Lessons on Grief...

On September 27, Jonny and I were hiking with friends in Aspen when we received the news that one of our best friends in Belize had died suddenly of a heart attack.  We were shocked and completely stunned by the news and as tears streamed down our faces we asked things like “how could Michael die….wait, what, I don’t believe this?” because in that moment of shock we found that it was so hard to make sense of what had happened, let alone try to rationalize anything. 

Our friends who were with us on the hike appeared to be shocked by the news as well, and while they didn’t know Michael, they could tell that he was immensely important to us, however they didn’t know what to do and how to support us in that moment.  In fact, they didn’t say anything.  They didn’t hug us, or try to comfort us, or talk to us; they just stood there, as we stood alone feeling confused and grief stricken over the whole thing.  Their lack of immediate outward compassion left us feeling even more cold and lonely and I realized later that even though these friends are very close to me, are incredibly evolved spiritual beings and have all lost someone that they love – that they didn’t know what to do in that moment or how to support us.  And unfortunately because they were feeling uncomfortable over the lack of not knowing what to do, it made our grief feel even more isolating in that moment.   I hold no hard feelings towards them, for I know that they were just trying to do their best, however this experience made me realize that so many people have no idea how to support a friend who is grieving – which is why I decided to write this blog post.   

During the next two days, I reached out to friends and family for support and from some I received the most amazing heartfelt responses and calls, others didn’t respond at all, and others responded with “oh yeah, I saw that on Facebook, sorry to hear about that” which felt so insincere and almost worse than them not saying anything at all. 

Because here is the thing about people who are grieving – their hearts hurt and feel so raw and vulnerable and alone and so anything that someone else can do to bring authentic love and compassion to them helps them so much to feel like they don’t have to be alone in this. 

Our Michael died on Saturday afternoon and by Monday we had made a last minute decision to go to Belize for the memorial - and we are so glad that we did.  While we there we were able to celebrate his life with our other Belizean friends and support his sweet family who was missing him so much.  It allowed us to cry together with people who loved him and it brought closure and healing to us, which was so helpful. 

While traveling to and from Belize, I also had a lot of time to think and reflect.  I realized that death makes people really uncomfortable and that so many people don’t know what to do when it happens and because of that I wanted to share my experience of it and offer ways that people can help support a grieving friend or family member.

Below I am including 25 AMAZING ways to help a grieving family that was written by Anna Whiston-Donaldson.  Anna is a grieving Momma who lost her sweet son much too early.  I really recommend that you read this and then bookmark it so that you can access it again later when you need to.  However, if you don’t have time to read it all now, then here are 5 of my own tips on ways that you can help a friend or family member who is grieving.

1. This isn’t about you.    If you are feeling uncomfortable or uncertain on what to do - get over it – this isn’t about you or whether you are comfortable or not – it is about supporting your friend whose heart is breaking and showing up in your loving to the best of your ability.

2.   Acknowledge the loss. If you hear that someone has died, reach out to the grieving friends and family immediately to express your condolences.   Even if you don't know the person who died, you can say something like “my heart goes out to you, I can tell from the pictures of (name) that he was a really special person and shined an amazing light in this world, I can only imagine how much he is missed.” Something as small as this can mean so much to a grieving family member.

3. Don’t be afraid to mention their name and tell stories about your time together.  Talking about the person who has passed can be healing not only for you but for other family and friends as well.  While talking about this person can oftentimes bring tears, its ok, tears don’t need to be feared, tears are an expression of love and sadness and are ultimately incredibly healing.

4. Show up.  If you can attend the funeral – GO.  Feeling uncomfortable about going?  Once again – this isn’t about you – this is about supporting the family and bringing love and support to them.  Also, stop by, check in, give hugs (lots of hugs), ask them to go on walks, keep remembering them…..especially in the days and weeks after the funeral when life has gone back to normal for everyone except for them.

5. Practice heart centered listening.  The ability to listen to a grieving friend talk about their loss can mean more than you know.  You don’t need to have all the answers, but you can simply listen and say, “I really hear you” and offer your loving to them.  Sometimes they won’t want to talk and will just want to sit in silence and that is ok too, so offering to just sit in silence with them can be a beautiful way to support them as well.

