It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Or so my neighbor said, today, as we were wheeling our tots out the door and over to the playground.

She was being slightly sarcastic.

I think it's a hard time of year for almost everyone, but I think it's especially hard for us recovering alcoholic co-dependent ACOA folk. It's hard for me because I actually kind of love the holidays, starting now with Bodhi's birthday, followed closely by Halloween, and now Thanksgiving and soon all the rest, up until New Year's, which I also love.

But it can't help but bring up feelings and memories of loved ones who are no longer with us. Particularly my dad, since Christmas at my house was the one and only time he ever got to meet his grandson. And he was visibly quite sick; how sick, we didn't know then. That horror was to make itself known to us a few months later.

And what's up with me right now, anyway? Well, I am facing a lot of loss. The kind of loss I've managed to avoid my whole life, all coming toward me at once at the ripe old age of 45. Death is all around right now. I don't mind it, I'm not afraid, it just makes ordinary conversations and interactions seem hollow to me. "How are you?" Uh, I'm okay, considering one of my very closest and most beloved friends is possibly dying of bladder cancer. I've been trying to minister to this person, because they have ministered to me so often in my darkest hours. And in a way it's effortless to do so, because I love this person so damn much and don't want to imagine my life without them, but it's also been so damn hard, considering I'm still grieving losing my dad, and this friend's illness has opened up some not-so-old wounds.

Considering some deeply personal losses I've been struggling with but am not yet comfortable to share with the whole world.

I remember when I first moved back to Texas, to nurse my mom through her treatment after breast cancer surgery, I was reading a lot of Trungpa. And in Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism, he said, more or less, that our greatest purpose in life is to be there to comfort one another as we face our own deaths. That we're all afraid of dying, but that we can actually be there to relieve that fear for one another.

I've even promised another close friend I would sit vigil at their deathbed and read them the Tibetan Book of the Dead, if they wanted. That I would talk to their soul to let it know that it was moving on and that everything was gonna be okay.

And now that I've typed that, I remember it to be true.

Contemplating this somewhat further, I realize that it is wholly appropriate to deeply consider dear Death (and with that, of course, sweet Life) at this time of year. Everything is folding up and going within. The prana is moving from the periphery, the leaves of the trees, the plants, our bodies, everything, and drawing back into the core source. Animals are hibernating. If we could just sloooooow down and go with the natural flow, the holy days would probably go a little more smoothly for those of us who struggle or get stressed with them.

So here I go, allowing myself to rest a little. To work on less and to daydream more. I'm hoping and planning for a great 2010. It's gonna be big. But for now...

It's all pretty damn hard.

And it's all pretty much Love.