What I Was Spared

I’ve had very little time for writing the last several months. In spring, we had some staffing changes around my father’s care, and I’ve taken on a more active, day-to-day role in managing his care and medications. I’ve been acknowledging to myself and others, that I have been involved in his care for 18 years now, since his brain aneurysm. The last 13 years of that has been as the sole adult family member directly responsible for his care, since my mother passed away. The magnitude of this many years of caregiving has fully etched itself throughout my life.

We attended an appointment with one of my father’s doctors last week. As other staff were covering these particular appointments for the last 2-3 years and giving me reports, it was the first time I’d been able to speak with the doctor at length since about 2013. It turns out my father had made some critical medical decisions, which I was not told about. Given his short-term memory issues, it is not surprising that he would not relate these decisions to me. But I was surprised that the staff covering these appointments had not shared this information and his wishes with me. It is an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. The doctor looked kindly at me, and said he thought I had not been informed. It is another level of acceptance and grieving for me to acknowledge that this has happened. Another poignant brush-stroke within the landscape of caregiving for my father.

A few weeks ago I was contacted by a member of a spiritual community, where I used to practice back in California in 1997-2003. One of their teachers was coming to town and would be sharing teachings on preparing for a peaceful death. I decided to attend, on the surface because I wanted support with caregiving my father, especially with his more and more vocal desire to die. But the most transformational thing I experienced during that day, was not about preparing for death, either my father’s or my own.  It was nothing I could have anticipated.  Profound, but not at all what I thought would be happening…

So here is what happened.   The teacher began sharing about her own life path, which had many remarkable situations with death or accidents propelling her to an awareness of impermanence.   She described meeting her Tibetan spiritual teacher, and being compelled into urging her teacher to marry her so he could more effectively establish his centers in the United States.   My jaw dropped.   The karmic approach and life path was very similar to what arose for me when I met my energetic healer.  The life she experienced with her teacher, and spiritual husband, is what I projected towards my energetic healer.   What I was seeing sitting before me last weekend, was the fruition of 23 years of that type of spiritual partnership which I reached for, but was not destined to experience.

There would be no way for me to even put into words all that  I perceived.   And, in no way am I saying that the spiritual partnership she experienced is not profound, honorable and worthy. But for me with all my karmic background,  it wasn’t until she sat before me, that I truly understood why my energetic healer & spiritual teacher completely rejected those projections.   I saw in life textured detail,  what I was spared.  What I was spared, by him with his more awakened karmic awareness.

This realization happening within a day long teaching on preparing for death, was a deep vulnerability within a larger context of softening with the ultimate human letting go.  I’m not even sure I could have seen what I saw, outside of that context.  It is a death of who I thought I was to be in this lifetime, to be able to so thoroughly see that to have gotten what I wanted would have been a horrible obstacle, a kind of hell.

Many times when I have such a recognition regarding the healing work I’ve done with my healer,  I make an effort share with him what I have come aware of.   There can still be an emphasis on the importance of that relating.   And on the human level that does have its value.  But this weekend, the weight of this recognition landed so squarely on my own shoulders.  He already saw this long ago.

This entry was posted in caregiving, dying, Embodiment, Grief, Healing, Kindness, Past Lives, Spiritual Teachers. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to What I Was Spared

  1. Pingback: Sometimes, Somehow | The Stream of Life

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