Praying and Meditating

So in a split second I went from a sunfilled autumn day playing in the woods with my kids and their friends to a nightmare that walked me along the edge of life and death; a freak moment that pulled my eldest son out of a tree that he was climbing and onto a a big rock that was sticking out of the grass.

That was 3 months ago and after an ambulance, A&E, Intensive care, Neurosurgery, Wellington Hospital Childrens ward and 2 and a half months of home healing time he is back at school and I am full of love, gratitude and relief. I let go of my work, my plans and my agenda completely and was fully present and available to my children. We are really so very fortunate that he will make a full recovery and also that many beautiful gifts have arisen during this time around connection, creativity and resting.

Poems have arrived from this space and here is one that came to me out of this experience.

 

Praying and Meditating

I’d never prayed before
the day
I landed on the roof
of a city hospital
in a helicopter
with my son in a fragile cocoon,
life force pulsing
through a monitor.

And in the waiting time,
as they put his eggshell
of a head
back together again,
I got down
on my knees,
and put my heart
into the hands
of something bigger.

And Love began to flow
with kindness and
hope seeping through
the device
held in my hand;
A beacon
locating my life raft
in the storm and
I held on.

And my boy gasped and awoke
with the rage and fight
of a soul that is not
yet done in this world.
Back online
eye by eye,
ear by ear,
limb by limb.

And his whole system now
animating with disbelief,
bouncing back so fast
and strong
away from
the monitors,
the tubes,
the fluorescent corridors
until we landed back home again

with a bump.

And now I sit meditating
with the residue
of human fragility
in one hand
and resilience
in the other
and they meet together
in front of my heart
in Oneness.

And as they touch
I feel the difference
between
praying and
meditating.

One is for speaking
out to God,
and the other is for listening
in to God.

 by Sam Loe

2 Comments

  1. So beautiful, thank you for sharing and inviting us to feel our own tenderness, and our own resilience, as we let go and are held by Grace.

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