Sunday Sunday

Today is Sunday.Sunday has always been a somewhat aggravating day of the week. As a kid, I remember crying on the floor in boredom on many a Sunday. There was nothing to do. I begged my parents to call some of their friends with kids so we could go for a visit. The lack of activity or planned outings tormented me.

Sunday still remains a day of little activity for me. Now, however, I've learned to enjoy my company. I relish my days of solitude, where time to self-reflect and contemplate life seems endless. This, of course, only happens after about half an hour of fretting that I am alone, and wish I had something going on.

I enjoy a slow-paced life, as long as it's sandwiched by spurts of frenzied activity. On Sundays, time seems to creak by slower than on any other day. I can spend an hour just looking out the window.

These days much of my time spent alone is devoted to remembering, or mourning some significant losses. The tail end of 2011 brought with it the decision to end my relationship with someone very dear to me, as well as the decision to end the life of my beloved dog, Mabel.

In the past I would have tried to stay busy during a time like this. I would have made every effort to distract myself from pain. I now know a different way. I know now that the body is an expert when it comes to a great many things, including grief. I've learned that when I stop resisting the pain of loss, it creates a space for me to thank the feelings. To be thankful for having loved so much that it hurts to lose. And when I completely give myself over to the emotions, they come with a sense of renewal. They move through me, and then they release me.  I'm left feeling peaceful, hopeful, and filled with gratitude.