Opening the door - to the dark and to the light

I love the word meander: to follow a winding course or a journey that is circuitous in nature. Our society often tends to be so linear, but to go with life's twists and turns can certainly provide a whole different perspective. A river meanders as it erodes the banks that hold it in or when there is an obstacle that gets in the way, and eventually the flow does find a way. That image appears often in the poetry that I plan to share through this blog. I learned to set aside my linear mind and to follow the meanderings that my heart knew I needed to explore.
AND I am so excited. Excited you say? Isn't this a blog that is mostly about grieving? Didn't she use the word sorrow in her heading? YES - to all of those questions. I am excited because I feel that I have found a way to share something quite wonderful that happened to me as I have walked down the road of bereavement - the poetic voice that demanded to be heard and has resulted in the writing of over 170 poems over the past 4 and 1/2 years.
I really didn't want to go down that road so much, but I had to. My husband Barry, my soulmate of 27 years, died very suddenly one beautiful spring day 8 and 1/2 years ago. It took a while, but eventually I found my way to some productive ways to work through my grief. I can honestly say right now that I feel so very fortunate - for having had the wonderful years I did with him, for having had two incredible children with him who are now young adults, and for all the amazing things I have learned as a result of dealing with his physical loss.
Shortly after Barry died I was walking one day and I suddenly realized what the term 'broken heart' meant. It just physically hurt so very much, like a dagger was piercing my heart area. That was a precursor to my learning to listen to my body and that knowledge came from one of the ways I discovered to deal with my grief - polarity therapy. For more information about this particular type of energy work please see the following website: www.polaritytherapy.org
Through a mutual friend I started having polarity treatments with a woman named Katharina Burdet, a full 3 and 1/2 years after Barry's death. I really did not know what to expect, but the friend who recommended that I try polarity was someone I trusted. Katharina was in the second phase of her polarity training and also had experience in the area of bereavement. And so we began a wonderful journey together. One of the things that happened was that I tended to do a sort of journaling after a treatment. I, being a teacher by trade, naturally wanted to share what my thoughts and feelings were as all these new learnings unfolded. As time went on, though, my writing started to change and it was as if a door opened that provided for a whole new way of expression for me. One day early on I asked Katharina, "What is polarity anyway?" Then I quickly said, "Never mind, I think I know." As soon as I got home I wrote the following piece, which I later realized did have a poetic sort of bent.

What is Polarity?

A journey to within and without,
to that deep place where healing and hurt can coexist
and be a powerful mix to find a truer path.
A sense of being an integral part of the outer world,
a reconnection to a love that was thought to be lost
but has become embedded in the evolution of a new me.
A time to reflect and deeply understand the impact
of all that has been.
A chance to relax, renew, and find inner peace.
A way the body and mind discover positive pathways
to a future that is yet to be lived.

Sarah Carlson

March 2006

The picture above this post is one that I took yesterday and really shows what polarity helped me see in many ways - the dark is there, but can be quite beautiful. Without the dark, the colors of light would not be as splendid or noticeable. There is so much more to say... but I will leave it there for now.
For the record, though, most times I will not be writing as much prose. My real goal is to get my poetry out there and available in the hopes that it can help anyone who has experienced a loss.