spiritual reconnection

Two weeks ago, on Wednesday of week 6, I woke up thinking, “I am so tired of this. I just can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to feel like this.”

I felt lost. I felt helpless. I felt the despair that I was feeling last Spring when my depression from the job and lack of emotion from old lover had overcome me. But now, I had less than I had had even then. I made a decision that I wanted to be different, though I didn’t know what that meant.

I decided to call the only man other than Bo to whom I had ever felt spiritually connected. It was more than the spiritual connection though. When I had moved away, his healthy, lively mother died in a car accident. And I remembered how it hit him so hard. I knew he would understand me. But at the same time, I feared that hearing how I was doing would reopen some of his wounds.

I texted him. He texted back. I tiptoed around it until he just flat out asked me what was going on. He called me. And it was probably the best thing that happened to me in 6 weeks.

He felt me. I told him I didn’t know anything anymore and he….agreed. He said, “We don’t know shit.” But he proceeded to travel into my head and give me knowledge. Some of it was about things that we had talked about years ago. Some of it was about things that I had once believed, but had somehow forgotten. And some of it was about things that Bo and I had talked about. He told me I had to walk through this, and that he was sorry, but there was no way around it if I wanted to heal. He said the path was my own.

He told me about how he went to a grief group and felt the conflict with the biblical teachings. And how he sat there angry. Then, I began to realize that I was also angry while I was going to my grief group. He suggested that I might be getting traumatized by attending the group; and I agreed. So, I decided that I would not go anymore — that I needed to expand my mind and help myself in a way that the group could never do. I felt good about my decision.

I asked him when does this all end. He said that not a day goes by that he doesn’t still think of his mother. He understood the difference between losing a mother and losing an intimate partner and even explained how I might be feeling, without offending me (and he was correct). He described how we humans create these rules about how we ought to live and ever so compassionately reminded me that Bo and I were just two people, regardless of other man made circumstances, who connected to each other’s spirits and connected in love…and that we found one another and loved one another and that was all that mattered.

He sent me links of things to read. I read half of it that night and other half the next morning. I decided to finally pick up my grad school text and a highlighter, and tried to finish my work (although I have a while to do it because I was given an incomplete). I don’t think I read one sentence, but it was a significant step to actually get things together and come out of my room.

He sent me clips of lectures to listen to that were based on grief, dying, death and…after. As I listened to the first clip, with my grad book open in my lap, I became caught almost in a trance like state. The end of this particular lecture was almost verbatim a conversation that I had had with Bo — where Bo was attempting to explain why people didn’t understand me and why I didn’t understand them, but how it wasn’t my fault (or theirs) because I was just operating on a different level of consciousness (though he referred to it as “dimensions”).

I rewound it and listened to the part again. I was in utter shock. I felt like my Spiritual Friend had given me Bo…had somehow passed this to me so I could hear Bo and understand…things…and feel Him. It was like receiving a present. I sat on the couch immobilized, gazing out of the sliding glass door for what felt like an hour.

Then, I became extremely fatigued. I had to lie down for what I thought would be a nap. I couldn’t sleep though because I wasn’t sleepy. I just needed to rest my mind and let my heart rate decrease.

I had an almost happy day after that. I set my candles in my room to a white color, contrasting the blue that I usually slept with since Bo died. I chatted. I left the house and ran errands. And when I came back into my room to settle for the night, I noticed that my candles were red. I asked everyone in the house if they had changed my candles (no one comes into my room and no one would know where the remote is). Nope.

I went to bed and talked to Bo, thanking him for loving me (in the first days after his death, that was what I would do before I went to sleep). I awoke in the middle of the night to a tiny white light in my room, close to the foot of my bed. I remembered that this was actually the second time I had seen this white light….

The first time, was maybe within the 1st or second week after His death. It appeared toward the foot of my bed. I sat up and began to move things around, trying to see if it was my phone (no), my bluetooth (no) or my computer (no). I laid back down, smiled and went to sleep.

…I didn’t look around this time. I knew it wasn’t any electronics. I went back to sleep.

One night last summer, I set my diffuser color to red to dimly illuminate the room for our love-making. It was a sexy, beautiful, and special color for that particular night…