A river runs through it.
This is the mental image that keeps coming to me when I think of the deep emotional base that runs through the physical. Not always evident, often latent, but constantly present. When the depths are plumbed, a sort of geyser can erupt, with a surprising amount of energy and volume. When Ken was dying, there were occasions when that velocity would arrise. That sounds like a severe understatement, but its true. In the busy transactions of day to day living, one rarely has time to sit alone and cry, or scream, or navigate the deep pools of fear, and loss, and sadness. And so it rises to the surface in less expected ways.
The river carries all manner of emotional componants simultaneously, so it seems when one variety is released, it surfaces with remnants of other, equally powerful and forceful "spirits".
My theory was reinforced over the weekend. Stomach weakening laughter on friday plumbed the depths of that latent river and dragged up with it a sense of melancholy that followed me to my workplace on Saturday. Frustrating events at work, coupled with this debilitating sense of sadness brought up another current-- that of red hot fury. The sort that makes you walk away and close a door behind you because you've glimpsed an ugliness in your soul that shocks you. You are brought undeniably face to face with your own depravity. Your own potential to be not nice.
These past few days of white water rafting haven't all been fun and games. But they've allowed (or rather, forced) me to take some time for re-evaluation. Ken's death, and the loss of all the componants of family that it ensued, has caused the universe, and me in it, to shift eternally. That was then and this is now. We will never be entirely the same again. And although that's true every day, whether we go through a life changing event or not, sometimes these rather large events give us pause to stop, clean house, throw out, or re-group as necessary.
And so the emotional rapids have come up to the surface for a time. They've washed away some driftwood. They've washed clear some of the corridors of my mind and aided me in remembering whats most important in this journey. Time.
I will make more changes. I will become more fully present for my chldren. For my husband. For my mom and dad.
It won't be easy.
But its one lifeboat that I'll gratefully climb into.
*disclaimer* No small animals, children, clients, goldfish, or houseguests were harmed in the events unvieled in this writing. Really. And it goes without saying, that because I plan to make some changes that will buy me more time in this life, there will be plenty of time for more parties with more people who I gratefully consider my friends. Strangers in my opinion, are merely friends whom I've yet to meet and share cheese with. And don't let the bit about rage frighten you. It frightens me, and that should be enough for the both of us.