I've just returned from my week in Spain at the meditation retreat. I didn't really know what I was getting myself into so each day was a surprise. And I must admit, a bit of a roller coaster ride which happily ended like most roller coaster rides - back to earth and calm.
For those of you who are familiar with the pendant in this photo, you know how special it is to me. I wanted to find something that I could put a little of Jean-Luc's ashes in and be able to wear it discretely around my neck. Janice found it for me in a shop on Bainbridge Island (yes the same place where Andiamo was purchased and where she returned when I sold her). It is a little perfume bottle which was actually made in France. It was perfect.
Last May, in Carcasonne, I dropped it. The neck broke cleanly and I didn't lose much of Jean-Luc's ashes. I bought some glue especially made to repair broken glass and it was as good as new.
A few weeks after I dropped it, I was in Port Vendres. There was a lovely old man who lived down the road from where I was staying. Each day, I would pass his house, smile and call out my best "Bonjour" and finally one day we had a conversation. He asked me if I had any Canadian dollars but because I had been in France for 6 months already I didn't. He told me he collected currency from around the world and he invited me in to show me his collection of bills. You can't see inside the house from the little front window because of all the sea shells in the window but nothing prepares you for what you see when you enter the house. It is the most incredible collection and display of shells and things from the sea. There are picture frames made of shells, lamps and a figure of a woman. There is a shark's jaw and the shells of sea urchins of every different colour. He is also an artist. When you enter the house the walls of the entry are covered with portraits of people that he has sketched - family, friends and neighbours. There is also a portrait that is made of a mosaic of postage stamps from all over the world. And then there is his collection of currency. My eyes darted from one place to another as I turned and turned, taking it all in. I heard a little clink and was afraid that I had knocked something over. I breathed a sigh of relief as everything seemed to be in its place. It wasn't until later that night that I discovered the little metal ring around my pendant was missing. That must have been what I heard. The next day before we left Port Vendres, I stopped in and explained the situation. We searched the floor but didn't find anything. The man asked me what was in the vessel. I smiled and told him it was some special sand. I promised him that one day I would return to Port Vendres with a Canadian 5 dollar bill for him and he gave me a beautiful purple sea urchin shell.
Just in case I ever went back to Port Vendres, I asked a friend who was coming to France if she might bring me a Canadian 5 dollar bill. As it turned out, I did return last July for a visit. I met the old man on the street and he looked at me and asked if he knew me. I replied that I had a gift from Canada for him. The most beautiful smile spread across his face as I handed him the bill. He took my arm and said that he had a gift for me as well. Moments after I left last May, he found the piece of my pendant. He put it in a jar on the cupboard just in case one day I came back.
In the last year, I've gone through phases of wearing the pendant a lot and then putting it away for a while. Lately, I've been wearing it all the time especially at the meditation retreat last week. Since the anniversary of Jean-Luc's death this year I've been feeling that maybe I'm letting go a little more but then I started wearing the pendant again. Last week's meditation retreat was a whole lot more than just sitting in silence and trying to be present. We did lots of exercises to bring out issues that we might be facing and causing us to suffer. I went through the whole range of emotions from feeling good about myself, to having huge doubts. I thought I had things figured out and then became more confused than ever. I thought I was doing well with this grief journey and then thought I would never be okay again. But for every down there was a beautiful insight. I gained a feeling of hope and even peace within myself.
I think it was the second last day, we were doing a body awareness exercise to this wonderful piece of music. When the music stopped I noticed something on the ground. I discretely went to check it out and noticed it was my pendant. My hand went to my neck and sure enough only the chain and top of the bottle were there. Jean-Luc's ashes were spilled on the ground. I stood there, looking down and waiting to see what emotions would arise. Would I burst into tears, would I be angry that this stupid exercise caused me to break my pendant? Instead, it was a similar feeling to when I watched Andiamo sail away from me with her new owner. It was a subtle letting go. Now don't get excited, I didn't throw the pendant into the Catalan countryside and feel completely liberated. I took the broken pieces and staged a photograph with some extra ashes that I just so happened to have with me and I brought the broken pendant back to Port Vendres with me. I do however feel the ropes that bind me to my grief have loosen.
I have just come back from my first yoga class here in Port Vendres. I am sitting in the dark on the patio of my little studio writing this post. I have a glass of wine and some delicious dark chocolate. There is a beautiful full moon rising. For those of you in North America you will be able to see the full eclipse of this moon tonight. The air is so still that the the Mediterranean sea looks like a mirror. If you walk to the end of my street, there is a look out to the sea. I think, tonight, I"m ready to throw this broken pendant into the sea. Don't panic, I actually do mean the pendant. It's not a metaphor for me. As for me, I think I'm ready to take another step forward.
