Holy Grief...

Last week I made a choice

to stand

to dance

to sit
to be

in my grief.

Life holds grief within it's threads...

None go with out an encounter with grief

 It is my observation

that our culture is not great with grief
It is my observation 
that our culture is not "interested" in grief 

It is my observation

that our culture does not honour grief

or hold it as the sacred map that it is...

a scared map to our hearts greatest love.

So with-in the sacred container of In Her Skin

with the lovely Stacey De La Rosa  
and the lovely Isabel Faith Abbott 
as our guides and space holders
myself along with many other brave souls
encountered our grief for a full 7 days...
and this was some of the results.
* 

My Grief

My grief sits in my rib cage

Holding on to my ribs as a prison holds on to her prison bars

My grief rests on my heart

Moving with its rhythms not missing a beat

My grief is in my hands

Held, Caressed and Felt every time something brushes up against it

My grief is on my face

Lines in my skin, marking the path on which it dragged itself across me

My grief resonates in my hips

It is here is lifts me up, awakens me to truth, allows me to see

My grief is the hot lava flow and the ice cold mountain stream

It slams into me like the ocean against the rocks

And it gently touches me like a falling feather

My grief wants a voice and needs to be heard

Pouring out as I listen with deep intent

My grief longs to be held

Rocked in my arms as my tears spill out upon it

Washed in my salty tears it feel acknowledge and seen

Naked

In my Grief

I stand in this place

Deeply needing to give this attention

I have traveled a long way to be here

This place is not lost on me

Sacred and Holy

This honouring of Grief

My body is weary from the journey

and I need rest

I need space to breathe…

to breathe into and with

the grief that resides in my body

so that we might sing together

My grief and I

That we might make sacred sound

beautiful music

about the truth of us

our truth

our beautiful,

luminescent,

hideous truth….

~Catherine Beerda-Basso

Oct. 26, 2015

 *

 Indulge

(to hear my voice to this poem, click here...) 

She lays across me

Taunt

Thin

Ever present

Seen

But not seen

Felt

But not felt

She is a part of my being

Thick with emotion

And yet…

Grief

It calls me to give her voice

It calls me to be held and acknowledge

I felt I had

But Grief whispers

“Indulge…

Indulge in me and heal your past

Indulge and learn new ways

Indulge and know your Self deeper”

I heard a wise man say these words,

“The cradle of your life…is death.” ~Stephen Jenkinson

Grief concurs

She tells me the cradle of my life is Her

It is in Her I find what matters to me the most

It is in Her I find my deepest heart desires.

Like shards of glass she moves up my throat

I try to swallow her down and

I can’t decide if it hurts more to swallow her

Or let her come up

She whispers

“What if you just let me come…

what would happen if you allowed me up

and out…

The worst has already happened hasn’t it?

For I am already here.”

Indulge.

To indulge in my grief…

To allow it to come and be with me fully.

This Grief that I speak of has been with me for a life time

It is long suffering

It is thread to my tapestry

Beautiful golden and silver thread

Woven in and out of my life line…my story.

I’ve lived with it

I’ve managed it

I’ve tucked it away

for a time such as this

~The Season of Death~

for her to come up and stand before me

reminding me

that she is still here.

Indulge

Allow

Find your answers

in your grief

Find your story

in your sobs

Find your transformation

in your tears

It becomes so that I am unable to decipher

if it is I who is holding her

or if it is she who is holding me…

The vision between us is blurred

as we move back and forth

in these waves of emotion

So much so I feel myself release

and let go.

Indulge

Yes I will Indulge

And I will honour

For what was, has made me

molded me

shaped me

And there are those things that I miss

Times that I long for

Dreams that have died

They all deserved to be honoured

To be acknowledged

To be grieved for

So together

She and I

We enter into this dance

Slow and steady

Moving fluidly as one

She and I

Loving

Breathing

Honouring

Living

Indulging

~Catherine Beerda-Basso 

Oct. 28-2015

*

 

This is what I thought...this is how I saw myself most of my life...damaged goods...after loads of healing work, I don't feel that way anymore, but the residue remains and I have to say it felt really honouring and honest to collect this image...My husband wrote the words and collected the image for me...bless him...he did not fully understand why I wanted to do this, and it was hard for him to write the words...of course he knows my story and it has pained his heart...he has stood by me as I came back to life...interesting thing is as soon as I lay down and he started shooting, he got it, he understood....that in itself meant so much to me.
Damaged Goods
I hold that part of me that felt that way
I honour her, stand with her, wipe her tears and hold her hand
  she was a bad ass warrior...feeling the way she did and still facing life both barrels blazing
bloody and battered she fought on
wild and sometimes even mad
but she got me here
and for that
for that I am ever
and forever
grateful

Oct, 30-2015 

*

 "Grief is not static. It wanders and roams...it torments and demands and leaves us tossed up on the shore, exhausted and grateful after all these years, for solid ground." ~In Her Skin

"Trusting my body is not something that simply walked in the door one day. it is a daily practice."

~Stacey De La Rosa

 

Walking the Grief Lands

...and when I circle back
from walking the grief lands of my being
I see my Self
Wholly
and Holy
For I am The Medicine
I am Sacred space
I am the Alter of my Life
All I need is within me
stitch inside me when I came to be by Love
Yes
there were forces that tried to separate me from this Love
It confused me
seduced me
tormented and taunted me
lured me away from the Truth
about who I was...who I am
But
no matter how far I was pulled
no matter how far I strayed
the Love never left me
Even though it felt lost to me
in the darkness of my suffering
it remained
and always will...
I am the Medicine
I am Sacred Space
I am the Alter of my Life
every piece of me an offering
every piece of me a sign of a real life lived
every piece of me a reflection of Divinity
and so I remain...  

  

~Catherine Beerda-Basso

 Nov.2 2015

 *

November 3 2015

This week was a gift...

it was 

cleansing, 

purifying 

and 

heart breakingly

beautiful.

I was especially moved by the call to Indulge

to Indulge in my grief

to take from her

and learn more about me...

 and this life I am living

Grief is a Gift

Love and Light