Ashes and Roses
This year, unusually, Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday have fallen on the same day. Interesting juxtaposition. Whatever you think of Valentine’s day, overblown sentimentality and gross consumerism or a beautiful opportunity to express love, it’s difficult here in the UK to escape the hearts and roses which have been adorning the shop windows. Until recently I hadn’t understood the significance of the Ash in Ash Wednesday. I had simply thought of it as the day following pancake day, the day when the fat of the pantry is used up in readiness for the more frugal 40 days of Lent. Now I understand that, following being ‘shriven’ (purified of sin) on the Tuesday, on the Wednesday, ash, in the sign of the cross, is placed on the forehead with the words: “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return”.
Love and Grief
So here we have it: the celebration of love and the remembering of death. How apt, in a way. Live and die. Love and grieve. How many times have I written in these blogs: love and grief are bedfellows? So, I’ve got to thinking, asking myself questions and this blog is an exploration of my musings. I am interested in what you think too – do comment on this blog post or write to me here.
Is it foolish to love deeply knowing that the consequence is deep grief? No, I think it is courageous. I remember a passage from Kahlil Gibran’s ‘The Prophet’ where he talks about love:
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s pleasure Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep but not all of your tears. Humanity and Divinity
I submit to being on the threshing floor of life. This heart is exquisitely beautiful, the dwelling place of love, of compassion, kindness, peace, joy, freedom. It is, I think, the place where humanity and divinity are inseparable. Holy longing. I long for my heart to overflow with the plenty of its nature. I know what it is to love and be loved and not be able to tell the difference; when the giving is the receiving and the receiving is the giving and there is no time and no distance between the two.
Giving and Receiving
So often though, I think we have a problem with receiving in our culture. We feel vulnerable and vulnerability has a bad press. I remember Bill – a little bitter, a little twisted, disappointed by life, by marriage, stuck in his teenage experiences of the war. In his heart though, he wanted to be generous, I think he wanted to love. To give to him was difficult, it made him feel obliged, indebted. I gave him care and attention and he gave me glass tumblers, just so that he felt there was a fair exchange. Would he have been comfortable with me giving him the gift of song at his funeral? Doubtful. What is this feeling of being obligated about: that if we are in want or in need and another fulfils it, they then have power and a hold on us?
I think that giving too can evoke vulnerability – what if ones’s giving is not received? And how much more subtle is this giving and receiving dynamic in relationship? My ex-husband made a big thing of Valentine’s day but he was much put out if I didn’t do the same. The balance of gifting had to be equal – somehow in his mind that maintained the status quo of vulnerability and power. I think vulnerability, in its place, is the portal to intimacy. To love another, to really love, is to see them beyond their image, their best behaviour and the flowers they give you. To be seen is to be vulnerable. Without seeing and being seen and without trusting the other not to misuse that, there can be no intimacy. Without intimacy we never allow ourselves to know all of our laughter or all of our tears.
Power and gentleness
I doubt there is one person reading this who hasn’t been hurt. There is a difference of course between our ego, desire or pride being wounded and our hearts aching with grief. The former, with some honest self-reflection and a little humour, we can get over. The latter…well that’s what these blogs are about. The key for me lies in the nature of love itself: for all its power it is gentle, for all its generosity it is patient, and for all its innocence it is wise. There is no rush, no rules for when our tender hearts, battered and bruised, should begin to open again. We may choose to rest in the twilight for a long time, wrapped in fur blankets and keeping the world at bay. Good. Gently, patiently does it. And gradually we can allow the soft flow of life, of love to soothe us once again. Marvelling at the brave, bright yellow daffodils shining against the sodden earth, even knowing that before long they will be withered. Holding the hand of a chubby baby, a baby for so short a time. But to stay encased behind a spikey ten foot wall, unwilling to risk hurt, is to stay hurt.
So I risk suffering, to love Life, I risk putting my head above the parapet and being seen, deeply seen. Because I want to live all of my life and laugh all of my laughter. There will be tears and ultimately there will be ashes but my heart will know itself in all its humanity and divinity. And that is my desire.
With love
Nickie
NEWS
So my personal big news is that my application to become a community interest company has been approved! I am now officially a social enterprise- Nickie Aven CIC – which means I can now apply for grant funding for my work with dying and grieving. Hurrah hurrah!
I look forward to being able to offer in person and online grief support groups and networks. Just give me a wee bit to see where I can rustle up some funding!
SUBSCRIBING: IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY DONE SO, PLEASE CONSIDER SUBSCRIBING TO THIS BLOG. IT IS OFFERED TOTALLY FREE OF CHARGE. CLICK THE SUBSCRIBE BUTTON AND IT WILL SUBSCRIBE YOU VIA SUBSTACK MY ONLINE PLATFORM (I am sorry I cannot turn off the ‘pledge’ button).