So I said Goodbye (temporarily) to Mom Today.

An opportunity to sit, cry, grieve, and yearn for a sweeter world.

“So, I’ll see you next spring.” The words tugged at my belly as if it was new information, as if I had not known the whole morning as we soaked, ate, and she packed up all the frozen food from their fridge to give to me that she was leaving tomorrow.  

And—like a child—as soon as she was out of sight, I burst into tears. 

It’s probably not just mom going back to the desolate wasteland that is the section of Texas that she and her husband live in; it’s probably a bunch of things.

The world feels wrong right now.

Have you heard of the Mandela effect? It’s this idea that we have slipped timelines; people remember details from another one that are simply no longer accurate for this one, like Nelson Mandela dying in jail, or this wild movie starring Sinbad, “Shazam”, that apparently does not actually exist. That is how life feels to me right now, like I slipped into the wrong timeline. Things feel hard. I had this conversation with my yummy, chocolate-man roommate this morning. He confessed to me that October is usually a shit month for him—physically, spiritually, emotionally, financially… all the things. I don’t usually feel that way about this month and this is my absolute favorite time of year, but this year it feels hard, and last year was harder due to some deeply disturbing events that unfolded in my family. 

This year, with all that is going on in the world at large, it feels as if we all have slipped into some kind or horrific alternate reality. 

In the reality I am supposed to be in there is a man, dogs, darkening evenings spent by a fire, and weekends spent with his children. All the projects that I intended to get done around my house before winter settles in are complete. My daughter is not stressed by circumstances with her daughter. And there is a prevailing sense of peace dropping over society as we slowly sink towards winter.

That is not the case.

The other day, when I picked mom up to go to the hot springs, I was listening to the radio on the recent goings on between Israel, Palestine, Iran, and the Hamas horrors. As she climbed into my silver Subaru,  autumn rain splattering the pavement where I’d parked, I said, “I hope you don’t mind listening to this (gestures at car stereo with Jersey guy babbling away through the speakers), I want to be able to tell my granddaughters, our granddaughters, how WWIII started. 

Le sigh… but I am serious.

There is an unsettling darkness creeping over the world right now, and it is heavy, sinister, and divisive. What can we do? Stay present. Be gentle. Be attentive. Don’t be pulled into drama. This matters.

My personal woes in no way compare to what is going on in other parts of the world. I’m saying farewell to my mom for a season—I didn’t just watch her murdered before me. I refuse to watch any videos of what has happened during these recent tragedies, but I’ve been reading, and the ‘disturbance in the force’ is so great, I think I might know even if I wasn’t conscientiously paying attention. 

I read on Naomi Wolf’s Substack: “Please Calm Down”.

“Images of savagery, especially against the innocent — especially against women and children and the elderly — hijack our brain’s processing.”

Not only do those images hijack our processing, but they don’t actually activate any empathy, either, as that part of the brain, when hijacked, doesn’t prioritize empathy. Those are ‘fight or flight’ feelings that get activated. They are survival based reactions. And aside from these images polarizing people, they tend to inhibit grief—not facilitate it. So I wasn’t looking before, I won’t now and you don’t have to either to know what is going on, or to cultivate compassion for those who are suffering.

There is much to grieve regardless of who you think is wrong or right. Suffering deserves embodied compassion and genuine prayers—heartfelt prayers that tear the grief from your body and empty you out. Prayers for all you have lost, for all that has been lost, and the utter unfairness and injustice that permeates this world. 

I hadn’t really cried, not yet, not until I watched mom get in the silver Honda that she drives when she is in town, and head back to her Bozeman home, before leaving to go south in the morning. It always breaks my heart a little because I love my mommy, and I miss her when she is away.

Regardless of my mitigated circumstances, I get to mourn this, this and other things that are unraveling in my life. And as I mourn, maybe my heart opens up a little more to the world and all Her woes. To the broken hearts, the broken bodies, and the lost souls and lives that have been shattered so senselessly.

So take a breath with me… and as we breathe may we release a little grief, may we shed a few tears, and water the world for a better future.

Lotsa love,

~Justice

Header mage: Katherine Hanlon

Safe travels, Mom. See you soon.