Not the Weekend That I Had Planned ...

I really needed this weekend. It is not the weekend that I planned. But it is the weekend that I needed it to be.

Who knew that I would find insightful thoughts and a meaningful 'conversation' with a friend who just passed away ... by cleaning the oven?

These words led me to sending off an email to a group of friends. I haven't had the words, the depth or the clarity to send a coherent set of paragraphs to this group in longer than I can remember. I felt as if I had dried up inside and I couldn't find my set of water colors to paint the picture that wasn't inside of me in the first place. I felt peaceful and energized after I wrote the words that were at my fingertips yesterday morning.

One email begat another. And another. And another. One friend directed me towards checking out "Anita Moorjani". She is an cancer survivor that had a near death experience. I didn't know what I would find but I had the time to check it out. So I did (here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvmABrII35c&noredirect=1 ).

This video is over an hour and a half long. What impacted me most is what Anita said within the first half hour (perhaps sooner). She described what she saw, heard, felt and experienced while she was in a coma. I believe that everyone could interpret her words differently but for me her words hit a powerful cord within me. Because I have had several incidents when I truly felt the presence of someone who had passed away. I have had many times in my life where I simply felt 'guided' to make the best decision for me. I do not feel alone in this world. Ever.

This weekend was to have been spent immersed in my dad's family's book. But it wasn't.

After listening to Anita Moorjani's talk yesterday morning I began to understand why it is of such importance to me to tell our family's story with compassion, gentleness and understanding of the people that I am writing about. It explains why I feel so incredibly connected to people that I never knew (my great grandparents) or didn't know well (my grandparents). I understand why it has been so very important to me to tell the stories of those who can't tell the story themselves. I truly believe that I have felt the essence of these characters in our story as I have struggled with the words to tell their story with truth and compassion.

I am beginning to understand part of the reason that I have been unable to put this story together and finish the job that I started. Because it is sacred work. I am only a small bit terrified at wrapping this up and printing it off because once it is out there I will not be able to take it back.

It explains why I feel the need to close myself off from the world and tune everyone out while I work on this. Because I need to feel that presence, the guidance and do my best to seek understanding behind the actions, reactions and stories that I have been told.

This explains so much. So very much ...

Perhaps with that knowledge in my back pocket I can go back and tackle this project. When I get stuck, I may just have to ask for assistance in a non-physical sense. Some how, in some way I feel that my fingers will be guided to tell the story the best I can tell it ... if I simply ask for help along the way.

The weekend has been full of insightful, meaningful moments in the quiet moments of cleaning the kitchen. Have I not heard it said that the kitchen is the heart of a home? I have been avoiding our kitchen like the plague lately. I have found more than dirt, grime and dust in the nooks and crannies of that space. I believe that I found a piece of myself as well.

Who knew that I would find what I was looking for in our kitchen? That is the last place that I would have thought to look!