These are just some of my tips….and by no means am I the expert.  I would love to hear from you - what has been helpful to you as you have gone through times of grief?  Post your suggestions and tips in the comments below, or on the comments on Facebook.

And now for the truly amazing tips for how to “Love On” a family who is grieving…read these….and check out Anna’s website…through her pain and vulnerability, this woman has taught me so much….I hope that she helps to give you insight into how you can support those who are grieving as well.  Read on….

What You Can Do to Help a Grieving Family by Anna Whiston-Donaldson.

1. PRAY. PRAY. PRAY.

2. Attend the Funeral. To attend funerals people must travel, skip work or school, arrange childcare, and figure out parking and directions. Funerals are inconvenient. The bereaved family knows this and will be blessed and lifted when people extend themselves to be there. Do not worry if you were not close to the deceased, or have been out of touch with the family for many years. Attend anyway. A funeral is a communal event; you will not be intruding. You never know if your presence, or even a glimpse of you or a hug from you will be THE ONE that provides the most comfort.

3. Cook. Have a point person arrange meal sign-up via a website such as Take Them A Meal. or Sign Up Genius Consider making a meal and freezing it in your own freezer for when the other meals stop coming. A small family will appreciate smaller meals so they don't feel they are wasting food. We were so grateful to have meals provided for us for almost 4 months!

4. Send a card or a handwritten note. If possible, include a personal story about the the person who died. Even the smallest anecdote is welcome. These are treasured by the family and read over and over. One friend reminded me in a card that one of Jack's first words was "Azalea." How cool is that?

If you are not able to share a personal story, don't worry. A simple, "I am so very sorry for your loss" or "My heart is breaking for you" will help. When you write your letter, consider going ahead and addressing another envelope to send 3, 6, or 9 months out. The envelope will help you remember to pray for the family, and your next letter will come when most people have stopped sending cards.

5. Send flowers to the home or church; however, you may want to consider sending flowers to the home a month or two after the death so that they will not overwhelm the family. Seeing the house full of flowers, that would eventually die, was hard for me.

6. Come by to show your support. When Jack was missing, close friends and family just showed up. They stayed with us until we found out the horrible news of his death. Several sat in the dark at my kitchen table until after midnight to be there when my sister arrived. They all had other things they could have been doing that rainy night, but they showed up.

In the days following a death, a family should have a point person who feels comfortable telling people whether or not it's a good time to visit, because immediate family members may be too shocked and confused to be able to communicate this. When you drop by, be prepared for a quick hug and then to be on your way, but be flexible. If the bereaved family asks you to stay, be open to that, too. Men, don't be shy about coming by. Tim appreciated men dropping by just for him.

7. If you are a close family friend, consider taking any children out for an activity to give them a break from the home atmosphere. Kids need chances to feel "normal" in the midst of grief.

8. Give the family pet some attention. Our neighbor walked Shadow several times a day and even kept her overnight during those first crazy days.

9. Consider the physical needs of the home. Working in the yard could make a family feel too exposed or vulnerable so soon after a death. One friend mowed our grass for us. He didn't know that Jack was the grass mower in our house and that it would be so painful for us to do it ourselves, but he just thought it would be helpful and showed up. Another family raked our leaves. One friend, after asking if it was okay, came by and planted 100 tulip bulbs in our yard while I was at work! Mulching, powerwashing, or cleaning someone's gutters could be other outside jobs a grieving family might not feel able to tackle. You can include your kids in some of these tasks. I remember Tim taking Jack to spread mulch at a newly widowed friend's house and it was a meaningful experience for them both.

10. Drop a gift in the mail. We received grief books, devotionals, inspirational Cd's, fruit, sweets and more in the mail. Every day of the week I now wear special, meaningful jewelry that represents Jack and was sent to me by people all over the world. These touching gifts took time and effort and are so special to us. Margaret has received small gifts and even a care package from France! Consider mailing a gift card to a restaurant or the movies for a family to use later when they feel up to it. Sometimes a gift card provides the motivation to get out of the house.

11. Make a contribution to charity in the name of the deceased. Consider writing it on your calendar now to do annually so the family will know you have not forgotten. These donations help a family see that something positive can come out of their loss. If you feel led, spearhead a scholarship or a charitable event in the person's name.

