I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!
I miss you Indy.
I miss you. But I’m here with you in every cell. I’m in every part of your body. I’m with you every moment, every day. Drop your anger. Forgive. I was always meant to be with you in this way. I was never meant to live.
But my body misses you.
Yes, body. But… Spirit! Spirit! Spirit!
I want to be with you. I want to die.
Yes, there will be death. But live, live, live first. And then die. Live and live and live!
My son, Indy, who died in my belly at 23 weeks, came back to me during a therapy session in order to give me the above message. We have spoken before but I have never heard such urgency in him. This was something I needed to hear.
Indy told me to live. I will die. I will get to be with him again. I will feel peace. But right now is the time to live. I feel it as a responsibility that helps guide me forward. I should live, and live well. Before, perhaps, I thought it was my responsibility not to live or not to live well. Something hidden inside kept telling me I shouldn’t. But now that I have been told by something greater (my son, spirit, the beyond) that in fact it is my duty to live, I feel allowed, entitled, compelled to do so.
Day to day is harder. What does living fully actually mean? Am I supposed to seize each moment or simply recognise each moment? Do I lend myself to more movement or less, or stay exactly where I am? Do I have more to give, more to do? The answer I think is no. No more is needed. But it is always hovering, this question of ‘Am I doing enough? Am I enough?’
I have been trying out a new tactic. My internal dialogue goes like this.
Am I enjoying this? Hmmm, I could be if I just relaxed my jaw, and, oh listen, the birds are singing, I enjoy that. And I enjoy this room with its blue walls. Just the right shade of blue that makes me feel calm…
Am I enjoying this? It is a question I now ask myself twenty times a day, whenever I remember. And it serves to draw me away from what disturbs my peace and remind me of the many things around me that make me feel good. It is a way to be more attuned to the positive and to feel gratitude simply by allowing myself to find pleasure. Even when the answer is ‘No, I’m not enjoying this’, it reminds me that I can look, if I choose, for something small to bring light to the dark. There is always something. It also reminds me that I won’t feel gloomy for too long. Earlier today I enjoyed my breakfast and a cuddle with my dog. Her fur is so soft. Even while feeling blue, I can enjoy the fact that I am being with myself and learning how to self-soothe. If I feel pain or tension, I can adjust my body in order to enjoy the sensation. I don’t enjoy the pain. But being able to relax into it brings relief and acceptance, and that is something to enjoy.
Perhaps this simple question is my answer to being more fully alive. If I’m going to suffer through being a human, I will try to enjoy it where possible, any moment I can.
P.S. his message also speaks of the nature of spirit. Death is not the end. There is nothing really lost. The bodily feeling of grief is very difficult. But what about the spirit? An even greater force, an even greater gift. It is a very real and powerful way to be with someone, spirit to spirit. There is hope in this for every person who has lost someone or any person who feels alone. Thank you Indy for giving me the message. You have helped me to feel free to enjoy my life.
