Grief

Gonna talk a lot about this series Buddha I just watched on netflix. It’s one person’s biography of Gautam Buddha.
 
In one scene, an inconsolable mother brings her infant to Buddha and asks him to bring the baby back to life for her because she cannot live without the child. Buddha tells her to go borrow a handful of mustard seeds and bring them back and he will save her child. One condition though – the mustard seeds must come from a house where no one has ever died. She sets off to find the seeds. Every house she asks has had a death. She knocks on every door in the village desperate to find a house where no one has died. Eventually, she deals with her grief and is able to see she needs to let the child go.
 
I never realized how much I am grieving.  I’m still grieving my father walking away when I was 5.  I’m still grieving the death of my parents and my grandparents.  I’m grieving the things autism has robbed of my son and me.  There’s guilt that I haven’t let go of it all yet – that maybe I’m not trying hard enough – maybe I haven’t knocked on every door in the village yet?  
It all keeps coming back to grief – which carries fatigue and anxiety and this emptiness.
I think the message in the story is there isn’t a way to feel better about any of it.  She is shown that she’s not unique in her grief – it’s everywhere.  She is shown that nothing she is presently doing is going to affect her loss.   She is still crying when she leaves Buddha for the last time – and she doesn’t appear “transformed” or “cured”.
And then I understand the middle road…that road between grief and happiness.  Not expecting to be happy without feeling dead inside.

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Pearl Manhattan

Life interrupted - this space is changing - stay tuned

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