Grief and The Artist's Way

I recently read Julia Cameron's memoir "floor sample".  It rocked my confidence somewhat as i had, until that point, rather idolised the woman who authored "The Artist's Way".  I had naively decided that she must be living a constantly spiritually rich, healthful, peaceful life!  What kind of idiocy is this?!  Julia Cameron is...guess what?  HUMAN...  Like me she has attended AA and picked up many gems from the group meetings and individual contacts made through this Twelve Step programme.  I found myself judging her as i read.  Oh here she goes!  Moving house again, throwing herself into a half-baked plan...  But the fact is that Julia is everywoman.  We might all make different mistakes and fall into different holes but we do all make mistakes and we do all fall into holes, whether pot-holes, rabbit-holes, or huge chasms.

So i have bought myself a new copy of "The Artist's Way" and i am going to ask a few women if they would be interested in travelling with me.  The truth is that i was immensely envious, nay! JEALOUS of the Artist's Way group that Alison developed.  It was such an important part of Alison's life which was wonderful but it was a world i wasn't part of.  This happened a lot over the years.  Alison and i were close in so many ways but there were also periods of time when we were remote from one another and there were events and situations that, for some reason or other, i withdrew, held back, ran away.  And now i'm kicking myself.  I'm wondering why i let that happen.  I know that some of this is grief but there's something else, something yet to be explored...

Grief (part of) From "God is No Laughing Matter" by Julia Cameron

To love is human, to care is human, to grieve is human. Each of us grieves at our own tempo, in our own way. There is no proper way to grieve. Some of us do it by storms of tears, some by mountains of work, some by paralysing inertia. Some flail at it like a raging river. Some cross it like a trackless waste. It can be oceanic, heaving the bereft survivor like great waves that rise, then pass. It can be fine and subtle as the late autumn air, tinged with smoke and ashes. Grief is many things, but above all it is personal. It is normal. And no matter how we do it, we do not do it wrong.

Sometimes in "spiritual" circles there is judgement concerning grief. There is a right way to grieve, a right time to grieve, a "spiritually" appropriate decorum for grief. This is nonsense, but it is pervasive and persuasive nonsense.

"Why can't I have more faith?" we demand of ourselves, as though grief were counter to faith.
"Why can't I see this as a beginning?" we badger ourselves, as though an ending weren't already a beginning.
"Maybe I should grieve longer?" we will even say as new life rushes to the fore. 

Grief is tidal. It comes upon us and subsides. Grief is mysterious, sensual and particular. ... We are intended to grieve. Grief deepens the soul. Its timing and duration are God's business, not our own. Like the hand of a great storm, a great grief leaves us shaken but washed clean.

Grief is devastating, not only because of losing what we love, but additionally because of a loss of faith that may result. ... We're angered by God's action or God's timing. We're angry at ourselves for what was left undone or unsaid and we blame God for taking away our chance to say to do it. 

Birthday Blues

Bitter-sweet and candy-free
wish list abandoned
gift-wrap shelved

But twins are never on their own
when birthdays come and go
they will forever share these days
and so will we, their friends

Bitter-sweet and candy-free
wish list checked
presents sent.

No longer will she take her seat
to celebrate and feast
we will forever set a place
and let her take her turn

Bitter-sweet and candy-free
wish list written
heart unwrapped.

(Happy) Birthday to You,
(Happy) Birthday to You,
(Happy) Birthday dear Alison,
(Happy) Birthday to You

Alison would have been 44 on Friday 11th October 2013.  Marion, her twin, had her 44th birthday.   Four years ago we were all preparing for their "80th" as they turned 40.  As the party approached Alison received her diagnosis of breast cancer.  Understandably this was to be kept quiet and the party went ahead with dancing and food and laughter.  But i was screaming inside, i found it so painful to observe (for observe was all i did other than preparing, serving and clearing away the food).  I have a few very short video clips which show Alison dancing.

How could she be gone less than 4 years later?

I don't know how and when Marion will have a happy birthday.  I don't know how, if ever, her birthday will be more celebration than sorrow.  I don't know.  I can only guess.

(Happy) Birthday to You,
(Happy) Birthday to You,
(Happy) Birthday dear Marion,
(Happy) Birthday to You