<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body dir="auto"><br><br><div dir="ltr">Sent from my iPhone</div><div dir="ltr"><br><blockquote type="cite">On 03-Nov-2023, at 5:48 PM, James Wiegel via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:<br><br></blockquote></div><blockquote type="cite"><div dir="ltr"><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">Thanks, Karen, thanks, Ellie<div><br></div><div>Calmly?? </div><div><br></div><div>Ellie, that whole poem was just sitting inside you and out it came? What amazing people there are in this world! Wasn't there a conversation on tears somewhere in our past?? And still . . .</div><div><br></div><div>For me, a bunch of recollections came up -- I recalled being with my father when he died, and the day in Brussels when the large trees rimming the garden were trimmed way, way down -- and the looks of grief on colleagues faces watching the trimming happen and the time I facilitated a Practical Vision workshop (in Maliwada, as I recall) and it started slowly and then the visions were just bubbling forth -- a preschool, healthy food, a new well, employment, . . . And then, towards the end of the naming, and the group got very quiet and very serious and sort of sad . . . And I worried that I had done something to offend . . . So I asked -- I think it was Rukminibhai, what happened, had I done some clumsy, inappropriate thing -- and she said, "This was exciting, but it is not as though we haven't thought of and dreamed of those things before . . . So often, when we have, they haven't happened -- we were defeated, deflected, blocked . . . And that reminder is what brought up the sadness in us . . -- and I thought about contradictions . . </div><div><br></div><div>My sister and I talk on the phone each week so I sent her your emails, and some of my reflections and said I wanted to talk a bit about grief and memories of deaths in our family. This was interesting to me -- at the start of our call, she enumerated the artefacts she had assembled to surround her as we talked -- an opal ring from Mother, a gold chain with a cross from Grandma, remembrance of a handkerchief belonging to my sister which Mother had placed in Grandma's casket . . . <br><br><div dir="ltr"><span style="font-size: 13pt;">Jim Wiegel</span><br><div>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">“We are all time travelers journeying into the future. But let us make that future a place we want to visit. “ </span><span style="font-size: 13pt; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Stephen Hawking</span></p></div></div><blockquote type="cite"><div dir="ltr"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right:0.5in;margin-bottom:5pt;margin-left:0.5in"></p></div></blockquote></div><span>_______________________________________________</span><br><span>Dialogue mailing list</span><br><span>Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net</span><br><span>http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net</span><br></div></blockquote></body></html>