Griever’s lullaby

I lay in bed, eyes closed and covered, total blackness, breathing slowly, wanting to go inside my thoughts. I place the rainfall in my ears and turn it up. It’s a hard rainfall.

Ok. Deep breath and in I go.

At some point, about a minute in, I notice my hands are out in front of me, floating; I didn’t notice them getting there, but the feeling of them brushing together catches my attention. They’re slowly waving, moving about, attempting some task maybe, maybe not, unknown.  It’s not voluntary, this almost-dance, it’s effortless.

How did I get here?

Go back to the beginning. Walk yourself back to this moment, Hans. Go back in. Talk it through:

(Breathe)

How do I get there?  Your eyes are still closed. Hands back down now, crossed over your heart. Listen to the rainfall, rainfall that will never end. Breathe.

Let go.

Fall. just fall…as far into yourself as you can fall, Hans, keep falling, and breathing, and listening to the rainfall and keep falling, inward. You don’t have to remind yourself why, you already know, just let go, you already know why, you were born with this knowledge, and besides, it is the very best place in all the world to fall, you’re going to fall deep inside your own heart.

Look at that!

It’s much larger in here than I thought it’d be, it’s boundless, it’s wonderful! Why do I feel so smart all of a sudden? I should visit this place more often. I think it’s where all the answers are! If this is me, I might just be amazing! Yeah, wow…it’s hard to get here though, you know? The world is so loud, you forget this place is even here it’s so damn loud out there. Whatever, it’s good to visit now.

Shush, you’re wandering. Stay in.

Breathe.

Is she here? Hey, is Stella here? Please be here, Stella!

Now I know why I came here, of course, I was looking for Stella!  Well that was obvious.

Ok, ok, settle, settle, don’t rush. This is not meant to be heavy lifting, it’s just heavy falling.  She’s here, she’s somewhere down in here, let go and fall and you’ll find her.

Breathe. You have all the time in the world, you feel every second like a day.

Hmmmmm, this place is enormous…don’t get lost. Touch your chest, tell yourself you’re real, ‘hello self, hi Hans.’

Yes, its me.

Heh…you make yourself smile.

It’s funny, huh? Don’t deny it, you’re a bit odd, Hans, objectively unusual, you’re straight up talking too yourself about yourself inside yourself.

You two are both … a bit odd, Hans and Stella, so alike, no denying…you are two odd peas in a pod.

See that face she used to make? That’s her all over ... oh that image was so clear, and so fleeting. I want it back.

Let it go, it’s not for keeping … those are images of photographs, and if not…if not…I think still not for you, Hans, not today.

This is hard…

(Big Breathe)

What is that?… what are these breaths you’re taking, what are they for? There’s a gust at the end.

-Clearing the pain, yes, I’m clearing out the pain pipes, so much pain, but what else?

I’m doing a thing. My breaths, they’re not just clearing pain, they’re meant …I’m pulling her toward me.

Let go Hans. That’s not the way. That’s not the way.  There’s no action to take. Breathe for yourself, buddy, breathe and fall.

(Breathe) Fall.

Owe. Oh this hurts.

Ok, name this feeling, it’s always here but it’s off to the right and out of focus, it hurts, deep pain … but follow it; it’s not sweet pain, it’s dull, long, hard to name:

Deeeep breath.

Loss.

I lost her, forever, she’s gone, she’s gone … she’s long long gone.

Right….but… wait. How lost, how gone…what do you mean?

The person, of course, I lost the person, Stella Blue, she’s gone forever from this earth!

But Hans, what are these parts of a person that they can be lost?

Someone to touch and see and love, of course! Lost. Gone!

Really, Hans? Is that a person? Only to touch and feel and see? Is Stella then not a person anymore?

Oh,

no,

she is most definitely a person.

Oh Stella, you are very much a person to me.

But what is this? How do I describe this feeling of her now, not here in this room?

Hey, look at that, my hands are floating up, above me again. Why? What am I reaching for?

Stella? No, no, it’s not reaching, I’m just …I’m. Oh I see…I’m falling…I’m falling…and when you fall, your hands come behind you, like the tail of a slow motion kite, a steadier, a sign of great momentum.

They float above my head as I fall.

She did this Hans, remember? near the end. Her hands floated up, light as wings on the wind.

What did her hands see out there? What do I see, now? It feels good whatever it is, but not what I expected. I see feelings, maybe I’m washing the air, something unfamiliar, is that a veil I’m brushing? This gesture, truest true, is a knot untied, a feeling loosed…hmmm, I really did not see this coming.

Stella, did you see that too? Oh I wonder what you saw, God damn I wonder what you saw in that bed, alone, and also buttressed by your parents.  How far away were we? How far away were you?

Were you untying your fear? Were you weaving your wings for the flight home? What were you doing, Stella? I want to know. I know, it’s not for me to know. Right. But, maybe … stop, go inward, Hans. Fall.

Breathe, Hans. It’s all right here, trust.

(Beat your breast, three times slowly)

It’s only here, Hans. Right here. Ok?

Hans, it’s right here. You are everything you need. She’s right here, just fall.

Say it. Say it clearly: There is no touch of Stella for you, Hans; there is no smell of Stella Blue, there is no seeing her, Hans, there is no seeing her, anymore.

Ok. Ok.

But there is the endless, sweet falling, and you know how to find this place, in motion inside yourself, moving through the endless loss and you know why your hands do what your hands do so forget them.

Fall, just fall, as deep into yourself as you can, Hans, fall with Stella. She’s there falling with you all the way home.

Painting by Barbi Beckett of photo by Peter Dylan O’Connor when Stella was 3ish.