Monday, July 9, 2012

Day 85 After the death of my husband


Day 85 After the death of my husband
I was sitting in a cafe and suddenly I saw this elderly couple; my parents were there. I felt this sadness come up, as a drama, of myself no longer having my husband to grow old with, to have the supposed “golden years” of a relationship.
But the whole time I was this, I also did not really feel this. For some reason, here I was being what I know I was supposed to be, but it was somehow not real to me. It was like a crying that was not real. 
So, I am sitting here, watching a part of myself cry about no longer having a life with the same man, and wondering why I was doing this when it was not real.


I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to be sad because I will not have a husband, the father of my children to grow old with.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to be the character of the matriarch growing old with a husband.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to believe that the character of myself as the wife of a man with whom I grow old is lost because my husband is dead and therefor my life has become limited because I will not have the opportunity to exist in the role of the elderly couple living out their golden years.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to be the character of the widow, believing that this is somehow less than the couple living into their “golden years.”
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to judge being a widow as less than and a long time married couple as more than/superior.
I forgive myself for allowing and accepting myself to have had the emotion of sadness that I will not live the idea of “the golden years.”
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see realize and understand that when I became sad after my husband died, that I would not have this, I actually had the thought that somehow none of what I was feeling was real.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to have seen at that moment after the sudden death of my husband, that somehow I could see that the emotions I was feeling as what I believed I was supposed to feel, I in fact did not.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to have stopped the emotion that was in me at the time as it was based on an idea, as what i had been taught, and not life.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to see, realize and understand that I was afraid of saying this, even though I was aware of this, because I feared it would be considered as something being wrong with myself, when in fact, it was more an acceptance without judgement, as I was still here and I did not feel different.
I forgive myself for not allowing and accepting myself to have seen while at that same moment, a couple of days after the death of my husband, there was an arab couple in the restaurant where this happened, and the man accompanied the woman to the bathroom, and within my own drama I was watching this and thought, why must this man take this woman to the bathroom, why does this exist that a woman cannot go to the bathroom by herself, and what a burden to constantly follow a woman around for both parties.
I forgive myself for not having allowed myself to see realize and understand that all the characters around me moving as belief , opinion and idea, were not in fact living.


I commit myself to realizing the crying of my own mind in and as the separation from life i allow and accept myself to exist as, that is inconsiderate of all life, of this physical world.

I commit myself to stopping the tears falling through and as my mind.

I commit myself to realizing that tears falling in and as the thoughts as ideas, beliefs and opinions, are not in fact real, and are a separation from life.

I commit myself to stopping the self pity, the comparison, the competitions that are what my thoughts, emotions and feelings reveal, and bringing myself here in oneness and equality to this physical world, maintaining focus as myself within and as breath.

I commit myself to facing what is here,  the veil that is consciousness in and as the thoughts, emotions and feelings in and as the mind, myself a programmed organic robot of memory, my accepted and allowed pictures of separation.

I commit myself to forgive the shame I exist as as I have accepted and allowed myself to separate from myself into the illusion in and as the mind, somehow knowing I have accepted and allowed this as I walk into my past and remember events from my childhood.

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