Image by Pixaline from Pixabay Whew! It’s been a week of many emotions, from the pits of despair, to peace, to joy. Memories, moments swirl within, weaving together, making up my reality. Healing is happening. Growth is happening. Layers peeling back. Heart breaking open. Trauma being released.
Car screams help. Tears help. Laughter helps. Saying “yes” to spontaneous invites help. Reaching out helps. Conversation and connection help. Pausing to notice change and growth and to acknowledge it helps. Holistic healthcare helps – a lot. Grateful for all of my practitioners who have ideas and an understanding of how to help that seems to be beyond the scope of Western medicine.
I have felt myself swirling down into the too familiar drain of doom… taking one data point and projecting it into a future reality, that I obviously have no idea if it will ever come to be or not. Our minds are so quick with the stories, find such reassurance in certainty, think they know it all. They don’t.
But the old triggers awaken the automatic responses – before I even know it, I’m back in the old ways, swirling in the old thoughts, feeling the old fears. I don’t have to stay here. I am grateful for the reminders that change is not a smooth linear upward path. It never is. Growth happens in fits and spurts, in setbacks and hesitations, in erratic and unpredictable ways. The path is rarely clear.
So, keep my heart open. Allow space for what’s here in this moment. How can I be with myself? Who can support me? It’s clear I need to expand my network. My immediate desire is to call Mary… and, of course, I can’t. And though she plays me music to let me know she’s right here, it’s just not the same. Thankful for the friends who do call. Who ask, “What can I do to support you?” or who simply offer their care and love. Thankful for talking with my family. Thankful for hard, honest conversations that reflect so much. Thankful when I can help another.
This week has hit me in so many ways, from mundane and simple overwhelm from trying to do too much in too little time, to self-criticism for doing that, to more extreme situations. I’ve had moments of absolute divine flow and grace, sailing smoothly through with no rushing or lateness – definitely a rarity! And I’ve had moments of forgetting things like money to pay my acupuncturist or important documents to share with my coach. Oh well… move on through. I can pay her next time and bring those papers in a couple of weeks. We work with what’s here.
Driving through our old neighborhood the other day brought up so much… dreams of what was to be and the reality of what wasn’t. A mix of sweet memories of my kids’ childhoods twirled and danced with scary, disappointing, and terribly sad ones of later years. I felt my heart ache for it all, felt my throat clench as sobs started to rise, and I took myself to the park. I sat in the car in the parking lot and I journaled… I let everything come through my pen onto paper. I let myself cry. I let myself feel and release what had been stuffed tightly down for too long as I claimed all of it as part of this reality that is my life.
I know for me healing includes walking through the fire, facing what’s before me. As I can face it, I can release it. I can see where I’ve been and where I am now. I can reckon with the horribly hard stuff, embrace the sweet stuff and I can accept all that falls in-between.
Contemplation sometimes moves to action too quickly for my being to keep up. I love our spontaneity overall. And, sometimes it catches me off guard. We decided to sell our boat. It took less than 72 hours and it will be gone – whisked away to some other lake to cart grandkids around. That makes me happy. We had a nice run over to Beachcomber the other night for the classic summer dinner by the lake while they play beach volleyball. One of the things we’ve always loved doing with the boat! This morning we took our last spin around the lake. Getting to be captain one more time, I soaked it in. Tears ran down my face for all the reasons – mostly because this dream ever came into reality! All my life I wanted a ski boat. 9 years ago, we got our first one and it’s been a wonderful thing. Savoring the memories and at the same time relieved to be done with any hassle. Knowing there will be moments I will miss it and long for it, and knowing overall it will be a relief.
Why in the world am I carrying on about such an inconsequential thing at a time when the world is raging with so many consequential and incomprehensible things? Because it’s all part of it… each one of us is affected by the small personal things, the big personal things and the collective stuff of the world. I don’t know anyone who’s not feeling some level of weariness right now.
It’s a really good time to take good care of ourselves. And it begins, for me, with allowing the many mixed emotions to move through me. Tears, laughter, delight, agony… they can all come through in any given day. What I try to remember is that “this” won’t last. Whatever this is… it will change, morph, release, move on, and something else will quickly fill its place.
