Doing what I avoided

I did something yesterday I've been avoiding for several weeks. It wasn't dangerous, or even all that big a deal. It's just something I've hesitated to do, ever since the flat brown envelope arrived in mid November.

Inside that envelope was a DVD. And on that DVD is a documentary. A documentary about the story told in my book, The Dandelion Spirit.

It has played on the VIVA station several times now since October. And each time, I've managed to be busy, or simply to forget it was on.

Friends asked, "Have you seen it? I did." And inevitably they'd add, "It's really good."

Several of my co-workers saw it. "I wanted to kill the guy," one woman commented.

Another, a male, told me, "You inspire me. Your courage is amazing."

And still, I couldn't watch the video.

Until yesterday afternoon. Until the house was quiet. C.C. was out playing tennis. The girls busy and I had run out of excuses to not watch it.

And so, I did.

It wasn't bad.

Pretty good, actually.

Though it was, at moments, hard to watch. Not because I am tied to the pain of him. I'm not. Filming that documentary really showed me that. About him I have little if no emotion. He was. He is no longer in my life, my heart, my mind. I can speak of those times without connecting to the pain. I can speak of those times in the context of inspiring, helping, guiding, others to move through the pain of loving someone who drives you crazy, or drives you to the brink of wanting to die.

I can speak of those times and know, in speaking of them I am living on purpose, touching hearts and opening minds to set spirits free to dance in a world of love, joy and harmony.

In watching the documentary, however, it is the pain I caused in the hearts and minds and bodies of those I love that triggered my sorrow.

And sorrow is good. Sorrow lets me move into joy. Sorrow washes me free of clinging memories that will not lie quietly in the past.

I watched the documentary and sat in the feelings that arose. I let them move in and around and about me. I let them flow.

And know, it is good. Doing it. Putting it out there. Letting it have its own life. In the telling, other's may see or hear or feel something that will set them free too.

And that is good.

I watched a documentary yesterday that was about me. I watched me speak. Watched me walk. Watched me talk about a time when my life narrowed into a deep dark hallway of despair. I watched and knew -- it is good. All is good.

I am ok.

I am free.

What a gift my freedom is.

What a blessing those dark days were in creating the light and joy in my life today.

Nameste.

PS -- I am in Canmore for a few days. Hadn't expected to have Internet. Brought my computer so I could write. And, voila! I am -- and I'm also online. How cool is that! Outside, the temperature has plummeted into sub-zero climes. Snow falls. Trees climb the mountainside outside the picture window, silent sentinels in a grey world. Inside, the fire burns. Yo-yo Ma plays cello. C.C. is chatting with the couple we're sharing this time with and I am content. All is well in my world. All is well in my life. All is well in my heart.