Although I haven’t commented for a long time I have been here and paying attention to the discussions and sometimes wanting to comment and just not having the time to formulate the thoughts into something coherent or even comprehensible. And then I had what felt like an extraordinary experience during a meditation about 10 days ago. Firstly I need to say that I have never had shocking or violent or even very jagged experiences whilst meditating. Sometimes it is difficult to concentrate; sometimes it is smoother than that. This experience was something quite different. I also need to say that it relates to my mother’s death – a terrifying and exhausting experience with absolutely no moments of grace or peace. It took me many conversations to rid myself of the images left and at first I could only speak to my supervisor and – once I found him – to my counsellor. I was frightened that what I had to tell would burden those who hadn’t experienced such a thing – despite wishing myself that someone, anyone had let me know that death is sometimes like that (actually, I’ve been told since, it is quite often this way) – for then I would not have been – I think – so horrified. In any case after much talking I did place it, neutralise it a bit so I could live with it and not wake in the night sweating and palpitating. I have not thought about it much for a while except in holding the knowledge that it is something we went through. So. During my meditation one afternoon recently I was sitting with the mantra and very suddenly without any preamble or warning I was thrown back into the moments directly before, during and after Mum’s dying. The nurses had moved her bed to a private room, in a great hurry at the crucial moment. My brother and I hurried after them with our things and were confronted with the sight of Mum thrashing around on her bed in a very spasmodic and kind of frightening way. I recall standing there transfixed and can hear my small voice saying ‘what is she doing? why is she doing that? what’s happening?’; the nurse saying that she was dead, that she was not aware, that the body goes through this kind of thing after life has departed … and I thought I accepted it, believed it … the moments I was thrust back into were those final moments …and what came to me was an absolute certainty that during those moments of thrashing about my mother was still aware, still to some extent alive even though she was not actually breathing any longer …that the nurse was lying to reassure us and make something terrifying and unbearable less so…and I had a strong feeling of distress at having let her down in being too scared to disbelieve the nurse and live with that ...along with it came another absolute certainty: that my experience during her illness that my mother wanted only my brother was true, not just the product of my lack of trust or my neediness. I still feel 10 days later quite stunned by the power and reality of the experience; and also by the sense of truth that it carries for me – it has changed what I believed about that time …and has begun to unravel my confused sense and experience of how my mother felt about me. I think that’s all for now ..sorry to be so verbose …
It is extraordinary that your meditation practice can touch and carry you through this old terrifying wound. Thank you for your courage to speak about it here. It sounds like something is healing? Does it make you afraid to sit again?
Barbara, I am more sympathetic than you can know. Although my relationship to my mother sounds different, some of the hardest things since her death have been the persistent images of her dying, and shortly after dying. It's very traumatic, and because we simply don't talk about these things in our society, or experience them except in very rare circumstances, there is no way to be truly prepared or to understand at the time what one sees and feels. I'm concerned and sorry that perhaps what I wrote about my mother contributed to the upsurge of your memories, and I very much hope that greater peace comes now.
Yes. For me too, suddenly knowing things I actually knew but let myself be talked out of (or talked myself out of) can happen in meditation.
So sorry your mother's death was so hard, and what a dreadful thing to have to carry, that conviction of not being wanted at the same time that extraordinary demands were being made on your compassion and terrifying things were going on.
Barbara, I'm so sorry for your loss. It sounds like you're working through your grief in a very powerful way. I hope you can find some solace in the knowledge that we're holding you in our hearts.
Barbara, my heart goes out to you. The dying of those we love, and of the very closest, those who gave birth to us, becomes etched in our minds in ways nothing else does.
What I feel is that you'll have to live with these feelings of the terror of witnessing the death of your mother, your feelings of not being as wanted as your brother, that this is the negative pole, as it were. There is also a positive pole, where there is a vision of death as a release, as a path into the spiritual realities, as a blessing, and that you were and are deeply loved. Both are true. Encompassing paradox at this level is as difficult as it is profound.
Perhaps it's the little child in us who feels that our parent left us because they didn't love us enough, for I felt this with the death of my father even though I knew it wasn't true. I thought perhaps his death was a rejection of me even though such a thought was ludicrous. There is a deep sense of abandonment that is very hard to accept emotionally.
To live with such painful knowledge while knowing your mother loved you is perhaps what is being asked of you now.
