letting go

the other day i heard news that a woman in a lab downstairs from mine gave birth to a baby girl - the excited father spread word of the news shortly following her birth, ensuring all that both mother and child were doing well. later that same day, another message was sent relaying the tragic news that the baby had passed away. for  but a few moments, we all shared in this family's joy, and quite suddenly, the joy was replaced with sorrow. 

i have thought a lot about the nature of life passing. the movement of time and place can be quite jarring for one's senses, particularly when joy is so quickly followed by utter sorrow without space to buffer our emotional and mental experiences. yet, the fact of the matter is that all moments of life are fleeting. all experiences of life, however intense or jarring, are finite. all things arise, abide, and subside. 

that last part bears repeating - all things arise, abide, and subside. 

when experiences of joy are so quickly replaced by experiences of sorrow, i have a tendency to doubt the existence of the former. but the truth of the matter is that the experiences of joy are just as real as any experience of sadness - they arise, abide, and like all things, subside. 

given the fleeting nature of life, and of our experiences in general, i suppose our duty then is to honor each moment as it comes, and then practice the art of letting go. however, as a person who is in constant practice of such an art, i admit that the knowledge of the fleeting nature of life in no way mitigates the challenge of letting go, and for that matter, the challenge of honoring each moment. letting go is one of the hardest things i have been forced to do in my life, and the process is ongoing. it is true that each moment of letting go is a moment of experiencing loss, yet it also seems true that as we let go of one moment we create space for the next. and, in each new moment we find another opportunity to find a sense of joy. 

 

reverence

     - lois greenfield, BODYSCAPES 

since learning of the deaths of my sister and my niece, my perception of many things seems to have been enhanced, while for others things its been subdued. there are a number of things - the weather, the news, the day - that I seem to be somewhat oblivious to. while other things - reckless drivers (actually, reckless behavior in general), the tone of someone's voice, language, the coming and going of life - that i seem to be particularly sensitive to. i have also been noticing my own personal sensitivity to being touched. i find myself guarded, and find that my personal 'bubble,' so to speak,  has decreased its overall permeability. for someone who normally identifies as a 'cuddler', and enjoys activities such as AcroYoga, in which personal space is unheard of, this realization is somewhat surprising. i have recognized this increased sensitivity, and thought a lot about the how/when/why of it, and it seems that my sensitivity corresponds with a higher reverence for which i hold the human body, and the connection i find between my body and my emotions. in spite of how resilient our bodies are, and the miracles of medicine, there are some things that the flesh simply cannot withstand. indeed, there are limits to what our body can tolerate. regardless of your belief system, i think most would agree that the connection between emotional and mental well-being are integrally a part of our physical well-being - i personally find the three inexorably linked. i am finding myself, lately, not only more aware of the workings of my physical body, but of its relationship to my being as a whole. my heart broke when i heard about my sister's passing, and broke further still as i learned about the manner in which she and my niece were killed. suddenly, life seems so utterly precious, and these vessels that enable us to live seem so utterly fragile. not only my body, but those of others have also become ever so much more dear to me. the thought of another hurting someone - physically, emotionally, mentally - seems so inexplicable, and indeed, given the union of the three it seems that an injury to either - if severe enough - could be too much for life to handle. i have always tended to revere the human body, and now my heightened senses seem to elicit an even higher degree of sanctity for the body, and for life. it seems almost as if a veil has been lifted and with the increased clarity i am finally able to see just how precious, dear, and beautiful some things integral to this life are. as with all new knowledge i'm sure such clarity comes with a certain level of responsibility, and i suppose it will be a grand, and perhaps life long mission to discover what such responsibility entails.