Thursday, August 12, 2010

the blog name.

Just the day before, Matt and I were talking about Jesus in the Garden - how, even though Jesus had deep, full faith in the world around and inside this one, it still stressed him out, knowing what he had to do. Even having witnessed amazing miracles, proof of the existence of things beyond usual sight, he was still scared, and sad, and lost. Even knowing what was to come after, he still begged to not have to drink this cup.

Rumi was destroyed when his teacher, Shams, died. Well, disappeared. Shams was abducted and presumed dead. Rumi wandered the countryside, sobbing, screaming, searching. Yogananda (one of Matt's favorites) was destroyed when his teacher, Sri Yukteswar, left his physical body.  Yogananda wrote: "beneath a hollow smile and a life of ceaseless activity, a stream of black brooding polluted the inner river of bliss for which so many years had meandered under the sands of all my perceptions." Even with his faith that his teacher had joined with the cosmic beloved, even with a faith way deeper than my own, he went dark.  

With everything Rumi and Yogananda knew, everything they had learned and witnessed and experienced, they were DESTROYED with the death of the ones they loved. It was only the tangible, physical evidence of their relationship continuing that brought them back. It was only knowing, fully knowing, that their love still grew, that they could go on to finish the work they were given to do. For Yoganda, it was seeing the resurrected form of his beloved friend. For Rumi, I don't know how it happened. It's written that someone asked him if he was still looking for Shams. Rumi smiled and said, "why would I go looking for him? He is right here, inside of me."

Even with everything Matt and I believed, even with as often as we talked about "leaving at any time," even for as often as we talked about the nature of this world, even with his friendliness towards death, even after I first told him he had a nice body and he said, "thanks. It's a rental," even with the deep faith and love we had, I had, even with all of this - I was not prepared for this. If Rumi and Shams and Jesus, with their faith far beyond mine, can get stuck in the net of believing all is gone, if their own faith can be so shaken, what chance does my own faith have. It's not really a question. It has to be enough. It helps to know that stronger faith than mine got shaken, and went dark.

The Edge of the Roof 


I don't like it here, I want to go back.
According to the old Knowers
If you're absent from the one you love
Even for one second that ruins the whole thing!

There must be someone... just to find
One sign of the other world in this town
Would be enough.

You know the great Chinese Simurgh bird
Got caught in this net...
And what can I do? I'm only a wren.

(from, The Soul Is Here For Its Own Joy, Sacred Poems From Many Cultures, edited by Robert Bly. For the rest of the poem, see


  1. Hi Megan - I'm glad that you started a blog. Good idea. You'll probably find it useful (and more) over time. No doubt, it will evolve in ways you don't yet know or expect.

    I've thought much the same - there are well-known and very wise people who have been almost utterly destroyed when they lost someone very close to them. If that was true for them, then what about me? I don't have much of an answer for that. I do, however, wonder if the person who were were so close to, somehow does become a part of us, or we take on some aspect of their being - and that helps us to continue onwards. I don't know - just a thought.

  2. Hi Megan,
    It came as something of a shock to me too to find myself writing a blog. I had always been ever so slightly sniffy about the concept and the people who do it. And yet...
    I hope it helps.


  3. bev - when I am really smacked, I look at all the books on our bookshelves, all the poetry I used to love, all the quantum physics and yogi stories, all the lives of saints and poets, and think - really? You are going to trash all of that and say there is nothing? And, no matter what it is - physics, physiology, love - something, I do know that I can now do pushups on my toes (couldn't before, matt was incredibly strong), my musculature has changed, my smell has changed, and there are foods I can no longer stand the taste of. You can explain it away and say it is my mind "compensating," but how cool is that, that the mind knows to compensate?! Plus, I really need him to be here with me, part of me.

    J - I know. I had such a twitch about writing at all. When people would suggest it to me (because I was a writer 'before'), I just snapped that our life is not subject matter. It's come to the point that I feel like I take over too much real estate on other peoples' blogs with my own - whatever things - I feel like saying. Too much Me Me Me in other peoples parlors.

  4. You are always welcome in our parlors, but I'm glad you started this. Writing your own blog does introduce people to your own tone, your own way of delivery.

    Prior to Michael dying I felt so sure about my beliefs in the after life. I was the one others turned to when wanting to understand true faith. That all changed on September 13th, 2009. I no longer know what to believe. I'm now on a quest to make sense of this world, and the next, if there is such a thing.

  5. If there is such a thing. It is so hard to hold onto isn't it. I was so at home in myself before July 12th. Now I often feel like I lied to myself (which I can't even type - I know that's not true), or what was true in me before is simply not relevant now. If it is no longer relevant, well then sheesh, NOTHING is relevant. Ever. And that just makes it impossible to live here at all.
    Make sense of the "and." Find, trust, maybe share, tangible evidence of love that sits next to this horror show. That's my quest, I think. Hope whoever is running this show is interested in helping along.