Submerged Rocks

I don't know what it is about the month of January that begins in a familiar darkness for me, but then very slowly moves my spirit into a lighter, more transformational place.  I am not sure at what point the dissension initially occurs, the moment at which the downward spiral takes its initial turn causing me to unknowingly burrow down deep, receding into what feels a bit like depression.(if I was a depressive type of person, which characteristically, I am not)  But it is something that I have come to acknowledge over the past eight years or so, ever since I spent six weeks during a particularly rainy January/February, sitting with my ninety year old grandmother in the hospital, watching her slowly whither away while not being able to give in to her wishes for me to "put a pillow over her head" so that she did not have to withstand anymore.  She was ready to leave, her ninety years on this earth filled with mostly productivity and fullness, and I was waiting it out by her side, saying farewell but not knowing when the end would come.  She and I were very close.  In many ways, she looked upon me more as a daughter than as a granddaughter.  I share her hearty laugh.  I share her generosity and her love of the written word.  I share her sense of humor and her sense of loyalty, her sense of duty to those we love.  And so, I shared in her responsibility, taking care of four young daughters who required my full-time attention while giving my grandma the rest.  We moved her out to a facility near where my father lives(two and a half hours away, much too far for him to drive on a regular basis) after we understood that she would need full-time care, and slowly, the time slipped away from her.  It began with the sad fact that she no longer remembered my two youngest daughters, and then, she stopped reading, stopped eating and slept for much of the day.  She was putting the proverbial "pillow" over her own head, wishing herself into no longer.  The entire process took six months, beginning in that early January and then finally releasing her on my birthday in July of that same year.  There is no irony lost on me when it comes to the fact that she made her final transition on my birthday morning that summer.  She and I had several interesting conversations in the week leading up to her death and I knew that where I was dropping her off on this side of life, her own mother would be picking her up on the other side.  I found it all, quite humbling.

The January after my grandma passed, my mother had knee-replacement surgery.  She behaved much like a spoiled child and gave me weeks of aggravation.  Let's just say that when she threw her food tray across the room because the doctor decided it was time to cut off her morphine supply, I decided that it was time for me to spend less time sitting with her in the hospital.  Good decision...

And then, three years ago on February 17, 2008, my younger brother died.  I won't delve into the details about that here as I have written about them many other times on this blog, but his death raised the bar to an entirely new level.

So while I began this by saying that I am not entirely sure as to why January tends to begin in a fairly dark place for me, by backtracking a bit, I admitted myself into a moment of absolute clarity.  By allowing myself to retrieve some of the more difficult pieces that I like to forget, I transitioned myself into a space of clearer understanding and even, compassion.  Compassion for myself.  Understanding.  Transformation.  Allowance.

Yesterday, I took a long walk on the beach.  Not a search for sea glass or sunsets, but a search for answers and understanding.  Each year, I try to come up with a word that will help to direct me and keep me focused for the year.  I do not remember what that word was for 2008.  That was the year that I lost my brother and I think that as a self-protective measure, the word left my consciousness.  In 2009, the word was patience.  Lord knows I needed a good dose of patience for all of the nonsense that was only just beginning!  In 2010, because there are no rules to any of this(except for the ones that I make up for myself), the only appropriate word that rang throughout my mind was once again, patience, and I went with it.  Yesterday, as I walked on the beach at a pace much quicker than my usual beach walk, the word floated into my consciousness.  Transform.  I rolled the word around inside of my mind for a bit.  Transformation.  I thought about what it means and how it pertained to who I am now.  I considered the somewhat negative connotation to the word. Change.  But more about the positive.  Metamorphosis.  And then I thought about the things which we submerge in spaces that we think will somehow protect us.  All of the stuff that we bury in those dark places, only to have them haunt us in ways that we have tried to hide from.  We minimize their importance, the strong influence of which they have upon our lives.

And yet, if we search a little harder and a bit deeper, we might actually find our way back up into the light, just by taking the time to acknowledge the darkness.  Just as submerged rocks can prove to be a serious danger when we are unaware of their presence, when we try to cover up the events in our lives which affect us so profoundly, they can only become dangerous obstacles to the evolution of our souls.  Of who we are and who we are meant to become.

The sun is shining brightly today.  It is warm, about eighty degrees and I can hear a bird calling in the distance.  I have allowed myself to spend some time in the darkness, thinking, exploring, contemplating and just being.  It is now time for me to climb back into the light, step by step, moment by moment, breath by breath.  This is a choice that I am making, this climb, this transformation.  We all hope to transform ourselves but most of us also fight change.  I am giving up that fight.

Do you have a word for 2011?