I started my morning with an outstandingly soothing live meditation with a sweet older woman. She invited us to write the name of our deceased loved ones and she spoke each name aloud, including R's name. She lit a candle for us and led us through a metaphorical nature meditation about being warmly dressed but feeling the frost on our faces on a walk in the snow, and then another in a desert which at first seems barren yet is full of unique life forms. I meditated on my soft rug under a big blanket, resting on a pillow with the morning light shining on me.
Afterward she gently talked about how we can acknowledge grief and also be ALIVE, and talked us through other relevant things that come up with loss, such as when people (well-intentioned or not) can be dismissive or unhelpful when we're grieving, and ways to navigate that. She had a really healthy outlook and warm loving energy about her, and reminded me of the kind and patient elders I grew up around (and really long for these days.)
I was invited to another big concert next month, the same event and venue I performed at a decade or so ago. I don't know whether I want to go masked or stay home. It's not anyone's birthday, but if I want to see lots of familiar faces and dance with friends, that would be the ideal time and place for that. I can certainly go alone on a whim and find my people there. But it will be crowded and I don't get as excited about shows as I used to. I went to so many shows in all the years before pandemic that I feel fulfilled already. Although I don't mind attending periodically to show up in my community, or whatever. I'll see how I feel about it later. They happen four times a year and there's always the weekly shows I can drop into any time. It's no pressure. If I miss this one, there's always another one. I guess it'd be an excuse to wear my new clothes and try my new makeup. It's something to do.
I just hope it doesn't have a funeral vibe, like the last time I tried to attend a "party." I was looking forward to one evening of joyful respite from grief, but so many people did not leave their grief at home. I wanted to take the mic and be like YO this is C's birthday, not a fucking funeral. Tonight isn't about your pain! It's a celebration for C! Snap out of it! You can all make those sad faces when you go back home, but just for tonight, this is a party, so act like it! We're not dead yet! Let's make the most of the moment! Let's act the way we want to feel!
After that event I thought maybe I was just not perceiving the situation with enough compassion for those who aren't as good at putting on a happy face when they're suffering inside. I'm really skilled at that from years of practice! But I must remember that we're all different and to hold space for the myriad of ways others might experience grief. I experience emotions inwardly, but others have a more outward approach. It may not be my style, but that doesn't make it wrong. It's been a heavy few years for many, and I should tread gently around that. Perhaps my old habit of pretending everything's fine in order to make others feel comfortable is an outdated way of being for these times. Maybe it's time I worry less about how everyone else feels in social situations. Or even just avoid the negative energy altogether and stay home. I don't know what is best. There are no rules. I'm making them up as I go.
10:18 a.m. - 2023-01-25