At some point between death and here, something seems to have wriggled round inside me. My thoughts are not what they were, I am not quite myself.
In these weeks the emotions have flown so fast, bitten down so ferociously, that I have felt unknown to myself many times. I wonder who I will see if I look too long in the mirror, and whether I will like the stranger who looks back.
When I find myself in gales of tears in the supermarket, laughing a sky or thinking about death on the bus, I’ve tried to think ‘this is grief’ (mainly to avoid the thought ‘I have run mad’). Death came and suddenly my life felt out of control and I am my last castle, the last hold against the chaos that seems to threaten so the niggly fear of madness, of losing grip, has never been far from the edge of my eye.
I’m pleased to report I am no madder than I was before (despite occasional indications to the contrary) but something has changed. I reflect more, feel more, connect more – I seem to be thinking with my heart.
I’m fumbling for the words for what I’m trying to express. It’s a bit like tasting something as the colour blue or drinking in a view as a soft touch…. odd, transformed, lovely. Thoughts come to me with a compassion, a fullness of feeling and rightness that can only be pulsing from my heart. The things I feel, these rollercoaster emotions, seem underlaid by something wiser and older than myself, as if some corner of me remembers a thousand losses lived through.
Now I know that all sounds very airy-fairy and for sure, I don’t feel this in every moment. Its not there when I choose a sandwich or pick a channel. I am no guru when I take a shower. But then suddenly, I feel the connections tug inside me. I have insight that wasn’t there before and everything is a little more vivid, more colourful and real.
I need a verb somewhere between think and feel – maybe ‘theel’ will do!
Actually, I have no words to do justice to this, but it is so beautiful I wish I could better share it. Something has changed – and it seems t have been me.