Meditations on Observation

I spend a lot of time in quiet observation. There has never been a time in my life, when I have done more of this than during the past eighteen months. When my brother died on February 17, 2008, something inside of me withered and crumbled, leaving behind a spirit that was scarred in a way that even I could not fully comprehend. And I am now beginning to understand how incredibly hurt my soul has been. How deeply damaging my own mother's behavior was to my fragile psyche during a time when all I really needed, was someone to mother me. I had never asked for or even expected it before. I knew that in so many ways, she was incapable. But oh how I needed a mother during that time, and oh how she betrayed such a simple petition. All has been forgiven. Because I chose to. Because I knew that it was the right thing to do. Because I could not be the one to leave my own mother, childless. But even now, I am writing through the pain. It runs through my body like thick mud through a very narrow canal, pulsating against the margins of skin. Thick with betrayal and sadness and confusion.

So, I thin it down with forgiveness. I speak to her, I see her, I listen to her. I love her, but I just cannot like her. She has caused me too much pain over the course of my forty-seven years. And yet she clings to me. She tells me that spending time with me is like medicine for her, without even realizing that it is toxic for me. I hate this. I want it to be different, but it cannot be. She has done too much harm and all that I can offer her is forgiveness.

So, I retreat into the realm of quiet observation. I observe short vignettes into the lives that go on around me. I quietly watch, hoping to catch a glimpse of something that will heal my wounded heart. I know what a healthy relationship looks and feels like, because I have created and nurtured many in my life, but still, there is something missing that should be there. And I mourn its loss, even while it is still alive.

I have recently begun catching up on all of the health-related appointments that I skipped during the past year. Our family has been going to the same dentist for over fifteen years. When he asked me why I had missed a cleaning, I admitted something to him while admitting it to myself. For the past year and a half, I had checked out. I stopped going to all of the appointments that I was so good about going to in the past. I did not do it consciously, but in some ways, it was a mindful decision. I was not interested in dealing with the body, when the spirit felt so lost. My chronic illness exacerbated this by allowing me to wallow in the physicality of my pain. It began to feel as if I was giving up, fading away, giving in. And then I went to the dentist, and after finding out that he wants me to come back again sooner than normal, something in my soul shook loose. I realized that I was falling behind in my life. I began to realize that I was observing my own life from a kind of detached, other-worldly place, and that if I continued on that path, the result could be devastating. So yesterday, I went back to the gynecologist for the first time since 2007 and I now have plans to get my mammogram, get back to my hematologist/oncologist every three months for blood work and to visit my dermatologist to get checked for any suspicious sun damage. After sending my dear husband, Mark, in to find out how to combat any further sun damage, and then finding out yesterday, that he has a very mild form of skin cancer that must be removed from the bridge of his nose, my world of observation became an even more dangerous place. It is time to do more than just observe.

So as I slowly make my way back up to the surface of my life, here are a few of the observations that I made over the past year and a half. May they serve as reminders for us all.

Toss away negative feelings in the same way that you might throw a ball. Physically find a way to let them go, whether it be by throwing some rocks into the ocean, or releasing a balloon into the air. Utilizing a physical symbol to sustain the idea that we are letting go, is a good way to reinforce it.

Create lots of memories and then photograph them. I cannot tell you how comforting the pictures that I have of myself with my brother are. There are just not enough of them. Take lots of pictures. Be absolutely sure to include yourself in them. Oh and do not worry about scrapbooking or putting them in albums. It's the memories that are crucially important, not how you file them away.
Look for beauty in the beliefs and traditions of others while still honoring your own. There is so much to be gleaned from observing the things that give meaning to lives of others. This woman held my attention for quite some time. The way that she looked in her sari made me wish that I could wear one, too.
Try to view the time spent waiting, as perfect timing. Recently, a friend wrote about an incident in which she avoided being involved in a car accident that occurred a few cars ahead of her because she was running a few minutes late. The Universe has timing that we cannot possibly understand.
Accept your own beauty in the same way that you appreciate the beauty that you observe in others. I might not be the exact weight that I would like to be, at this point in time, but so what. I am here, I am alive and I am wonderful.(There. Now I said it, so you can, too!)
Take comfort in the arms of those you love and who love you. To me, there is nothing better than a genuine, heart-felt hug.
Enjoy the company of someone else. Absorb each other's energy. Discover the things that are important to the other person. Collect sea glass!
Never stop searching for more. We will never know what we can possibly know unless we continue to be curious.
As I move forward into another phase of my life, one in which I promise to be a better mother to myself, I know that I will continue to observe. It is what I do. It is how I make sense of the world. It is how I metabolize meaning. But I will also continue to force myself to become more proactive. It will still take some time for the dull ache which has consumed my soul for the past year and a half to subside, but I will remain more aware of it and what it does to my life. And like a good mother, I will schedule all of those appointments that I neglected in 2008, and I will get my blood work drawn whether it hurts me or not.(It does.) I will check back into life. Slowly, steadily with both observation and action.