It’s Easter Sunday. This is the second Easter since she passed. The weather has been amazing for the last few days. Thunderstorms are in the forecast, but the morning is glorious. It’s in the low 50s, the sky is blue and the sun is shining. This is my favorite time of the year. I’m awakened by the sounds of birds singing in the trees behind our house, through the open windows, just before day break. Winter is over. Spring is a celebration of survival of the death that is Winter.
For my walk this morning, I decide to start with a walking meditation. I normally sit in silence, listen to ambient sounds, inspirational music, or I listen to a guided meditation. Today’s going to be tight on time, so I decide to combine my hour walk with a half hour of walking meditation. I begin walking concentrating on the feel of my feet hitting the pavement, the feel of the breeze against my skin, just staying in the moment and observing what I feel, not blocking any thoughts or emotions, letting them come through me. Then, I feel it. Anger. Seething, white hot anger. Or is it frustration? I’m having trouble differentiating the two. And is there a difference? I don’t know.
Our plans for today are to have Tywana’s mother and one of her brothers over for dinner. Kayla has decided to not come home for Easter. Shayna is either always here or never here, depending on my perspective at the moment. My brother is having a huge Easter celebration in Columbus. All of my siblings will be there, my parents, etc. Family gatherings at this point are hard because I think about Shayna not being there. But, staying at home is hard too, because Shayna is not here. It’s a lose-lose. Tywana’s mother isn’t really able to travel at this point in her life. So, staying here with her is what we decided to do.
As I’m walking along feeling this anger, I’m first tempted to try to push it away. But, that’s not what I’m trying to do right now. I want to sit with it. I want to feel it. I want to let it flow through me. I continue my walk, step by step feeling the physical sensations in my body and letting the anger talk to me. I’m frustrated with this life. I feel all alone. They tell me I’m always surrounded by angels and guides. If that’s true, it’s time to show up angels and guides. Maybe if I had a financial breakthrough in my life, at least it would distract me from the loss of Shayna. I look up from the pavement and notice the sun, the bright blue sky, the trees, the birds, just how beautiful creation is. I know this is the one day of the year we are supposed to feel the most hope. It’s resurrection day. I hear God saying to me “Look at all this beauty I’ve created.” and I say back “Who cares? The world might be beautiful but my life isn’t right now. The beauty of creation is like a mockery of my life. What good is al this beauty when I have no place in it? I’d really rather not be in this world if it’s all the same to you. Thanks anyway.”
I’m coming up on the 30 minute mark of my meditation. I’ve had no great revelation, but the anger has at least subsided. I’ve let it run its course. I’ve got the rest of the day to get through, so I switch on some music to hopefully break me out of the funk so I’m suitable to be around people for the rest of the day.
