Theos-Talk Archives (January 1999 Message tl00069)

Murray wrote:

>This I found when my first wife died of cancer 20 years ago.

Not to dig into your personal life, but you were quite young when your
first wife died.  That is an awful lot to deal with when someone is just
beginning their journey into adulthood.  I am assuming your wife was young
also, which can seem to make death all the worse.  I admire people like you
who, having faced great trials, still manage to grow and cultivate their
Compassion.  Compassion can be a hard thing to hold on to - more so when it
is tested very early.

>Grief is not just one big negative, as people so often assume, because it
>includes the work of processing the myriad thoughts and feelings and
>aspects of your relationship with the newly-dead person - an intense review
>of their life and an adjustment to being without their physical company and
>communication. This may well parallel what they are going through, in some
>ways, but I suspect that we on earth take longer to do it.

Yes, I have often wondered what the newly-dead experience - whether they
grieve, have to adjust, miss their loved ones, etc.  In Western society the
dead are often portrayed as going merrily into heaven with not a thought of
what or who remains behind.  It would seem odd if that were true, unless
some kind of 'sudden enlightenment' occurs, which doesn't seem quite
logical either.

>I
>can imagine *you* being influenced by socially-implanted ideas, of course
>... :)

Oh, how I wish that were so!  My past years as a Catholic to Christian
Fundamentalist has left some residual "poison" which serves to frighten and
shake my foundations on occasion.  It's hard to remove imprints that have
been hammered into you for years and years - only later do you realize the
damage done.  Now I've swung almost completely to the other side, I think -
hopefully, in time, balance will come.

>One thing that theosophical sources offer, is the possibility of meeting
>our dead loved ones on the inner planes while we sleep. This one is both
>nice and tantalising, as we generally remember nothing of it. Dreams - take
>lightly; they can be just subconscious dregs being thrown up while
>processing, or may symbolise some kind of inner-level contact in an
>expressive and precious way.

This is very interesting.  There have been times, in the past, while
grieving, that I have awoken with the feeling that "something" happened -
something that helped me, something that comforted me, something that told
me all is well.

This particular time is fraught with bad dreams - dreams that she's not
really dead and is buried alive and suffering, dreams that there are bugs
coming in and out of her ears, dreams where I find her under a pile of
ashes still alive.  Clearly, my mind is struggling to accept this death,
but it somehow must.

>That searing
>experience has borne a wonderful harvest, however, in a greater ability to
>empathise with others, and a clear vision of head-knowledge as a set of
>models of reality.

Yes, it seems everything is questioned at times like this.  And I am now
filled with a great fear of the future because I keep thinking "I don't
want to feel this pain even one more time."  I can understand how people
'shut down' - how people isolate themselves.  I am a very solitary person
as it is, but I look around at the few who I have allowed into my heart of
hearts and secretly hope that I will pass on before them.  Intellectually,
of course I know this is not the 'right' way of thinking and I understand
that grief is a process - all this stuff has to be brought forward and
dealt with.  I know that closing down is not the answer.

Grief, for some of us, can be so primal.  Sometimes it seems nothing but
pure instinct keeps us going - other times, the Light is allowed in.  Back
and forth, back and forth.

God, I hate grief - but it is grief that made the poets.  So, as you said,
it is not all "negative" - but in the beginning, the negative moments can
outnumber the gentler moments.  Time will take care of this imbalance, but
Time needs to hurry up.  Time has the audacity of taking its own sweet time.

If I ever come face to face with Time, I shall challenge it to a duel.

Kym