12. Mention the deceased person's name when you see the family. It's hard. Do it anyway. The family will cry. Do it anyway.

13. Invite a family member out for coffee, a meal, a walk, or a sporting event. One on one time with a friend, sharing the story and processing it, is a valuable form of therapy. Don't worry if they say no; sometimes they are not ready, or they may need to spend time with someone else right now. Ask anyway.

14. Use texting, email, blogging or Facebook to reach out to the family. You can do this anytime of day or night. I have one friend, whom I did not know very well before the accident, who is committed to praying for us and sending us messages when her baby gets her up at night, which is often. Don't worry about saying the same thing again and again. Your friends are not looking for words of wisdom, just the reminder that you are there.

15. Do not feel offended if your phone calls go unreturned. Just leave a loving message. I have found returning phone calls, or even picking up the phone, to be daunting and difficult, but I still appreciate hearing messages.

16. Send photos or videos of the deceased. Even if you think family members might already have photos from an event, send whatever you have. A new facial expression or a different angle provides them with another glimpse of the one who is gone. The photos on today's post were sent to me by a reader I've never met who realized Jack was in the background of some of her photos from the LEGO store in 2010!

17. Use your special talents to show your love. A poem. A knitted prayer shawl or blanket. A painting. Handcrafted jewelry. We have been stunned by the way people have shared their talents by making us gifts from the heart.

18. Get creative! You have heard how our community tied royal blue bows around trees and mailboxes so that we would feel loved when we drove around town. Then our blogging friends tied ribbons at their homes around the world, and even put them on their Christmas trees. Now, we have made blue ribbon magnets with Jack's Bible verse on them for our cars. Who knew how the simple act of tying a ribbon could bring us so much comfort?

Maybe there is a special color associated with the deceased, or a symbol (dove, butterfly, rainbow) that reminds you of him or her. For Jack, friends and neighbors made LEGO crosses to wear at the funeral. These incorporated 2 of Jack's greatest loves! Maybe YOUR idea or kind gesture will be the one that will most resonate with the family, whether it is tying bows, lining their driveway with luminaria, setting up a Facebook memory page, having a card signed by a Sunday School class, or organizing a tribute such as a balloon release. If you are feeling led to commemorate the deceased in such a way, it could be a big blessing to the family.

19. Even if you didn't know the deceased, consider sharing what the deceased means to you NOW. Eternal life is, well, ETERNAL. Jack's life is affecting people in ways we could never imagined, and we are blessed that so many people are making the effort to let us know, through emails, blog comments, letters, or person. This helps ease the sting. Have you had a dream about the person who passed away? Tell the family.

20. You may want to drop by during the day, or at work. While this not be appropriate for some people, because of their job settings, it has been nice to me to be surprised by friends bearing smoothies, hugs, or a cup of tea at my tear-friendly workplace.

21. REMEMBER. Take note of the season, the day of the month, the day of the week, even the time of day that the deceased person left us. Reach out at these times as you feel led-- through a quick email, text, or note.

22. Write the person's birthday and death day on your calendar. Send a note or an email on those days.

23. Memorialize the loved one by planting a tree, erecting a cross, making a stepping stone, donating a book to an elementary school, starting a scholarship, or installing a bench.

24. Visit the cemetery. I have only been to Jack's cemetery 2 times, but I know others have gone FOR me. Maybe a face to face at visit at the family's home isn't your thing, but saying a prayer in the quiet of a cemetery is.

25. Follow promptings. If you feel a prompting to reach out, it could very well mean that the family needs your support. Do not get bogged down thinking about how close you were or weren't before the death. A reality of death is that relationships change during difficult times. The grieving person may not have the support you think they do. YOU may be the one who can best relate, or listen, or connect with a hurting person. It may feel awkward at first, but it's worth it. I think of how blog readers have felt prompted to write to me, share their own experiences, and offer prayer. If they had gotten bogged down about our not knowing each other "in real life," they would never have reached out.

Okay, so this is a VERY long list, and if it weren't after midnight, it would probably grow longer. I hope it doesn't sound entitled, or like I think other people should take care of every aspect of our family's life, just because we lost Jack. These are just some of the incredible ways people have reached out to us, and I hope by sharing them others can be helped similarly.

