5
2001
While gathering my eighty-seven year old mother even closer, I nod in agreement as she continues: “In most cases, it’s tragic to lose a husband, a wife, or parents. And that sense of tragedy magnifies each time irretrievable loss is stunningly unexpected. When you lose a child and irretrievable loss is out of order, the element of tragedy magnifies immeasurably.” After a moment, Mom adds, “When you lose the person who’s shared every aspect of your adult life—both the good and the bad—over sixty years—that loss feels impossible to accept. I hate when people say I’m ‘lucky’ that Dad went so fast. The person who dies fast is the lucky one, not the person who’s left to live at the end of life, alone. I never got the chance to say goodbye, and I always wonder if he really knew how much I loved him.”
2001
While gathering my eighty-seven year old mother even closer, I nod in agreement as she continues: “In most cases, it’s tragic to lose a husband, a wife, or parents. And that sense of tragedy magnifies each time irretrievable loss is stunningly unexpected. When you lose a child and irretrievable loss is out of order, the element of tragedy magnifies immeasurably.” After a moment, Mom adds, “When you lose the person who’s shared every aspect of your adult life—both the good and the bad—over sixty years—that loss feels impossible to accept. I hate when people say I’m ‘lucky’ that Dad went so fast. The person who dies fast is the lucky one, not the person who’s left to live at the end of life, alone. I never got the chance to say goodbye, and I always wonder if he really knew how much I loved him.”
“Of course he knew, Mom. Actions speak louder than words.”
“I don’t know, Annie. I wasn’t demonstrative the way he was with me. I regret that, every day.”
Sitting next to my mother, the intimate nature of our conversation swings between the past and the present, and during a moment of silent reflection, I remember reading, somewhere, that people must grow strong in these three ways: To embrace new people, raised differently from us. To embrace change and let each other go (like little birds, in need of flying free?). This suggests that our minds must develop inner strengths, which empower our spirits to accept both sides of whatever fate tosses into our laps—the joy and the heartache—as life continues to unfold. Finally, along with developing the strength to accept the inevitable, irretrievable loss of beloved family and friends, we each must let go of life, itself. (
At this point in my life, experience suggests a fourth reason for consciously developing inner strength at every age and stage. I believe it is wise to muster the strength to offer forgiveness to loved ones, who have not yet gathered the courage (inner strength) to hold themselves accountable for betrayals, which had cut to the core. In this way, we create our own peace of mind. *When a person grows so strong as to forgive betrayal, this heartfelt strength demonstrates unconditional love.
*Unconditional love demands high levels of maturity for this reason: One must neutralize negative judgments by recognizing human vulnerabilities, all around. Upon working to neutralize the brain's natural instinct toward judgment, we offer each other the benefit of the doubt. Then, once the brain is calm, it's wise to ask questions. I mean, really, isn't that what you'd hope others would choose to do with you? Ask questions instead of making assumptions ... and then assuming made-up assumptions are facts!
If you hope loved ones would make amends for transgressions in judgment, which had 'put you down' when support had been needed, is it not wise to apologize for undeserved judgments of your own? Whereas hiding resentment or burning with silent humiliation proves weak, embracing humility and confronting egocentricity proves spiritually strengthening in this way: Each time a hot spot cools down, for real, we clear tension from the air; tenderness replaces defensiveness; warm hearts melt walls, and relationships, stuck in the mud, feel free to move forward, again.
Shove hot spots under the rug and watch embers of defensiveness burst into fireworks, again and again. As always, addressing hot spots, or not, is a matter of choice.
When I feel the need to confront a hot spot, which others persistently deny, strengths, such as hopefulness and patience, offer my mind a peaceful sense of solace while readiness to drop pretense and confront reality matures on all sides. As life's lessons are not learned in ABC order, each person's choice to confront or deny reality depends upon how quickly each one's defensiveness ignites. Bottom line: Differing levels of maturity go hand in hand with self control.
If asked why it's so hard to neutralize negative judgments, here is what I'd say: *The brain is programmed to judge so spontaneously that we often don't know that a 'snap judgment' has been made. And as it's tough to keep up with today's busy pace, time spent in introspective reflection may have become a lost art.
At this point in my life, experience suggests a fourth reason for consciously developing inner strength at every age and stage. I believe it is wise to muster the strength to offer forgiveness to loved ones, who have not yet gathered the courage (inner strength) to hold themselves accountable for betrayals, which had cut to the core. In this way, we create our own peace of mind. *When a person grows so strong as to forgive betrayal, this heartfelt strength demonstrates unconditional love.
*Unconditional love demands high levels of maturity for this reason: One must neutralize negative judgments by recognizing human vulnerabilities, all around. Upon working to neutralize the brain's natural instinct toward judgment, we offer each other the benefit of the doubt. Then, once the brain is calm, it's wise to ask questions. I mean, really, isn't that what you'd hope others would choose to do with you? Ask questions instead of making assumptions ... and then assuming made-up assumptions are facts!
If you hope loved ones would make amends for transgressions in judgment, which had 'put you down' when support had been needed, is it not wise to apologize for undeserved judgments of your own? Whereas hiding resentment or burning with silent humiliation proves weak, embracing humility and confronting egocentricity proves spiritually strengthening in this way: Each time a hot spot cools down, for real, we clear tension from the air; tenderness replaces defensiveness; warm hearts melt walls, and relationships, stuck in the mud, feel free to move forward, again.
Shove hot spots under the rug and watch embers of defensiveness burst into fireworks, again and again. As always, addressing hot spots, or not, is a matter of choice.
When I feel the need to confront a hot spot, which others persistently deny, strengths, such as hopefulness and patience, offer my mind a peaceful sense of solace while readiness to drop pretense and confront reality matures on all sides. As life's lessons are not learned in ABC order, each person's choice to confront or deny reality depends upon how quickly each one's defensiveness ignites. Bottom line: Differing levels of maturity go hand in hand with self control.
If asked why it's so hard to neutralize negative judgments, here is what I'd say: *The brain is programmed to judge so spontaneously that we often don't know that a 'snap judgment' has been made. And as it's tough to keep up with today's busy pace, time spent in introspective reflection may have become a lost art.
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