And to share what happened... surely bringing your terrible loss and the terrible memories of how she suffered at the end into the light will help you to gather yourself and live on.
I am most grateful to you for writing what happened; it's helping me, too.
Sending loving, comforting, healing energies your way...
Oh, Barbara. I'm so sorry. The things we carry deep within can be so painful. I am grateful that you felt able to speak about your experience and your pain here.
By the way, people keep apologizing for posting long posts. Don't. I like long posts. The longer the better. If I ever did get impatient with one, which hasn't yet happened in 171 (plus overtime) days, but I suppose might someday, I could click on past it in the blink of an eye.
by the way, i sat at the pool. I lay actually in the sun, but having had a very meditative swim being present to the feel of the water and my limbs moving in it. then i meditated for ten minutes and read more of the fascinating book on destructive emotions; a gathering with the dalai lama inc alan wallace and goleman (not grommit). SUCH powerful stuff. I am very taken with the idea of the three stages of anger - the 'appropriation' stage being the first in which we make the decision about how we have been mistreated or misjudged. also the reminder that in buddhist philosophy tolerance is the opposite of anger and what they try to cultivate in its place....lots of good stuff.
things very peaceful and harmonious at home. just back from cycling through meadowsweet and starlight to and from a party. goodnight everyone.
I haven't painted in a very long time, but yesterday bought a small set of oils and one brush, and tonight cleared the foot & a half space on the bathroom counter where we have our dish rack and painted one of the self portraits. What emerged frightened and exhilirated me. A meditation in 'self-ing' - the dream said, use brushes, not sticks, which I took to mean paints not watercolour pencils. Interesting. Not quite starlight, Ruth, but tiny pin pricks of an opening of something...
Not knowing how to post the new day I am leaving my comment here which feels fitting in that it is a short response to all the comments so far ....I feel overwhelmed by the care and love in your words. There is much else to take in and pay attention to ...there is more for me to say in relation to the things you have given me. For now I just want to say thank you ...
13 Comments:
A bout of wakefulness ... Good night/good morning all.
Although I haven’t commented for a long time I have been here and paying attention to the discussions and sometimes wanting to comment and just not having the time to formulate the thoughts into something coherent or even comprehensible. And then I had what felt like an extraordinary experience during a meditation about 10 days ago. Firstly I need to say that I have never had shocking or violent or even very jagged experiences whilst meditating. Sometimes it is difficult to concentrate; sometimes it is smoother than that. This experience was something quite different. I also need to say that it relates to my mother’s death – a terrifying and exhausting experience with absolutely no moments of grace or peace. It took me many conversations to rid myself of the images left and at first I could only speak to my supervisor and – once I found him – to my counsellor. I was frightened that what I had to tell would burden those who hadn’t experienced such a thing – despite wishing myself that someone, anyone had let me know that death is sometimes like that (actually, I’ve been told since, it is quite often this way) – for then I would not have been – I think – so horrified. In any case after much talking I did place it, neutralise it a bit so I could live with it and not wake in the night sweating and palpitating. I have not thought about it much for a while except in holding the knowledge that it is something we went through. So. During my meditation one afternoon recently I was sitting with the mantra and very suddenly without any preamble or warning I was thrown back into the moments directly before, during and after Mum’s dying. The nurses had moved her bed to a private room, in a great hurry at the crucial moment. My brother and I hurried after them with our things and were confronted with the sight of Mum thrashing around on her bed in a very spasmodic and kind of frightening way. I recall standing there transfixed and can hear my small voice saying ‘what is she doing? why is she doing that? what’s happening?’; the nurse saying that she was dead, that she was not aware, that the body goes through this kind of thing after life has departed … and I thought I accepted it, believed it … the moments I was thrust back into were those final moments …and what came to me was an absolute certainty that during those moments of thrashing about my mother was still aware, still to some extent alive even though she was not actually breathing any longer …that the nurse was lying to reassure us and make something terrifying and unbearable less so…and I had a strong feeling of distress at having let her down in being too scared to disbelieve the nurse and live with that ...along with it came another absolute certainty: that my experience during her illness that my mother wanted only my brother was true, not just the product of my lack of trust or my neediness. I still feel 10 days later quite stunned by the power and reality of the experience; and also by the sense of truth that it carries for me – it has changed what I believed about that time …and has begun to unravel my confused sense and experience of how my mother felt about me. I think that’s all for now ..sorry to be so verbose …
(((((((Barbara)))))).