For those of you who are familiar with the pendant in this photo, you know how special it is to me. I wanted to find something that I could put a little of Jean-Luc's ashes in and be able to wear it discretely around my neck. Janice found it for me in a shop on Bainbridge Island (yes the same place where Andiamo was purchased and where she returned when I sold her). It is a little perfume bottle which was actually made in France. It was perfect.
Last May, in Carcasonne, I dropped it. The neck broke cleanly and I didn't lose much of Jean-Luc's ashes. I bought some glue especially made to repair broken glass and it was as good as new.
A few weeks after I dropped it, I was in Port Vendres. There was a lovely old man who lived down the road from where I was staying. Each day, I would pass his house, smile and call out my best "Bonjour" and finally one day we had a conversation. He asked me if I had any Canadian dollars but because I had been in France for 6 months already I didn't. He told me he collected currency from around the world and he invited me in to show me his collection of bills. You can't see inside the house from the little front window because of all the sea shells in the window but nothing prepares you for what you see when you enter the house. It is the most incredible collection and display of shells and things from the sea. There are picture frames made of shells, lamps and a figure of a woman. There is a shark's jaw and the shells of sea urchins of every different colour. He is also an artist. When you enter the house the walls of the entry are covered with portraits of people that he has sketched - family, friends and neighbours. There is also a portrait that is made of a mosaic of postage stamps from all over the world. And then there is his collection of currency. My eyes darted from one place to another as I turned and turned, taking it all in. I heard a little clink and was afraid that I had knocked something over. I breathed a sigh of relief as everything seemed to be in its place. It wasn't until later that night that I discovered the little metal ring around my pendant was missing. That must have been what I heard. The next day before we left Port Vendres, I stopped in and explained the situation. We searched the floor but didn't find anything. The man asked me what was in the vessel. I smiled and told him it was some special sand. I promised him that one day I would return to Port Vendres with a Canadian 5 dollar bill for him and he gave me a beautiful purple sea urchin shell.
Just in case I ever went back to Port Vendres, I asked a friend who was coming to France if she might bring me a Canadian 5 dollar bill. As it turned out, I did return last July for a visit. I met the old man on the street and he looked at me and asked if he knew me. I replied that I had a gift from Canada for him. The most beautiful smile spread across his face as I handed him the bill. He took my arm and said that he had a gift for me as well. Moments after I left last May, he found the piece of my pendant. He put it in a jar on the cupboard just in case one day I came back.
In the last year, I've gone through phases of wearing the pendant a lot and then putting it away for a while. Lately, I've been wearing it all the time especially at the meditation retreat last week. Since the anniversary of Jean-Luc's death this year I've been feeling that maybe I'm letting go a little more but then I started wearing the pendant again. Last week's meditation retreat was a whole lot more than just sitting in silence and trying to be present. We did lots of exercises to bring out issues that we might be facing and causing us to suffer. I went through the whole range of emotions from feeling good about myself, to having huge doubts. I thought I had things figured out and then became more confused than ever. I thought I was doing well with this grief journey and then thought I would never be okay again. But for every down there was a beautiful insight. I gained a feeling of hope and even peace within myself.
I think it was the second last day, we were doing a body awareness exercise to this wonderful piece of music. When the music stopped I noticed something on the ground. I discretely went to check it out and noticed it was my pendant. My hand went to my neck and sure enough only the chain and top of the bottle were there. Jean-Luc's ashes were spilled on the ground. I stood there, looking down and waiting to see what emotions would arise. Would I burst into tears, would I be angry that this stupid exercise caused me to break my pendant? Instead, it was a similar feeling to when I watched Andiamo sail away from me with her new owner. It was a subtle letting go. Now don't get excited, I didn't throw the pendant into the Catalan countryside and feel completely liberated. I took the broken pieces and staged a photograph with some extra ashes that I just so happened to have with me and I brought the broken pendant back to Port Vendres with me. I do however feel the ropes that bind me to my grief have loosen.
I have just come back from my first yoga class here in Port Vendres. I am sitting in the dark on the patio of my little studio writing this post. I have a glass of wine and some delicious dark chocolate. There is a beautiful full moon rising. For those of you in North America you will be able to see the full eclipse of this moon tonight. The air is so still that the the Mediterranean sea looks like a mirror. If you walk to the end of my street, there is a look out to the sea. I think, tonight, I"m ready to throw this broken pendant into the sea. Don't panic, I actually do mean the pendant. It's not a metaphor for me. As for me, I think I'm ready to take another step forward.