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  • Writer's pictureRaina Irene

Processing

Processing.

It seems that everything is about processing now. I am in this place of looking at everything from a perspective I had been trying to attain and now I am here.

It took me by surprise. Suddenly there was something different happening inside my mind and my body. My spiritual vision seems much clearer.

I can see the flow of what’s happening and not get so caught up in it emotionally.

I can think straight. I can process the information in a way that’s clear and productive.

Is this what it means to be older and wiser?

The part where all the pain and disappointments, all the “suffering” mixed with all the love and goodness come into balance and you sit at the seat of who you have become?

I sigh an exhale of relief. I made it filters through me knowing that I still have a long way to go.

But it feels good to allow the process to occur as it should and not wrestle it to the ground on its way to being what it was going to be anyway.

If I have learned anything in these 64 years, I have learned how completely powerless I am over so many things, except…

My response to it.

I never understood why my mom felt so free to do what she wanted.

I mean of course she should, yet I remember one year she wanted to skip Thanksgiving (the most important holiday of the year, according to my dad, who had been long gone to spirit by then).

How did she think we would be okay with that.

My sister and I kind of had a mini fit, assuming she didn’t want to be with us.

Yet that had nothing to do with it.

Of course, she wanted to be with us, but there was this thing she wanted to do, and it happen to fall on Thanksgiving that year and she wanted to go.

This was her time to do what she wanted.

I skeptically understood, but today, I totally understand.

One thing has nothing to do with the other.

She had so many days left in her life, she had raised her child, two had gone to spirit, her husband of 51 years was also in spirit and her living daughters were fine.

She needed to do for herself.

She had learned the art of processing, letting go of control, and allowing herself the freedom to thrive.

Still my wise teacher.

I am getting there, Mom.

Thank you!



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