Of course, NO ONE can do all of these things. But someone did do EACH of these things. And more.

Love is a verb.

Night Skiing

In Minnesota, when daylight savings time hits the days get dark….like really dark.  The sun has been setting here around 4:20 for the past week or so and will continue to do so for at least another few weeks.  The early darkness messes with my mindset and even if it is 4:30 in the afternoon, because of the fact that it is dark out, my thoughts tend to sound something like “well it’s dark, the day is done, I can’t go partake in outdoor activities anymore, because it is dark and bedtime is just around the corner”.  What bullshit, right?!  Just because it is dark doesn’t mean that my day is over….and I learned that today when my friend called me and asked me to go cross country skiing with her….. 

We left around 4:00, just as the sun was beginning to set and when we showed up at the ski trails, they looked something like this.....

Absolutely gorgeous.  The trails were lit and we skied for over an hour – which proved to me that hello, I can still partake in activity, even if it is dark out....

While I was skiing, I flashed back to the time when Tyler first told me that he wanted a divorce and we were back home in MN for Christmas.  I remember that after hearing the news I didn’t do anything besides lay down - on the couch, the living room floor or my bed.  I was in so much shock that I couldn’t do anything besides just lay there.  Finally, my mom decided that I needed to move my body and get fresh air, so she started taking me skiing everyday while I was home.  And it helped, at least a little.  There is something so grounding about being in the woods in the dead of winter.  The cold air is harsh and unforgiving, but the silence and beauty of the snow-laden woods is so peaceful that it just seems to wrap me up in a way that makes me strongly feel like I will be ok.   And so tonight as I was skiing quietly through the woods, I was reminded of similar ski outings like this only five years ago when I was also heartbroken and sad, and I realized that even though back then when I never thought that I would heal from the devastation of my divorce, that healing did eventually take place.  And as soon as I recognized that, then the saying “This too shall pass” came into me and struck a deep chord.  I realized that at some point this grieving over Jonny will also pass.  I don’t know how, and I don’t know when, especially because this feels so much sadder than the Tyler situation ever did, but when that message came to me tonight, it just resonated so strongly within me that this situation, yes, this too shall pass. 

I needed that reminder tonight.  That reminder that eventually I will be ok – because what choice do I have but to go on?  I don’t know how this will all resolve, I don’t know why we have to go through this now….I just do know that someday, eventually, I will be ok again – however that looks and whatever that means.  And right now to be totally honest, I don't feel like I am ok all of the time, I’m sad, and I really still miss him a lot, and his silence kills me and frustrates me (we are trying this whole "lets not communicate thing" to see if that helps, but I don't think it does, because while it does hurt at times when we do communicate, it hurts me a hell of a lot more when I don't hear from him), but I'm trying to tell myself that it’s ok, because there is a learning lesson tied into this all.  If nothing else I am learning to love myself again and am gaining so much compassion and empathy for those who are also dealing with heartache and depression.  In case I didn’t understand depression before, I get it now, loud and clear.  In Spiritual Psychology we are learning that “Physical-world reality exists for the purpose of Spiritual Evolution; thus all of life is for learning and growing spiritually.”  At times this growth can be terrifying, as I don’t know what is going to happen or where it is going to lead, but I do know that it is teaching me how to surrender, how to look to a higher power and how to call in that love and the light.  I’m definitely growing spiritually, but sometimes (ok all the time) I just wish it didn’t have to be such a freaking process.    But if it weren’t such a hard process then I have a feeling that wherever I am going wouldn’t be as gratifying once I got there.  I guess they never did say that spiritual growth would be easy….just that I would be given lots of opportunities for learning and healing in order to get there….  Spiritual Psychology also says that “Unresolved issues are blessings as they are opportunities for healing”.  So apparently according to that, I’m being graced with blessings and lots of them.  Maybe I should be more grateful?  I guess so, I’ll work on it…and maybe I should also work on embracing " the fool in me" more....  My favorite blog Momastery just posted this and I loved it....

“I must learn to love the fool in me–the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of my human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my Fool.”
Theodore Isaac Rubin (born 1923);
psychiatrist, author

Doing hard things

As I write this, I am currently stranded in Minneapolis due to the blizzard that began last night and continued through the morning, afternoon, and evening encompassing us all in a silent, white, impassable beauty. 

