Tears as a portal for transformation

To me an angel is someone whose very being, creates an impetus.

Always monumental either in the life time or in death.

It has to be this way for the desired effect to unravel.

An angel must have the capacity to enable transformation.

In the past few weeks, the continued tenacity of life magnified even further.

Ever deeper into a numbing sense of disbelief and shrugged acceptance.

On the screen it appeared that the planet was wrecked and heaving.  
 No sign of hope or survival.

A bleak landscape of a destroyed country, forced into the past by nature..

A targeted  African country, destroyed by evil…..

Dead and dying fish and birds  in their thousands.

Solar flares solaring

And with every passing second, a new revealed insanity, cruelty, injustice..

There was so much out there that negated 
the beauty my soul wanted to believe was there. 
And yet I keep looking outwards. 
Despite the despair and uncertainty and sometimes jubilation and sometimes fear.  
 Jubilation when I think it could all just be over, in the blink of an eye.

So I despair deeply for life on this planet.

I don’t know why but I feel that you John Peter also felt 
the claws of the gross inhumanity facing us humans.    
The difference being I am willing and hoping for the entire planet to end with me.
You were far less selfish.  You were willing to step out on your own.  
Iona upon hearing what had happened spoke of how brave you must have been. 
‘He did not know what was going to follow and yet he still did it.  
That was very courageous; she said.

I can’t imagine you calling for an asteroid strike, 
for   an immediate end to this seeming madness. 
No I was calling on the collective controller regaining power and flattening us all.   
Yet you - Master of your own fate.  Captain of your own destiny.
Played your own flute.

Moving into your home and connecting with your family 
moved me into a situation 
where I experienced nothing but an outpouring of love.   
 Total honesty presented herself, 
there was only the aching rawness of fully felt pain.
And with that total honesty and acceptance came love.

John Peter – your marked and deliberate absence caused
such waves to break out from our hitherto contained, hardened hearts.

Whoever heard of the courage of your parting, was firstly completely numb
and then moved to the deepest sorrow and concern.

And we have all been taught from the cradle that sorrow is to be avoided at all costs. 
That we should seek happiness, peace and joy, 
but we must resist the counterpart vehemently.   
We do this by encasing our feelings in safety zones. 
And sadness is not safe, we must avoid it.  
 Except, here in this space, your familial  home ,  it was accepted. 
And with each expression of the sorrow felt and remembered, 
waves lifted and moved outwards touching everyone in their wake.

And in that space, was the deepest most profound love.

Everyone became that.

Everyone merged into their natural state.

There was raw reality – with total acceptance.

Upon hearing the news, the mind

 raced around trying to find a file that  could make sense of the situation
 A frantic bid to find the safety mechanism that would make it ‘alright’ – ‘not sad’.

And there was not one.  There was not even the slightest hope.

There was just the closing up of the tent flap,

And calling on life to enable some kind of healing.

And many did this simultaneously..

The few people I have seen in Mcgregor since my return, have spoken to me 
their stories of how this event has changed their lives.

Kathleen speaks of how her resistance to things has just melted away.  
 She now just says oh just does it.

And finds it effortless and pleasurable.

Annie Noorgarb speaks of how many candles have been lit 
over the past week and how Mcgregor has felt this absolute surge of love.
  How for her too resistance has faded.

Feeling around the thing comes to mind 
is that what we have now is Awareness in plain sight.  
 Everyone is in a heightened state of consciousness, wherever one looks. 
  Aware of each potent moment.

Your blessed mother,  in the deepest sorrow would still catch herself out. 
  She would say something like I should do…
.and immediately would stop herself and say no I want to do ……… 
in the deepest grief, the mind was controlled and observant,
not subject to unconscious tyranny.

It’s bizarre to say this and I really hope it does not defend anyone
still stuck on sorrow with no redemption.   
 But I really get that your ‘death’ was more significant than any
recent birth I have been aware of. 
No one stops when a child is born.  There is a light celebration - 
but you don’t stop what you are doing when a friend gives birth.   
 A joy arises but that joy does not carry the power of transformation.  
 Does not carry the gift of the introspection that sorrow  demands of one.  
   Your departure stopped us all in our tracks. 
Mid-stream. 
There was no way anyone could step aside from the emotions arising. 

Your dance broke my heart right open.

My internal jaded cynic fled upon seeing the light.

I am sad that so many will have a hard time adjusting to you
appearing only in memory now.

And yet I am so profoundly grateful for what it has produced.

In this world, sinking, shaking, pussing,  warring -  
 your decision led to wave upon wave of love

and clarity of spirit.
Strong light in the darkness.

And returning home something remarkable happened.  
 As the plane taxied to the runway I was awaiting the clenched and sweaty fists, the tightened solar plexus, and the rapid heartbeat.  The holding of breath.

That deep fear. 
It was absent.  Even upon  turbulence and landing 

fear was absent.

No resistance either. 
Coming home the schism I had created with my partner was no longer there. 
Choice was for love, not for distance. 
Love flows effortlessly when the heart opens.   
Love and water,

so alike.

Love I have discovered eliminates fear. 
I don’t know why but I got a taste of how.

Seeing the grace and wisdom with which this family 
has met your death has inspired.

Seeing your family meet this vast challenge, was a new hundred monkey scene. 
A new way of perceiving for many. 
To allow that deepest sorrow and in turn meet an inner peace. 
Probably the greatest challenge given to a human.
  Between the waves of loss and regret. 
To respect your decision and just continue to feel the love of this being
in his eternal presence.

Many years ago Sarie lit a candle upon hearing of her father’s murder.

She had two flowers in a vase.  I asked her about them
because they were two small roses that had the energy of a huge tree.
  She told me that one was for her father and one for his killer.                
In that moment this whole perception of punishment and revenge 
versus profound acceptance struck me as my most powerful life event.

And the acceptance of those close to you and its effect
that has unfolded with your unorthodox journey
is my most profound blessing to date.  
 Thank you John Peter.  Angel Boy.

Grief belongs to no-one.

like water it flows

and reaches the greatest depths

touching all in its path

with a clarity

a penetration

a merging

grief

weaving its way

from the realm of thinking

to the feeling of heart

where it massages, pumps , pounds, squeezes

one to the previously unimaginable depths and peace

of one’s inner being.

and the way is made possible

by the ocean  of tears that free flow

with the infinite drums of sobbing

always waiting quietly in the background to escape

it is through the falling of tears

that the other shore becomes reality.

It became apparent by the last thing found of yours – a list – 
that you wanted to go into the wild and survive.  
 You wanted to hunt and grow and live off the thriving land,
leave the hallowed city – and when you saw that to get to the land
would be more than you could do, you chose the next route – 
away from this clumsy, heavy lifestyle that we are all wrapped up in.

From the beautiful falling rain and embrace of your home, 
I return to the kingdom of sunlight.

Sitting in it in the garden watching the mousebirds 
have what sounds like a parents teachers meeting (as I would imagine one to be),  
 the chickens chickening,  
 the light filtering through the banana leaves,
the occasional ant landing on my arm, 
the wasp stinging and dragging the rain spider to her lair.

And in the midst of this – you are present.

With much gratitude.

Respect John Peter, Respect.

And as within, as without.

This healing cannot have been isolated to this pocket of people in this African land.

It is part of a growing meme – where disaster can lead to rebirth.

Where despair can carry light and hope.

And where all the bullshit is left at the top of the drive.

.