I haven’t had that feeling but I think my mum did during the final years of her life. Although she was taken from us suddenly last year she definitely felt the way the poem describes - she was very much in a place of gratitude and peace which comforts me as I struggle to cope with the loss of her in our lives. Thank you for sharing Susan I am grateful for you!
On Christmas Eve, I slept on a mattress pad on the hardwood floor of the "Zen Room" in my parents' home. In a December 13 years ago, my grandmother passed away in that room after her brief collision with diagnosed cancer. My dad was two weeks into at-home hospice care due to growing dementia, brain cancer, and physical frailty after a fall down the stairs just before the November presidential election. I'd been having a hard time taking deep breaths in that time period, and wasn't expecting to sleep well. This prose poem gives me the words for that night - whether it was all-things-Christmas-spirit, or my grandmother, and maybe my aunt who had also passed away a few Decembers ago - the lightness - both visually and in my breathing - came upon me a few times that night. Can light and dream-like experiences come in waves? Was something else happening? I don't know the answer, and I know I received a wonderful gift. And while the need to focus on dropping deeply into breathing is still present, so is the memory of that lightness. I feel I am learning a new yin & yang of deep & light.
Yesterday was my mother's 89th birthday. We sat on a bench in a forest, in dappled light, listening to birds and the wind. 'Do you think we've died?' I asked her. 'Do you think this may be heaven?'
'I hope so!' she said cheerfully.
How far away all the worried machinations of the world seem from that little bench, where for those few moments perfect peace felt like a simple thing.
Listening to music is one of my greatest joys. Hearing the Star-Spangled Banner being played in a stadium or from a marching band, I have to hold back my tears. Something deep in my soul gets fed.
How I would love to have an experience like this. It would change my life profoundly for the better to stop evaluating my life, my decisions, my behavior. It sounds like it could bring permanent peace and perhaps allow for self love...
Nothing quite as dramatic, but just as significant. As I lay in bed in my 20s, I came to the stark realization that I would someday die. At that moment I simply said, "Jesus, You're the only One Who can handle this." After releasing my life to Him, I was overwhelmed with a peace I had never before experienced.
I have never experienced this type of feeling, but I do derive great peace in reading this poem. I have always thought that there must be a mechanism within our minds that allows us to calmly let go of past and current fears, disappointments, and doubts when we are near death. Even while/if we are healthy and young, we would do well to remind ourselves to "stop worrying" and pay attention to the life in front of u. By the way, I love all the beautiful illustrations you share.
The part I take issue with, a little, is the sense of "everything happening for a reason". I appreciate that I'm the one interpreting it like that - perhaps it wasn't meant that way. But that notion sticks in my craw. How can we think that when there is such suffering in the world?
Otherwise, I take comfort from it. I like the idea of closing accounts and not having to actively worry about the past any time.
I have had two experiences much like this. The first was a few months after my father died. I was awake but felt I was dreaming. I was lying in my bed but saw myself standing over my bed and rather than seeing myself I saw my father sleeping peacefully where I actually was. My father’s life was not an easy one and seeing him at peace released me into a moment of pure exhilaration.
The second time, my first born was seven months old. I was holding g her in my arms. We were sitting in a beautiful glass room at my mother in laws house. In spite of the looming distress and uncertainty of needing to return to work, I experienced a deep sense of complete and utter joy.
Oh, that is beautiful and uplifting. I will carry these thoughts to my dying day. What a wonderful expression of how to let go of any part of our past that haunts us and to embrace that we have done our best and can forgive ourselves. Because isn't forgiveness so powerful? Why reserve it just for others and not ourselves?
Usually upon waking in 2 general themes… When I wake up on a day that is all mine - to do what I please, what I choose. When I wake up on a day after a lot of hard work in caring for others & knowing they are comforted & happy… Freedom and connection.
Breath out water ,Soul long to breathe aging,aging and aging,That moment which the visceral kisses the Soul bringing it to wake... Transcendence of letting go but not forgotten for the trees hold so many stories but keep on growing... Laying in a warm cozy place with the light off, single candle flame flickering listening to music that gives you those Soul Chills floating your body away into the depths of visceral ecstasy...
There have been moments in my life (blessed that there's been more than one) that I've felt inexplicable peace, joy...serenity. In my faith, I credit this to God's grace and oh, how kind He's been to me. When these moments, however, fleeting they might be, come my way, I sit there for a little while. I don't ask 'why, what, or how'. I just sit there, grateful that such peace actually exists in the midst of so much chaos. I sit there, grateful, simply because I have known a lot of days and years, in which none of it existed. It might have even passed me by in all the darkness and ugliness around me, I might have noticed it. So I sit there, grateful, because at least I know now that even when it passes, I have hope in crossing paths with it again. It exists. It's enough. It's...grace.
This brought tears to my eyes…And I was sad when I finished reading it, scrolling down in hopes that it would continue! I strive to feel this way but never fully achieve it. I have learned that things have a way of working out if we accept and allow them to evolve in their own time and way. Daily gratitude and meditation helps keep this feeling alive. Thank you for sharing 💓🕊️
I love this poem. I have experienced suggestions of that feeling, usually in the midst of a time of healing, but it has never stayed long enough for me to befriend it. But I guess maybe that’s the essence of it - it’s not meant to be grasped in any way, just quietly and gratefully acknowledged.
