How does it feel to be absent from what is most important right now? How does it feel not to be able to have the person at your side who is your most important point of reference right now? Until just 6 months ago, I couldn't have told you. It wasn't present, not possible and somehow not necessary for me either. I was good with myself and the world. I looked after myself and enjoyed what there was to enjoy. If something was out of my reach, there was always an alternative, distraction, substance or, if necessary, a reproach. I didn't know any different. Missing something fervently wasn't in my repertoire; it had probably been lost. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood. Perhaps disappeared into the crack of the sofa on which I watched television for many hours every day, usually alone. What am I waiting for when nothing is coming? Who should I call for when no one hears me?
I was alone in my world and that was a good thing. There was no one I was missing. I felt so independent and grown up. But I was so lonely. There was no one close enough to me that I would miss them. No one who could leave me because I didn't let them in in the first place. And when I did get a bad feeling, I instinctively reached for the remote control or the 13th double biscuit. As easy as that was back then, it is painful to write about today.
What does it mean to really miss someone? And why is that good? For me, missing means being so close to someone that it is more painful to be without them than with them. It means having formed a connection that goes beyond thoughts and feelings in the moment. It is stronger and more constant. A connection that is not dependent on individual words, actions or activities. Free of expectations. A connection on a soul level, some would say.
Why is that good? I can only speak for myself here and share with you what comes to me in tears and dark, torn nights. Put on your diving goggles, it's going to be deep. For me, the intensity of the, sometimes unpleasant, feeling of missing someone is the exact reflection of my partnership or friendship. That means, from this perspective, this "I miss you" is a pure and emotional confirmation of the connection I have made. Every tear of grief is like a love letter from my emotional world to my mind, which calls out: This is how important this person is to you. This is how much you care about their well-being. This is how much you value their closeness.
And then my heart breaks, only to be lovingly put back together by me. My trust disappears, only to be rediscovered by me deep down.
It feels like work. It's hard. It's important. For me, this is the work I can do with myself. To be the unconditionally loving person I choose to be, even if I don't always succeed.
If there is one goal I really pursue on this planet with effort and endeavor, it is this: to love in every moment. Deeply, behind identifications and beyond conditioning. That is what makes getting up early worthwhile. That is why I like going to work, that is why I sweat and shed tears.
If the world is a mirror, then I love this mirror and therefore love myself. What is seen in the mirror is not my business and poses no danger as long as I carry this beautiful mirror in my heart.
As beautiful as these lines sound, it will be a shame if I forget them again. If I disappear again, get entangled, lose track.
And until then, I'll enjoy this warm feeling in my heart. Enjoy the blurred view through my tear-filled eyes. Enjoy the knowledge of these people that I carry so deep in my heart that not a sheet of paper can fit between them. Thank you Anka & Lukas for being these people for me. Thank you for allowing me to carry you in my heart and miss you.
You are priceless to me.
I love you. Your Mischa
