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Brooke. I think I forgot to breathe while reading this.

    And now I'm taking a big, deep breath and letting this wave of so much emotion just wash over me. The love I feel for you and the ache at your loss, I'm just going to sit here with it all for a while.

    You've somehow managed to capture something here that is so completely beyond words. Yet, through your words, I get it. I see it so clearly.

    Thank you for helping me, always, to See more clearly. Please know that my heart is wrapped around yours through all of it.

    It is so very good to be ALIVE with you, Brooke.

    I love you, my friend,

    Julia

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh Brooke, I'm not even sure I understand completely but I feel so emotional from reading this- like Julia said, I don't think I took a breath through the entire post. I am feeling enormous amounts of love for you. xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  6. Brooke, I've read this over again and still only have feelings and no words. I feel like crying and laughing, but not for humor but for relief. I don't understand it but I guess I don't need to. I'm sending my love to you now.
    Love,
    Leah

    ReplyDelete

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