"Living life in such a precariously artistic way so as to make it difficult to negotiate, to navigate, to find your way through it." This is the summary review of last night's dream.
I was with Jan and Jake, and it was the creation and sharing with me of their art pieces that caused me to border on life in such an unbalanced, unfamiliar way so as to feel the need to escape the light headless of confusion and dismay.
In the discussion, presentation, and experiencing of their art; life unfolded in ways usual as well magical; but also disturbing at the intense need to understand and interpret in new ways.
Don't get me wrong, its not that the art was not beautiful, it was ... just perplexing in my need to understand life at a deeper, never before visited or even imagined level!
I apologized, partly explained, and escaped promising soon to return.
For me, it included all of the art of nature and the path on which it led in my attempt to get home. It was negotiating my way through natural land formations, fallen trees, rivulet carved passageways still wet with evidence of the river, jumping over streams, foraging forests, climbing ledges not knowing if I would arrive still on the path. All the time my home there above me on the horizon.
Advance was possible but could I backtrack if necessary. In other words, on and forward only. The nature of experiencing nature in this way was finding the path being so arduous that one wondered if one would ever arrive.
Now awake, only visions without words on this side of my awake brain hold sway while the details of the exquisite twists and turns, layered beauty and truth, the unexpected use and juxtaposition of materials in Jan and Jake's art, slowly dissipate.
Only the memory of nature's beauty, the smell and feel of the air of my journey, and the physical strength it took to navigate my art, lingers as I write this for description but the details diminish.
So knowing that if I was to capture any small piece of the wonder, I popped out of bed and am writing this at 5:30 am.
I return to bed, knowing that I will quickly return to sleep, but wonder if I will ever return to the exalted experience of this night's dream.
As my dreams returned I was rehearsing for a supernumerary part in an opera. When the diva raised her hand, I brought her the nut shaker and rehearsed shaking a few nuts into a soup spoon to hand to her. When she raised her glass, I rehearsed returning to her with a pitcher of lemonade with which to fill it.
I was aware on waking that the exaltation had not returned but rather the mundane!
Showing posts with label Intensity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Intensity. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2016
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
The Intensity of 12 Years vs the Longevity of 41!
The other day I was feeling blue again. This is the nature of grief. It comes and goes, comes and goes. And when you think it has calmed down, it once again tantrums!
A new skill I have been working on is to be able to allow my emotions while at the same time asking them if they are valid. Instead of just feeling down I ask myself, "Is what I am thinking, is what I am feeling real? Is the nature of this memory true?"
The other day a bevy of erroneous thoughts were the cause of my grief. I knew they were not the truth but they were affecting me anyway. They ran, kicking and screaming, past my mind in single file, one at a time.
Was I as good to Gregory as I could be? Did I make the right decisions on his behalf? Did I go out of my way enough to be there for him. Did I spend enough time with him? Did I make sure I communicated my love to him in ways he could understand? Did I tell him often enough how much I love him?
And the thoughts got worse! Did I spend enough time with him as he was dying? Did I sit with his body long enough when he was dead? Was he really dead or is it possible he was just more deeply in a coma? Should I have kept all night vigils with him? Did I let him know strongly enough how much I would miss him and how I wanted him to stay with me?
I knew that these thoughts, these memories, these emotions were not the truth. I did not want to allow them to get me down. So I started trying to think about better times. About my great love for this man. Of the good things I did for him and he for me. But I realized that my thoughts were still of him fairly advanced with Dementia/ Alzheimer's. They were still memories of me alone, as caregiver, Gregory at Lieberman Center and greatly diminished.
So I tried to think of earlier times and earlier joy and love. And I couldn't. I pictured some events during better times but the emotions of those events did not help me feel better. Did not lighten the depth of despair or grief I was feeling. I realized that I was having trouble recalling or recreating those earlier times in Gregory and my life when we were young or even those times before the diagnosis of Alzheimer's when we were so much in love, happy, healthy.
This next set of untrue emotions replaced the earlier erroneous feelings of not being there, not doing enough, not communicating etc with new and just as painful emotions. I cried, I felt depressed, I felt alone and lonely. Where had those 41 years gone and why couldn't I use them to help me feel better. I just couldn't picture or feel or remember clearly the earlier, happier days of our relationship.
