The other day was the anniversary of my brother’s death. We lost him over 10 years ago… and the only thing constant about the evolution of grief is that it’s never constant … making it one of my favorite things: interesting. It so happens that I had a lot on my mind that day, and virtual shout outs to those no longer existing in the physical wasn’t the first thing on it, but I felt pretty peaceful considering… so I thought I’d offer this …
(I shall strive to speak to my imagined audience as ego-less as possible…)
It’s different every time, but this year was the first year I felt pure gratitude &* clarity.
Grateful for the death of my brother.
Grateful for his life… and grateful for his death… & resooooounding clarity.
My big brother and my relationship with him shaped the entire course of my life. His death impacted me so profoundly, as it did for so many, that my hero’s journey became a map of fog. It may have initially been a state of disorientation, but the path of healing has been incredible & incredibly worth it. We were all impacted by his life and his death, one in the same … and the acceptance of the past as it is & the forgiveness it has led me to has left me feeling totally .. fucking. liberated.
I miss my brother. So much. Of course. But, missing who he was in the physical means missing out on who he has reemerged as in the non-physical… Because reaching for him back there.. in the past.. disconnects me from him here in the present. He’s still here… always, infinitely, forever.
I accept that this was the fate of his life within my life; our relationship is now transcendental. The liberty of acceptance has bred new life, and it’s not denial, nor passive observance. Instead, it’s complete acceptance that I control nothing outside of myself, only to align in real time, giving me greater access to my most elevated version. & sure, what is truth anyway? Well, my truth is my truth, and so on. It’s not being afraid of what we may have placed behind a veil. As Satori once said, “It’s faith, not fog.” It’s accepting what’s behind the veil for being true and real. To become conscious of the unconscious, we must first accept that which is real for what it is unto it’s entirety. Not the version we wish to see or don’t wish to see, not the version we project, but the truth emerged just as it is, and firstly accepting it just as that… then, faith that all is as it should be.
So, I accept every thing as it was, is, and is to be. My gratitude is for every person that has walked through my life… the good teachers and the bad teachers (still teachers). Or those that could still see me in the dark… once deep in pain (aka a fucking mess). For those that left me in pain, exposing where I was weak in boundary. Thank you for enemies, open or hidden, cultivating my inner voice and illuminating to me so brightly when I didn’t use it, inwardly or outwardly. For those that gave me life and those that drained it. Those that stayed and those that didn’t. For all that hit or reactivated wounds and vulnerabilities, aka divine opportunities to grow, to heal. I have faith that there’s something for me in every moment, even at it’s darkest, as being part of the package of life. I accept that sometimes it’s not always what we think it’s going to be, so the more I accept that, the more in the moment I become & the more ‘subtle joy,’ as Erich Schiffmann puts it, can begin to move in. And as much as it would be nice to have a story with my brother still in it… it’s still my story left to live, and the way he’s in it now is actually way fucking cooler. He gave me the mojo, the torch, and his power radiates stronger than ever.
& maybe it’s all the yoga, or that I’m blissed out on those Cali sunsets, or that this year has just been the best…. but really, it’s that the conditions of the physical world dictated so much of my life for so long, that I strive to choose: beyond. I choose to be empowered by a day that I once called the worst of my life.. instead I choose to embrace his highest version… now. Who he was is still great, but his soul remains nonetheless… and it’s the greatest.
I offer that to any one that has lost someone… which we all have in some way. But, consider it an alternate, reframed perspective.
& as it lies on my skin in ink,