Saturday, April 20, 2013

Blame

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“When you blame others, you give up your power to change.” ~Dr. Anthony Robins


Michael was blown up.


Blown up by a man in a field who waited for the perfect moment to detonate thousands of pounds of explosives underneath him.


And yet, with such a heinous and deliberate act, I have no doubt in my heart, that he died in peace. He died with no anger.


After I was notified, I found myself not angered by the stranger who pressed down on the detonator. Or the military. Or the men who were with him. Or really anyone here on earth.


As the days and months passed I saw what it was to be blamed for his death by others (yes, even in grief, and in Texas, I was blamed). But I never took it personally, knowing that it was there way of displacing the pain they didn't know how to handle (I personally preferred to displace it on a bottle of wine....but we're all different).


And it's happened more since his death. Blame. Anger. Hatred. And in all honesty, I always took it because it never absorbed, and I know we all react in different ways.


But it wasn't until 4 years after his death. 4 years of learning to live. 4 years to teach myself how to inhale and exhale in a world without him. 4 years to remember who I was before the loss and merge it with who I had become.


4 years till it hit me.


And in all places, an Indian sweat-lodge.


It hit me in the vulnerability of the heat, strangers and darkness, that I realized something that I never even knew existed.


Up until that evening, I had prided myself on never blaming. I was pretty good at taking the blame. But I always felt I took ownership for my actions. It seemed easy.

But it hit me.


I had been blaming someone for something since his death.


Blaming a god/higher being for Michael's death.


It had been so easy to live a life free of blame when I had put it on someone I do not know and cannot see.


It hit my heart that night, and I had to say it. I had to verbalize something that I had been unconsciously hiding in my heart for so long.


I did.


And it changed my life.


It changed my life in allowing me to take away the blame and let be.


It allowed me to jump over the invisible stone wall that was still surrounding and cloaking every action and aspect of my life....without me even knowing it.


For it was after that moment. When I stepped out of the lodge, that found myself living a blame free life.


Blame free for me and towards any and all things.


A life that had patiently waited until the right moment to let me walk into the surprise party of awesome-ness that I didn't even know I was invited to.


I've even stopped blaming myself for not recognizing it until that moment.


For it was then that I knew that the ability to embrace change and the changes to come, far outweighs the heavy weight of the blame we create in our hearts and minds.


3 comments:

  1. I'm still feeling blame. on me, on me for not trying to get him over his addition harder, for me not putting my foot down harder. I tried, I did what I could, but it was not enough. I could have had an intervention. I just didn't have the strength. Now I bear the burden of guilt. He was a great man, alcohal took over his life. It was a disease that ran in his family. I didn't see it coming, we just had fun. How could I not have seen it? not that I would have had the guts to deal with it earlier, but I could have headed it off perhaps? I will never know. So, there lies my blame

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  2. you should be so proud of yourself and facing your feelings head on... well done

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  3. I agree that addressing blame and guilt is the first step to living a bold new life.

    The night of June 30, 2005, I found out my husband had died in a motorcycle accident. That night, I stopped praying.

    I realize that makes me sound petulant and melodramatic. Grief, with its soup of anger and fear, forced me to reevaluate and create a new relationship with God. It was a slow process. Eventually I acknowledged three things. One, God has a plan for me and my children. Two, Scott’s energy was and always will be a force in our lives; his spirit is safe, and I believe, blissfully happy. Three, I had an opportunity to rebuild and create. This opportunity was a remarkable gift, unmistakable proof of God’s pure grace.

    Please visit my blog to read more about my relationship with grief: www.storiesformymom.wordpress.com

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