I shared all of this with Isaac, my God Son, over dinner last night. I knew the lack of truth in all of my processing but didn't know how to turn it around. Talking about it with him felt good, he is a good listener, he didn't try to tell me I was wrong or "buckle up!" He thought for a moment and asked if he could share a thought he had on the situation. "Of course I replied." This is what he explained:
"The difficulties of Gregory and your life over the last intense 12 years of living with Dementia/ Alzheimers, as well as Gregory's death, is still what you are dealing with. There is so much love and joy in the 41 years you and he have been together but right now those years are overshadowed by the 12 difficult years. It only makes sense that you need to spend more energy dealing with, grieving, those 12 years before you can get back to enjoying the memories of those 41 years."
We summed it up with this sound bite: The intensity of 12 years vs the longevity of 41! Just having this insight, as shared by Isaac, made me feel much better, able to put my grief aside for now, and to feel normal. Like I am going through the normal process of grieving. That it will get better!
The more you love someone, the more you grieve. The more you love someone, the harder it is to let go even though you know that because of that love, you must let go. Yes, the intensity of the 12 years Gregory and I walked the path of Dementia/ Alzheimer's is strong, but the 41 years of our love is stronger and will prevail!
A new skill I have been working on is to be able to allow my emotions while at the same time asking them if they are valid. Instead of just feeling down I ask myself, "Is what I am thinking, is what I am feeling real? Is the nature of this memory true?"
The other day a bevy of erroneous thoughts were the cause of my grief. I knew they were not the truth but they were affecting me anyway. They ran, kicking and screaming, past my mind in single file, one at a time.
Was I as good to Gregory as I could be? Did I make the right decisions on his behalf? Did I go out of my way enough to be there for him. Did I spend enough time with him? Did I make sure I communicated my love to him in ways he could understand? Did I tell him often enough how much I love him?
And the thoughts got worse! Did I spend enough time with him as he was dying? Did I sit with his body long enough when he was dead? Was he really dead or is it possible he was just more deeply in a coma? Should I have kept all night vigils with him? Did I let him know strongly enough how much I would miss him and how I wanted him to stay with me?
I knew that these thoughts, these memories, these emotions were not the truth. I did not want to allow them to get me down. So I started trying to think about better times. About my great love for this man. Of the good things I did for him and he for me. But I realized that my thoughts were still of him fairly advanced with Dementia/ Alzheimer's. They were still memories of me alone, as caregiver, Gregory at Lieberman Center and greatly diminished.
So I tried to think of earlier times and earlier joy and love. And I couldn't. I pictured some events during better times but the emotions of those events did not help me feel better. Did not lighten the depth of despair or grief I was feeling. I realized that I was having trouble recalling or recreating those earlier times in Gregory and my life when we were young or even those times before the diagnosis of Alzheimer's when we were so much in love, happy, healthy.
This next set of untrue emotions replaced the earlier erroneous feelings of not being there, not doing enough, not communicating etc with new and just as painful emotions. I cried, I felt depressed, I felt alone and lonely. Where had those 41 years gone and why couldn't I use them to help me feel better. I just couldn't picture or feel or remember clearly the earlier, happier days of our relationship.
I shared all of this with Isaac, my God Son, over dinner last night. I knew the lack of truth in all of my processing but didn't know how to turn it around. Talking about it with him felt good, he is a good listener, he didn't try to tell me I was wrong or "buckle up!" He thought for a moment and asked if he could share a thought he had on the situation. "Of course I replied." This is what he explained:
"The difficulties of Gregory and your life over the last intense 12 years of living with Dementia/ Alzheimers, as well as Gregory's death, is still what you are dealing with. There is so much love and joy in the 41 years you and he have been together but right now those years are overshadowed by the 12 difficult years. It only makes sense that you need to spend more energy dealing with, grieving, those 12 years before you can get back to enjoying the memories of those 41 years."
We summed it up with this sound bite: The intensity of 12 years vs the longevity of 41! Just having this insight, as shared by Isaac, made me feel much better, able to put my grief aside for now, and to feel normal. Like I am going through the normal process of grieving. That it will get better!
The more you love someone, the more you grieve. The more you love someone, the harder it is to let go even though you know that because of that love, you must let go. Yes, the intensity of the 12 years Gregory and I walked the path of Dementia/ Alzheimer's is strong, but the 41 years of our love is stronger and will prevail!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)