Heart of Darkness

I've been thinking a lot about how 'cold' I've become towards the suffering of others.  I say this in the context of my aunt's obvious agony over her son's death.  Clearly traumatised and only just into the cycle of bereavement; (I think she is at the disbelief stage) a long way from acceptance in any event, I found  her pain easy to witness (not in an enjoyable way, golly no, don't get me wrong) but I was comfortable and didn't feel the need to fill the awkward gaps created by the hysterical sobbing of a grown person - an elder and figure of authority no less - with corner shop philosophy. But the fact that I wasn't sobbing right along with her signalled to me what I have for a long time suspected;  My heart has long turned to stone.  My husband would put money on it.   

Obviously I care, the point of my trip to Europe was to spend time with her at this most god-awful of times but I was not overly emotional about it and while I do wonder whether she will live long enough to see the cycle through to 'acceptance' (she's 70) and then what? the dreary and tiresome "living with the hole' for the rest of your life, I kind of felt the whole death thing is just part of the great unknown and there it shall remain.  Of course you could spend your life asking yourself: Why her? Why him? Why any of us? It's futile, serves no purpose and will never garner an answer in all the lifetimes that you may live.

I remember the time when Patrick Duffy's (Bobby Ewing from Dallas) parents were killed by gunmen who stormed their rural restaurant in search of what? Ewing Oil  - God knows why they felt they needed pump action guns to rob a small family restaurant - the point is that Duffy himself when asked about it in an interview not 6 months later said quite calmly that though he was obviously devastated, he felt it was just the way of the world - a divine order.  And apparently he'd been as calm from the day it happened.   I want what he's on.

Now, I won't go as far as to say that I agree with Bobby because I do think about my cousin and how unjust the timing of his passing was, and not a day goes by when I don't think about my mum with yearning and sadness at what could have been, but in a terribly harsh way I'm of the school now that says, "the sooner you get used to it, the sooner you can start living again" and in that sense I am unmoveable - Life is most definitely for the living.  This is why in the end, I didn't go to visit my mum's grave in Spain as originally planned because it meant that I would have had less time with my aunt, who needed me more than I guess I needed to stand by a headstone.  Anyone who knows loss knows that the dead live on in hearts, not on headstones, though I must say a visit to a family grave is oddly comforting and definitely cathartic.  But again - who are we really doing it for?

I know I wouldn't be this calm if I lost my husband or child - and believe me I never want to find out, but I know this much, I have a lot less time for mourning than I did. 

It's interesting because I'm very much on a path to the spiritual - more about that soon - patience mes enfants! and in this new guise I will most definitely come up against a lot of untapped pain and fear.  I need this heart of stone to cope and in that sense maybe things do happen for a reason in the long run.  I wouldn't be who I am or where I am or in training to do what I'm about to do had I not lost my family the way I did.

A medium - the same one I went to for a giggle - that said I was on the path to a life less ordinary also said that I am the sum of all my experiences - we all are and I suppose life is about being 'ok' with it.

Namaste everybody!