funerals

As I write this I am listening to Caroline Myss. Here is someone who speaks to my soul. I went to my second funeral of this week; a man who killed himself. Our journey into our soul comes when we recognize how frightened we are. That is the other solution. I am being driven through my fears into a deeper place. The deeper I go, the more I encounter God and the more I am thrust out into a hurting world. I am dancing along a spiral. So much for going to a funeral where no one will admit that he shot himself and missed, so the dying took a few days: the deep hurt goes unacknowledged. Where is the place for that to happen? Perhaps it isn’t the public funeral. Sometimes I think that real honesty happens through the sacrament of sharing a cup of tea.
Fields of grace in cups of tea, hugs and deep knowing