Earlier today, I raged and ranted. It’s all part of the process, I know. While some folks might not agree with me putting it all out here, I’m a writer. It’s what I do. I could do it in my journal, but I have found that when I journal, feelings and emotions and ideas don’t seem to really get out of me. The just sort of stay there and fester a bit.
Rage does that, too.
I have a wonderful friend who is helping to care for me during this time. She makes me laugh, she lets me cry, she says everything, she says nothing. I was talking with her last night on the phone when the rage hit and she messaged me this morning to check in. I knew immediately that I needed to see her and I knew what I needed her to do.
If you spend any time around folks in recovery (alcoholics, co-dependents, shopaholics, compulsive eaters, etc.,) or really around any yogis, you’ll hear people say, “I really need to get to a meeting,” or “I really need to get on the mat,” or something similar. Usually it’s when the world is spinning out of control and they have too many emotions and nothing makes sense, but it can sometimes be in times of great pain and great anger. I knew what I needed and where I needed to go. It wasn’t a meeting and it wasn’t the mat.
I needed to go to the place where Brian died.
That might sound morbid to many of you and there’s nothing I can say or do to make you feel otherwise. That’s okay. I can tell you, however, is that it is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been. In fact, it might be the most peaceful place. When things get squirrel-cagey for me, I know I have to go to the site because it brings almost instant peace. This time was no different.
I went and, although I didn’t have to say a word, I know he heard my rage. I know he felt my anger and my pain. I know it, and just as I know he felt it and heard it, I also know he took it away. I felt a physical shift in my heart and the rage was gone. Just like that. Gone. And in it’s place, love and peace and a little impishness. My friend said, “Wow, I feel Brian smiling here!”
I am not a fool. I know the anger and rage will come back from time to time, but I also know now what to do. I am so grateful that I will always have this place. I am so grateful that it will always be protected, that it will always be cared for, and that it will always be open and somewhat wild. It will always be there, it will always be beautiful, and it will always be there for me when I need that shift. Brian will always be there. And he will always be smiling.
For the moment, I am, too.