I came down here to attend a surprise baby shower for my friend Becky and saw her and some other friends while I was here.  It was good for me to see them, as these are people that really know me, and I felt like I was able to let down my guard a little bit when I was around them this weekend.  I’ve been working on being more vulnerable with my friends again and allowing myself to just open up and cry when I need to, which has felt hard, but good at the same time.  I think for a while there I didn’t want to talk about my pain for fear of crying, but what I’ve realized is that it is important for me to be able to talk about it and it is important for them to hear it and to see those tears.  It is important that I allow myself to just feel right now, because so much of this feels scary - which makes me want to hide it.  But when I allow myself to be vulnerable with myself and with my friends, it then becomes a little less scary because their love, strength and words of wisdom help to support me, and makes me feel a little less alone in all of this.  It seems as if I am being worked so hard right now with this process, that I feel like eventually I have to arrive at some type of tipping point where I will be able to break through to some resolution of peace inside of me.  Or at least that is what I hope.  But I really do hope that I am coming to a place where I can begin to relax and naturally breathe deeply, without having to remind myself to take a conscious breath, because I will have finally reached a point where I won’t be holding my breath so often in fear of what is coming next. 

But I haven’t found that peace yet, as the Christmas season is bringing with it not only a little extra stress but some anxiety as well.  Thoughts ruminate through my head such as where are Jonny and Ollie going to be?  What are they doing?  What will this Christmas look like?  I would love to know.  But when I really slow down to think about what my Christmas will look like, I know that it will be beautiful - I’m sure of that.  Though, intermixed within that joy and love of this holiday, there will be a bit of sadness there as well and I know that I need to make that ok.  And it will be ok.  I will have my family around me, and they llooovveee me, and they know that this is hard for me, but they also know that I can do hard things, as I have done much harder things than this in the past.  Reminder to self: I can do hard things. Christmas might be hard, but I can do it, I've done it before.  And they know, and I know, that it will be a good lesson in teaching me how to dig deep, into the pathways of my heart, to find the courage and the compassion to stay present and celebrate joyfully, and to find some mother freaking Christmas cheer, regardless of the situation at hand.  And so while there is sadness, there is also a lot of space for joy, love and gratitude, even if I have to remind myself to get in touch with it and breathe it in - I know that it is always present, and that goodness will only grow stronger if I let it…..and so I might as well do what it takes to let it…or attempt to anyway….

And so I think that the point of this is the reminder that we can all do hard things.  Even when that little voice inside of us doesn't want to. We can do these hard things, and we will, for it doesn't serve us to play small.  And so honestly, one of my hard things that I am currently looking at today, includes just getting through the Christmas season.  Some things that will help with that are: trusting in the process, taking deep breaths, hugs, friends, family time, cookies, spiced eggnog, and going to Zumba to let loose and burn off said cookies and nog….

Becky's Blizzard Baby shower....

A moment of sincere happiness with friends. 

Embracing the darkness

“One of the wonderful things about having adversity and difficulties and challenges is they will often show you a deeper love, a deeper strength -- something valuable that you didn't know existed, until whatever it took to overcome the challenges shows you what you didn't know about yourself, and what you were seeking.

That's a blessing.”

- John Morton

When I went to school in the beginning of November, I left the weekend feeling like I was flying high.  Life felt good, I went and played with my friend Greta in Oregon, we hand tons of fun, and then I went to a work conference in WA, entered real life and I crashed.  Hard.  I think that it is safe to say that I became officially depressed in November (not like I wasn’t depressed from July-now, but it seemed to get worse this past month).  For some reason in November, I felt like I should have been over all of this already, that I should be happy and embracing life and be over Jonny – I thought to myself, it has been 4 months already, I shouldn’t be so freaking sad – why can’t I just be FINE already?  But I couldn’t just be fine, and I can understand a little bit more now as to why I still can’t be just fine quite yet….

