I woke this morning with a deep sense of loss, at last mourning the death of self.
It seems to have taken a bit of time for the realization to take hold, giving me back myself. I believe when we lose everything as I did, forced to retreat into another world, an ember remains of what we once were. The image of a Phoenix rising from the ashes comes to mind, having a much deeper meaning for me as I process this.
Realizing there is truth to my story also gives me hope I will one day meet those who know about me, who have kept items in safe keeping for me. I remember wishing for the kind of time I have now, back when mourning the loss of my family began. At the time enveloped by the deep sense of loss, but having to keep pushing it aside so I could function at my different jobs, took great effort. Not being able to share what was happening with anyone other than Patrick essentially kept everything at arms length. The true depth of my emotions has been coming closer to the surface the longer I am in isolation.
Acknowledging the loss of self was not something I expected to be so difficult to face, feeling almost numb when I first saw my true self. I lay awake this morning, the hour was early, darkness still surrounding me, allowing myself to accept, actually surrender to the loss. Although I was shivering, unable to feel the warmth of the blankets covering me, I didn’t fight the feeling. I have experienced this inner cold at the times when coming back to my body after my spirit has gone elsewhere. Until my body can regulate, which depends on the length of time my spirit has been absent, there is nothing I can do to feel warmth.
I fell asleep during this time of contemplation, the thoughts resonating with clarity the importance of remembering the truth of my spirit at birth.
So it was not another horror to face as I worried about, rather something of beauty. Acceptance of this loss more difficult than I would have imagined, perhaps explaining why it took so long for me to face it. The light of my young spirit slowly extinguished as I watched my world of love and joy destroyed. Not just seeing that image, but the knowing of what seeing it means – it was all true! This was why it was so difficult to face, realizing the truth was staring back at me, something I thought I knew, but hoped wasn’t. One by one those I loved, who loved me, taken, all our lives destroyed by hate, fear, anger and greed. I became but a shadow of my true self.
It is a far greater punishment to destroy someone, than to simply take their life. Living an empty existence, void of love and the protection it provides a much more devastating affect on a child, or anyone for that matter. To be nameless, homeless, without history or family means only a deep emptiness remains.
I found it interesting that my sea turtle necklace had broke through the night. The pendant was purchased after my ayahuasca ceremony, sort of a gift for getting through the experience, something to remind me there is a strong possibility of me finding home. The dream I had involving the turtle just before leaving Canada seems to connect to this theory. Really, I do not need the reminder, but found the weight of its presence around my neck comforting. That it broke this morning gave me pause, and I confess to not knowing the why of it yet. I was able to fix it, hoping I won’t lose it if it breaks again.
In a way there is a connection to seeing myself as I did. Really if home is where the heart is, then being reminded of a time when I belonged, had a good family and was loved, was this not the meaning of home? Not a place then, but a sense of belonging, being loved, being content. So there is a sense, if you believe in signs or the timing of certain things, that I was being told on one level I have found home.