Today, I sit here alone, in a small city in Mexico, with Catholic processions on the street, walking by my kitchen window. It is Good Friday. In these processions people wear either black or white robes made of muslin, and carry large wooden crosses, while singing solemn songs.
I excitedly film them from my window, and feel a deep resonance with what they are doing.
This is not usual for me, as I have never been Christian or Catholic, and nor have I ever desired, or attempted to, celebrate Good Friday.
But, today, I get it more than I ever have before.
Perhaps it is because this Good Friday coincides with my own death and resurrection experience of this past week, due to a serious, life- threatening medical emergency, as well as due to a heartbreaking loss of a close relationship in my life.
In this past week, I have had to rest and reflect, and spend a lot of time being still, to recover. In many ways I have felt leveled, physically, emotionally, existentially, and spiritually. So much pain and terror. So much loss. So much ineffable death to wrap my mind and heart around. What has happened to me has created a gargantuan split in the the fabric of my lived reality, while slowing me and my life down, to almost a static degree.
There is a major air of stillness around me, and dare I say, a palpable emptiness.
Within this emptiness I have felt relief. This incredible pain and sadness, as well as as the fresh blanketing of the unknown, are like loving companions, reminding me I am alive.
All I have is my self, and the life that I live, in this imperfect, fragile human body, and this is truly all I will ever have. All I have is what I choose to believe, and the felt experience of my emotions moving through me. All I have is this charged tension within my being, between wanting to stay the same, and the desire to transform. All I have is the potential energy of this grief and loss, and the slow, spacious emptiness, it has provided me to to realize I am the constant curator of my life.
This clearing out, due to loss, IS the exact existential, Kondo-esque, de-cluttering I needed. In fact, as I look back at my life, I am grateful, because I now know that grief and loss have been pivotal in my learning to truly and authentically live my life, thus far.
The emptiness of my loss is like a vacuum. When I sit still enough, this vacuous dimension draws in the realization that I have cleared the space within my self, for greater connection, love, trust, truth and strength. With this emptiness, and my ability to rest into it, nature flows in, and provides fresh perspective, new and better relationships that bring me exactly what I need, new experiences, and healing and growth.
So, today I see the importance of honoring and celebrating grief and loss, as I realize these repeated experiences of death in my own life, place me into contact with what is most beautiful, fresh and true, and what is ultimately most sacred.
Happy Good Friday to you all. May you remember that loss and grief are essential to life itself, and surrender to the wisdom and transformation they lovingly bring.