I haven’t had that feeling but I think my mum did during the final years of her life. Although she was taken from us suddenly last year she definitely felt the way the poem describes - she was very much in a place of gratitude and peace which comforts me as I struggle to cope with the loss of her in our lives. Thank you for sharing Susan I am grateful for you!
On Christmas Eve, I slept on a mattress pad on the hardwood floor of the "Zen Room" in my parents' home. In a December 13 years ago, my grandmother passed away in that room after her brief collision with diagnosed cancer. My dad was two weeks into at-home hospice care due to growing dementia, brain cancer, and physical frailty after a fall down the stairs just before the November presidential election. I'd been having a hard time taking deep breaths in that time period, and wasn't expecting to sleep well. This prose poem gives me the words for that night - whether it was all-things-Christmas-spirit, or my grandmother, and maybe my aunt who had also passed away a few Decembers ago - the lightness - both visually and in my breathing - came upon me a few times that night. Can light and dream-like experiences come in waves? Was something else happening? I don't know the answer, and I know I received a wonderful gift. And while the need to focus on dropping deeply into breathing is still present, so is the memory of that lightness. I feel I am learning a new yin & yang of deep & light.
Yesterday was my mother's 89th birthday. We sat on a bench in a forest, in dappled light, listening to birds and the wind. 'Do you think we've died?' I asked her. 'Do you think this may be heaven?'
'I hope so!' she said cheerfully.
How far away all the worried machinations of the world seem from that little bench, where for those few moments perfect peace felt like a simple thing.
Listening to music is one of my greatest joys. Hearing the Star-Spangled Banner being played in a stadium or from a marching band, I have to hold back my tears. Something deep in my soul gets fed.
How I would love to have an experience like this. It would change my life profoundly for the better to stop evaluating my life, my decisions, my behavior. It sounds like it could bring permanent peace and perhaps allow for self love...
Nothing quite as dramatic, but just as significant. As I lay in bed in my 20s, I came to the stark realization that I would someday die. At that moment I simply said, "Jesus, You're the only One Who can handle this." After releasing my life to Him, I was overwhelmed with a peace I had never before experienced.
I have never experienced this type of feeling, but I do derive great peace in reading this poem. I have always thought that there must be a mechanism within our minds that allows us to calmly let go of past and current fears, disappointments, and doubts when we are near death. Even while/if we are healthy and young, we would do well to remind ourselves to "stop worrying" and pay attention to the life in front of u. By the way, I love all the beautiful illustrations you share.
I love it.
The part I take issue with, a little, is the sense of "everything happening for a reason". I appreciate that I'm the one interpreting it like that - perhaps it wasn't meant that way. But that notion sticks in my craw. How can we think that when there is such suffering in the world?
Otherwise, I take comfort from it. I like the idea of closing accounts and not having to actively worry about the past any time.
I know what you mean, Poppy.
Milosz was so aware of (and had directly experienced) worldly suffering, that I believe he took this into account within his words - but, yes.
I have had two experiences much like this. The first was a few months after my father died. I was awake but felt I was dreaming. I was lying in my bed but saw myself standing over my bed and rather than seeing myself I saw my father sleeping peacefully where I actually was. My father’s life was not an easy one and seeing him at peace released me into a moment of pure exhilaration.
The second time, my first born was seven months old. I was holding g her in my arms. We were sitting in a beautiful glass room at my mother in laws house. In spite of the looming distress and uncertainty of needing to return to work, I experienced a deep sense of complete and utter joy.
Oh, that is beautiful and uplifting. I will carry these thoughts to my dying day. What a wonderful expression of how to let go of any part of our past that haunts us and to embrace that we have done our best and can forgive ourselves. Because isn't forgiveness so powerful? Why reserve it just for others and not ourselves?
Usually upon waking in 2 general themes… When I wake up on a day that is all mine - to do what I please, what I choose. When I wake up on a day after a lot of hard work in caring for others & knowing they are comforted & happy… Freedom and connection.
Breath out water ,Soul long to breathe aging,aging and aging,That moment which the visceral kisses the Soul bringing it to wake... Transcendence of letting go but not forgotten for the trees hold so many stories but keep on growing... Laying in a warm cozy place with the light off, single candle flame flickering listening to music that gives you those Soul Chills floating your body away into the depths of visceral ecstasy...
"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
John 14:27 (The words of Jesus confirmed in my life.)
There have been moments in my life (blessed that there's been more than one) that I've felt inexplicable peace, joy...serenity. In my faith, I credit this to God's grace and oh, how kind He's been to me. When these moments, however, fleeting they might be, come my way, I sit there for a little while. I don't ask 'why, what, or how'. I just sit there, grateful that such peace actually exists in the midst of so much chaos. I sit there, grateful, simply because I have known a lot of days and years, in which none of it existed. It might have even passed me by in all the darkness and ugliness around me, I might have noticed it. So I sit there, grateful, because at least I know now that even when it passes, I have hope in crossing paths with it again. It exists. It's enough. It's...grace.
This brought tears to my eyes…And I was sad when I finished reading it, scrolling down in hopes that it would continue! I strive to feel this way but never fully achieve it. I have learned that things have a way of working out if we accept and allow them to evolve in their own time and way. Daily gratitude and meditation helps keep this feeling alive. Thank you for sharing 💓🕊️
I love this poem. I have experienced suggestions of that feeling, usually in the midst of a time of healing, but it has never stayed long enough for me to befriend it. But I guess maybe that’s the essence of it - it’s not meant to be grasped in any way, just quietly and gratefully acknowledged.