Noticing Opens Possibilities
The dreaded time had arrived. The mortician escorted my family to my dad before relatives and friends entered to say “goodbye.” I stood back from the casket. I didn’t want to face head-on Dad’s sudden death. My rigid stance held my ribs taut; I could hardly breathe. I was intent on controlling myself so I wouldn’t dissolve into tears. I also kept my focus on Mom. She was numb from the news of Dad’s fatal heart attack a few days earlier. Roger, now the man of the family, stood next to Mom, supporting her. Seeing she was in good hands, part of me tentatively relaxed. But still I held my composure. Suddenly I felt big paws on the back of my shoulders. It was Roger. His touch melted my encasement of protection and control. I turned to his chest and sobbed.
At times I repeat some of this experience, especially when a friend or family member soothes my upset or fear with a tender stroke on my shoulders. Sometimes I imagine the touch. It often calms the uncomfortable impact of what I’m feeling.
My mortuary experience involved a dramatic meltdown of strong emotions. Since then, my attention has turned to questions related to my experience in everyday life. How often am I aware of my emotions nudging me to get my attention? Am I too busy or distracted to notice what often are hints that something is going on within me or between other people? Frequently emotions are challenging friends even though I resist them. Why do I hesitate to give time and energy to linger with what could be a friend that gives me alerts to needs, dangers, and situations to avoid. Sometimes emotions signal possible movements toward a change for good, joy, friendship. They call for pauses to notice and respond. To what degree do I see my emotions as lower-class citizens than are my head and functioning skills? Why are emotions judged good or bad, positive or negative? Do I see them as integral to who I am as a human being rather than me being only a functionary? What will motivate me to engage in practices that support the rightful place of emotions in my life? What might result if I participate in activities such as meditating; watching movies and reading novels that draw me into emotional responses; talking with a friend to share about a situation that is vulnerable for me; reflecting on and celebrating accomplishments and challenges; engaging in physical activities that will help release energy?
I’ve learned that responding to these questions involves a life-long adventure. Answers often lead to more questions, more meltdowns, more “ahas,” and more caring “paws” on my shoulders that serve my transformation and that of others. These gifts come my way as the Spirit’s breeze, tap on the shoulder, forceful push or pull, and whirlwind? Will I notice? Will I respond? Will my responses be opening to possibilities of life?
Mary Reuter, OSB
