My life partner is gone. At our wedding we promised each other we would go into the heart of God together. The day of our wedding, my vows read:
I promise to love you unconditionally
no matter what lessons and gifts God lays down before us
to support you in times of sorrow and of joy
to minister to you when you are in need
to honor the true, the beautiful, and the Divine within you
to share my life openly and freely with you
to be your one and only lover and your best friend
to go together into the heart of God
with the loving and guidance of Jesus Christ and the Mystical Traveler
and to remain your loyal and faithful companion through it all.
Spirit give me the strength to live my life whole
with you leading the way, and my Beloved Kenny by my side.
"Baruch Bashan," the Blessings Already Are.
In retrospect, I can't help but wonder who channels such promises? What could we have expected of each other? Who can live up to such vows?
There's no doubt we worked at it. We apologized almost daily for our many transgressions. We participated in workshops, councelings, classes, we cleared ourselves energetically as best we could -- we did almost everything together, hand in hand, soul and soul.
Yet, there was a huge gap in our daily existence as man and wife, with the knowledge and understanding that our love was slated and we were fulfilling our destiny together. Truth be told, it was mostly a result of the traumas we had experienced in our lives prior to meeting each other. Somewhat unconsciously, we channeled it into a behavior we perpetuated for the purpose of self-preservation.
Thinking back at it, what were the sources of my traumas? What could cloud the deepest love I have ever experienced in this lifetime? What could set the wedges gashing at our hearts? Whatever they might be, they added up to a frozen nervous system, from infancy to adulthood, habitually set on fight or flight, or alternatively frozen like a deer staring into oncoming headlights.As for him, I couldn't dare a guess at the earlier ones, although I had heard about the physical, emotional and mental stress he suffered as a child, and later on, the near-death experience of Hurricane Iniki and the near helicopter crash.
We came to each other in innocence, yet tainted by our life experiences. We ran on rote, ignoring the signs of destruction, falling head over heals in love no matter how many red flags were hoisted in our direction -- pointed at him, pointed at me. We were a perfect match of innocents seeking to be rescued. In his dream, I was to usher him into the soul realm and in my dream he was to envelop me in unconditional love, forever taking the place of the father that went off to war and came back damaged by the ravages of hand-to-hand combat, emotionally scarred, his own brand of frozen-in-time.
All the plans, the dreams, the patience and forgiveness. All the vacations and road trips, the house hunting and furniture buying. The trips back to the beloved Island House, site of a lifetime of yearly family reunions. Too few years spent together, too young to die, but most of all, too young to leave me alone -- yet again.
Kenny's death catapulted me into a new era of my life. I miss him terribly and wish all the learning I've done since he passed could make him come back. But while we were both in the physical body, we were frozen in our responses to each other's weaknesses. Locked into a set reactions that neither assisted nor moved us. We were stuck in our own private miasm.
I'd been through Reichian therapy, bioenergetics, psychodrama, spiritual counselings, I'd studied in MSIA for 36 years, became an initiate and minister, graduated from Temple University, University of Santa Monica and Peace Theological Seminary with masters degrees -- and after all that psychological work and soul searching, my body still held on to measured responses, to unpredictable reactions of rage and defense, to lashing out and withholding love and truth, and an aloofness that belied the longing for closeness and intimacy.
But this time, I was all too aware of what seemed like lifetimes of a kind of pain that surely derived from welled up sadness and anger, welled up loss and betrayal. If only one of these modalities worked.. wouldn't that be a miracle!
Those vows we took were to manifest themselves fully and completely during the last nine months of Kenny's life. So much so that we became as one being, headed straight for God's heart on a supersonic shuttle. I've said it so many times before: the love, the spiritual energy, were palpable. The constant companionship played like the colors in a Monet landscape; the taking care of each other looked like a storybook fairytale of true love -- and it was! His journey to God became more evident each and every day as Kenny neared his passing. He got closer to God with measured breaths now, and took me with him on the most magnificent journey any of us could ever imagine, that all of us will someday experience ourselves. I only hope I have the consciousness, the sense of adventure, and the willingness to let go and let in the God that Kenny demonstrated. Today he's among the Souls watching over us from other worlds. He makes his presence known through his sweetness, his sense of humor, his love of nature. All his sisters, many of our friends, and I sense his essence is often near.
In my quest for healing, peace, deeper understanding and love and compassion for myself, after Ken's passing, I found somatic therapy--the subject of my next article.
I invite you like this post and to comment--share your story, in the comment field if you like, or by emailing me directly at carol.jones43@yahoo.com.