Car screams help. Tears help. Laughter helps. Saying “yes” to spontaneous invites help. Reaching out helps. Conversation and connection help. Pausing to notice change and growth and to acknowledge it helps. Holistic healthcare helps – a lot. Grateful for all of my practitioners who have ideas and an understanding of how to help that seems to be beyond the scope of Western medicine.
I have felt myself swirling down into the too familiar drain of doom… taking one data point and projecting it into a future reality, that I obviously have no idea if it will ever come to be or not. Our minds are so quick with the stories, find such reassurance in certainty, think they know it all. They don’t.
But the old triggers awaken the automatic responses – before I even know it, I’m back in the old ways, swirling in the old thoughts, feeling the old fears. I don’t have to stay here. I am grateful for the reminders that change is not a smooth linear upward path. It never is. Growth happens in fits and spurts, in setbacks and hesitations, in erratic and unpredictable ways. The path is rarely clear.
So, keep my heart open. Allow space for what’s here in this moment. How can I be with myself? Who can support me? It’s clear I need to expand my network. My immediate desire is to call Mary… and, of course, I can’t. And though she plays me music to let me know she’s right here, it’s just not the same. Thankful for the friends who do call. Who ask, “What can I do to support you?” or who simply offer their care and love. Thankful for talking with my family. Thankful for hard, honest conversations that reflect so much. Thankful when I can help another.
This week has hit me in so many ways, from mundane and simple overwhelm from trying to do too much in too little time, to self-criticism for doing that, to more extreme situations. I’ve had moments of absolute divine flow and grace, sailing smoothly through with no rushing or lateness – definitely a rarity! And I’ve had moments of forgetting things like money to pay my acupuncturist or important documents to share with my coach. Oh well… move on through. I can pay her next time and bring those papers in a couple of weeks. We work with what’s here.
Driving through our old neighborhood the other day brought up so much… dreams of what was to be and the reality of what wasn’t. A mix of sweet memories of my kids’ childhoods twirled and danced with scary, disappointing, and terribly sad ones of later years. I felt my heart ache for it all, felt my throat clench as sobs started to rise, and I took myself to the park. I sat in the car in the parking lot and I journaled… I let everything come through my pen onto paper. I let myself cry. I let myself feel and release what had been stuffed tightly down for too long as I claimed all of it as part of this reality that is my life.
I know for me healing includes walking through the fire, facing what’s before me. As I can face it, I can release it. I can see where I’ve been and where I am now. I can reckon with the horribly hard stuff, embrace the sweet stuff and I can accept all that falls in-between.
Contemplation sometimes moves to action too quickly for my being to keep up. I love our spontaneity overall. And, sometimes it catches me off guard. We decided to sell our boat. It took less than 72 hours and it will be gone – whisked away to some other lake to cart grandkids around. That makes me happy. We had a nice run over to Beachcomber the other night for the classic summer dinner by the lake while they play beach volleyball. One of the things we’ve always loved doing with the boat! This morning we took our last spin around the lake. Getting to be captain one more time, I soaked it in. Tears ran down my face for all the reasons – mostly because this dream ever came into reality! All my life I wanted a ski boat. 9 years ago, we got our first one and it’s been a wonderful thing. Savoring the memories and at the same time relieved to be done with any hassle. Knowing there will be moments I will miss it and long for it, and knowing overall it will be a relief.
Why in the world am I carrying on about such an inconsequential thing at a time when the world is raging with so many consequential and incomprehensible things? Because it’s all part of it… each one of us is affected by the small personal things, the big personal things and the collective stuff of the world. I don’t know anyone who’s not feeling some level of weariness right now.
It’s a really good time to take good care of ourselves. And it begins, for me, with allowing the many mixed emotions to move through me. Tears, laughter, delight, agony… they can all come through in any given day. What I try to remember is that “this” won’t last. Whatever this is… it will change, morph, release, move on, and something else will quickly fill its place.
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