It is extraordinary that your meditation practice can touch and carry you through this old terrifying wound. Thank you for your courage to speak about it here. It sounds like something is healing? Does it make you afraid to sit again?
Be gentle with yourself. Much love.
Barbara, I am more sympathetic than you can know. Although my relationship to my mother sounds different, some of the hardest things since her death have been the persistent images of her dying, and shortly after dying. It's very traumatic, and because we simply don't talk about these things in our society, or experience them except in very rare circumstances, there is no way to be truly prepared or to understand at the time what one sees and feels. I'm concerned and sorry that perhaps what I wrote about my mother contributed to the upsurge of your memories, and I very much hope that greater peace comes now.
Oh, Barbara. So very hard. I'm so sorry.
Yes. For me too, suddenly knowing things I actually knew but let myself be talked out of (or talked myself out of) can happen in meditation.
So sorry your mother's death was so hard, and what a dreadful thing to have to carry, that conviction of not being wanted at the same time that extraordinary demands were being made on your compassion and terrifying things were going on.
Lots of love.
xoxo
Barbara, I'm so sorry for your loss. It sounds like you're working through your grief in a very powerful way. I hope you can find some solace in the knowledge that we're holding you in our hearts.
Barbara, my heart goes out to you. The dying of those we love, and of the very closest, those who gave birth to us, becomes etched in our minds in ways nothing else does.
What I feel is that you'll have to live with these feelings of the terror of witnessing the death of your mother, your feelings of not being as wanted as your brother, that this is the negative pole, as it were. There is also a positive pole, where there is a vision of death as a release, as a path into the spiritual realities, as a blessing, and that you were and are deeply loved. Both are true. Encompassing paradox at this level is as difficult as it is profound.
Perhaps it's the little child in us who feels that our parent left us because they didn't love us enough, for I felt this with the death of my father even though I knew it wasn't true. I thought perhaps his death was a rejection of me even though such a thought was ludicrous. There is a deep sense of abandonment that is very hard to accept emotionally.
To live with such painful knowledge while knowing your mother loved you is perhaps what is being asked of you now.
And to share what happened... surely bringing your terrible loss and the terrible memories of how she suffered at the end into the light will help you to gather yourself and live on.
I am most grateful to you for writing what happened; it's helping me, too.
Sending loving, comforting, healing energies your way...
And (((hugs)))
Oh, Barbara. I'm so sorry. The things we carry deep within can be so painful. I am grateful that you felt able to speak about your experience and your pain here.
Much love to you.
By the way, people keep apologizing for posting long posts. Don't. I like long posts. The longer the better. If I ever did get impatient with one, which hasn't yet happened in 171 (plus overtime) days, but I suppose might someday, I could click on past it in the blink of an eye.
I'll second that.
third it.
by the way, i sat at the pool. I lay actually in the sun, but having had a very meditative swim being present to the feel of the water and my limbs moving in it. then i meditated for ten minutes and read more of the fascinating book on destructive emotions; a gathering with the dalai lama inc alan wallace and goleman (not grommit). SUCH powerful stuff. I am very taken with the idea of the three stages of anger - the 'appropriation' stage being the first in which we make the decision about how we have been mistreated or misjudged. also the reminder that in buddhist philosophy tolerance is the opposite of anger and what they try to cultivate in its place....lots of good stuff.
things very peaceful and harmonious at home. just back from cycling through meadowsweet and starlight to and from a party. goodnight everyone.
I haven't painted in a very long time, but yesterday bought a small set of oils and one brush, and tonight cleared the foot & a half space on the bathroom counter where we have our dish rack and painted one of the self portraits. What emerged frightened and exhilirated me. A meditation in 'self-ing' - the dream said, use brushes, not sticks, which I took to mean paints not watercolour pencils. Interesting. Not quite starlight, Ruth, but tiny pin pricks of an opening of something...
Long comments, yes!
Big hugs, especially for you, Barbara.
Not knowing how to post the new day I am leaving my comment here which feels fitting in that it is a short response to all the comments so far ....I feel overwhelmed by the care and love in your words. There is much else to take in and pay attention to ...there is more for me to say in relation to the things you have given me. For now I just want to say thank you ...
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