Friday, September 26, 2008

Selah

Surrendering, Freydoon Rassouli

The layers of my protection are slowly being peeled away, leaving me vulnerable and trembling, my heart slightly more open. This is what I came here for. This is what I long for . . . to be released from my coping mechanisms enough to FEEL.

Right after the accident, feeling was all I had. And as painful as it was, there was also the experience of ALIVENESS. And lately that has been missing for me. I have felt detatched, contained, frozen, except in those rare moments when I don't have the strength to maintain composure, and then there is a little unwitting release.

I don't intend to do this, don't want to. I don't think anyone expects me to be composed.

I have so many ideas. And these get in the way. I have ideas about what my grief should look like, what my life should look like, and who I should be. And these are the senseless prison walls that I construct.

But here, surrounded by stories of unimaginable loss and courage, I am finding it harder to contain my Self, my idea of myself. I am beginning to loosen my grip on the choking safety of certainty and remember that I don't know.

I don't know who I am,
I don't know what to do,
I don't know how to heal,
Except in each moment.

Joanne Cacciatore, the founder of the MISS Foundation, talked today about "selah," a word from the Bible which means to pause, relflect and find meaning. What I see is that I work very hard on reflecting and finding meaning, but those attempts will never be fruitful until I remember to PAUSE.

Being here, for me, is an opportunity to pause.

3 comments:

amee said...

I'm so glad you were able to go. It sounds very healing for you.

caitsmom said...

I get that. Yes, that place where everything stops and we can think, feel, and be. Uh....Thanks for posting about the conference, I'm sick that I couldn't attend. I'm drinking in your posts and reflections about the conference. THANKS. In their memory.

Dr. Joanne Cacciatore said...

I'm so glad you came, Jessie. And I'm so sad you needed to be there...