Last December, the farm in Florida where I had lived for five years, beginning in 1997, and then for lesser amounts of time when returning from India was sold. I pushed away the grief of the loss, as I understood and supported the owner’s choice to sell it. However, out of sight, behind my outer acceptance, at a low level and without a rational foundation, was my thought that I was homeless, even though I had a home here in India.
My former experiences with grief had primarily ended by my mid-forties, due first to my joining self-help groups then afterwards a spiritual study course. Later I would learn of the Five Stages of Grief defined by the well-known Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, stages that I recognized from my experiences.* My mid-forties were watershed years in my personal growth, when I went from being controlled by my emotions to my beginning to take control of them.
And so, this past April, when it finally felt safe for my grief to fully emerge, I used my own simple method of recognition, acceptance, and attentive inward listening until I reached an outer affirmation of the truth—I would be fine. To assure this, I drew from inspiration, thought, determination, feelings, and creativity to plan events that, to my relief, actually happened.
By the time I left India, I had arranged to change my legal address to a different address in Florida and had made a plan to take my car to Georgia where it would be stored. While driving there, to my surprise, I had experienced an epiphany. As I approached the Welcome sign to this new state, I heard my own voice say aloud, “I’ve come home.” Its softness along with a sudden feeling of deep release was followed by contentment radiating out of me like a lamp’s soft glow. From first having passed a tidal creek of the Atlantic, widely bordered by far-reaching grass, each repetition of this view further swelled the love now taking me over until I thought that I could not be happier. This was the kind of place I had always wanted to live. On a beach, I looked with joy at my bare feet that wore sparkles of sand. The beach stretched off into the distance, and although I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, I rambunctiously dove into the swelling waves—riding them with the taste of salt filling my mouth.
My realization is, “When unconscious grief finally reveals itself, courage and an open mind to inspiration may unsuspectingly reawaken a longing, deeply stored, that is now attainable, bringing with it new happiness.”
* Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, The Five Stages of Grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_K%C3%BCbler-Ross