My mind can play tricks on me and one of the cruelest is when there’s a feeling in my mind that someone who has passed away may not really and truly be gone.
“Maybe I’ll run into her one day”
“If she’s not dead, then is she pissed at me for not getting in touch?”
“That would be a great birthday gift for…”
These are seemingly silly questions that arise in my thoughts at random. And I realize that I have these thoughts whether I had physical proof of the person’s death or not. I would assume that “seeing is believing” in this instance.
I saw the lifeless bodies of my step-mother and my mother. I did not see my uncle’s body, nor recently my friend Marcia. There have been several friends and grandparents who’s bodies I did not see after life left them. It turns out that it doesn’t matter–no matter the circumstance the illogical thoughts appear.
No future coffee dates, no hugs, no shared laughter. The person I loved is gone, but amazingly is still alive in my mind.
I would think that since I did see my mother a few hours after she died, I wouldn’t feel as though she might walk into the room at any moment or that I could run into her walking on the beach one day. Seeing is not believing sometimes, and the mind plays tricks–or is it that the mind keeps her life force present.
The mind is an amazing place and indefinable. The mind is not the same as the physical brain, nor the body, or the spirit. The mind is incorporeal and it is made up of our: beliefs, wishes, past experiences, and future desires. The mind is conscious and unconscious. We cannot point to our mind and we cannot feel it in a physical sense–but it affects everything we do and think.
Our imaginations are part of our mind–and dreams–whether influenced by our daily lives or deep-rooted subconscious beliefs–dreams are part of the mind too. That’s why the mind can play tricks on my waking thoughts, because those simple thoughts, “perhaps she’s alive walking this earth somewhere” are similar to my dreams.
Imagination and dreams feel similar to me, usually dreams are more confusing and convoluted, but the feelings that come up in my imagination and when I remember a dream are the same. I know it’s not completely real–but there’s a bit of disbelief, a little maybe voice echoing in my thoughts.
I worked in a jewelry store when my step-mother, Teresa, passed away. She died in May and her birthday is in November. I was at work one day in October that year and a simple thought popped in from my mind while I was cleaning some silver earrings. “Those are a good birthday gift for Teresa.” Immediately, I shook my head and my next thought was “silly Rachel, you’ll never buy Teresa a birthday gift again.” That thought allowed in the idea that I had done something wrong–that my simple thought of earring for Teresa was illogical and therefore a mistaken thought. “Live in reality!” The logical part of my mind screamed at me.
I shared my thought with a coworker, thinking he would laugh at my stupidity. But he didn’t, “that’s normal” was his response.
“Oh,” I thought.
On the one hand, it’s nice to know I’m normal and not crazy. But on the other hand I felt frightened, will these illogical thoughts never end? Will I be picking out birthday gifts for Teresa for the rest of my life? How do I tell my mind that Teresa is not alive? She will not cook for me ever again, we will not go shopping together, I will never disappoint her again…
I felt desperate in that moment for my mind to be onboard with reality. I did not want the mental ambiguity. If she is not alive then I don’t want to feel that she is in my imagination and dreams. It felt cruel, and still does sometimes. Since she’s not here and I cannot hear her voice or ask her opinion, then I don’t want to think about buying her gifts as if I need to, as if everything is normal.
Normal.
Strange and loaded word.
We all know that there is no normal–and yet we fight it or embrace it at different times.
For me, I knew life would never feel normal after Teresa died. She was not the first person I knew who died, but she was the first person in my family who died young, at age 52. After Teresa died, my mother died a year and half later, at age 48, and six months after that my uncle Norman died at age 52. These deaths shaped me and my mind, but if my mom and uncle where alive today and the most significant person in my life who had died were only Teresa–that still would have shaped me and stuck with me. I can say this with certainty because for that year and a half before my mother died I grieved heavily and my grief over the loss of my step-mother was present in my breathing, my walking, my thoughts, as well as my dreaming.
I don’t know if this is good or bad or challenging or helpful–but it’s my reaction. After my uncle died I finally went numb, the emotions were too much and my mind froze for awhile. In the course of two years I and my family had lost three people–three loved ones whose smiles we will never witness again–except in our minds.
Our beliefs live in our minds and a belief is not provable–it is something that is real to us but may not be real to someone else and may not be seen in the world in a tangible way. Beliefs can fight with reality, but amazingly, sometimes belief and reality co-exist without conflict. Belief doesn’t need reality to support it, so our mind can hold both truths. I know I will never taste Teresa’s breakfast potatoes again, but I can smell them cooking. These two things are both true–and do not need to fight.
The fight comes in when my conscious mind judges my imagination or dream-mind. The judgement isn’t necessary and the truth is that I can experience the aliveness of the people who have died as present in my mind and I can also know that I will not hug them again.
It has taken me many years to be comfortable with the duality of imagination-mind and reality. I don’t think it needs to take that long. Knowing that the coexistence is okay and allowing the mind to hold onto both lets the fighting settle and the inner-critic goes silent.