This time when I went to school, I didn’t leave the weekend feeling like I was flying high, which I think is a good sign.  I instead left the weekend feeling balanced, centered and very aware of the sadness, but with a better awareness and acceptance of how I can look at it and manage it.  I learned a lot this weekend and was reminded of some really important concepts – concepts such as It is OK to still be really sad….it has ONLY been 4 MONTHS….I was ridiculously in love with this guy for 4 YEARS, so just give it some more time.   I was reminded of this over and over again and by the end of the weekend, I think that it finally got through to me to have a little more compassion for myself and where I am at with all of this, because where I am right now with all of this is actually just fine.  I’m doing the best that I can and it is important that I remember to remind myself of the good things that I am doing such as exercising, showering, eating, meditating, working, having friends and brushing my hair and teeth before I go out with them, etc.  The hair brushing and showering doesn’t happen all the time, but the good news is that it is freakin’ cold in MN so hats are real stylish right about now….which is definitely in my favor…and all of this means that I am making progress and so I need to recognize and congratulate myself for that….which is something that I haven’t been doing enough of….

I learned this weekend that an interesting thing about grief is that one must cry all of their tears before they will ever be done grieving, and that this needs to be made ok, whatever the process for this is.  They said that if we don’t allow ourselves to cry all of our tears now, that we will have to cry them later – and sometimes that later can be 20 years down the road for people because they hold their grief with them for that long, until they finally can’t hold it anymore and they have to release it.  We were told that it is always best to express our sad emotions that are present, rather than trying to bottle them up, because we want to be able to resolve the issue now, that way it doesn’t have to come back to us again in the future.

What a relief to find that out.  Whew.  I was starting to get worried about all of this crying that I was still doing, but now I know…I still have more tears left to cry, and not only is that ok, but it is healthy because I am doing it now instead of later.  Thank goodness too, because I know with December hitting and Christmas coming, that the tears probably won’t be stopping anytime soon…but now that I know this, I feel better about it and a little less judgmental about the whole “oh great, I’m breaking down and crying in the middle of the day again” thing…. because now I know that with every cry it just means that it is slowly helping me to release the pain. 

I also learned that we finally stop crying when we come to a place of peace where we are able to resolve the issue within.  And we can get to this place through compassionate self-forgiveness and by giving love to the places inside that hurt, for healing is applying loving inside to the places that hurt.

Earlier this month I felt like I had stopped applying the loving to the places that hurt and instead I was just kind of going numb.  And I was, because for a while there I just hurt so much that I didn’t know what to do, so I spent a lot of time staring at the walls, just trying to go numb, because I thought maybe that would help.  I was so wrong.  Note to self: numbly staring at the walls, never helps. This weekend I reinforced that note, as I learned that it is important not to get into the pattern of numbing ourselves, because when we do that we don’t allow ourselves to feel the pain – yet it is so important that we must feel the pain, and to do so it takes a lot of courage and risk to look at it.  But if we don’t take the risk to look at it now, we will always have to look at it later.  So I decided that I can’t allow myself to go numb anymore and that I need the courage and the honesty to look at what is true.  Because we can’t be numb and be true at the same time, for numbness is just masking what is true.  And perfect vulnerability is perfect perfection, so I need to allow myself to go to that deep place inside that is really scared and bring compassion and vulnerability to it.  Even when the truth hurts, it is hurting in a way that is also showing me how to grow, how to dig deep, and how to take deep breaths so that I can remember that I am alive and can continue to keep carrying on.

And so, as the days only continue to get shorter and darker from here until Solstice on December 21st (the MN sun set at 4:21 today – it is dark), I know now that I just have to keep going through the darkness and embracing it with love, because I also know that I have a great light to bear, and that light will ultimately lead me through this all.  And I know that I can’t give up yet, because somewhere amongst all this hardship, I am coming upon a great lesson – a lesson of learning how to love myself through it all.  There are no mistakes, just lessons to be learned.  Hard, effing lessons – but lessons and blessings indeed.

Barusch Bashan – The Blessings Already Are. 

Making it through

With the steady beat of a heart

My body grows colder each day,

Without the warmth of your hands

Or the glow of the sun to heat me

This pace isn’t letting up

But yet I’m still standing here…

Wondering how you got so far away

Where I can’t touch you, or feel you.

My grip loosens and bends

Learning how to let go,

But not understanding why I must,

Its too confusing you see…

The memory of a love that once also had so much pain

Flickers to remind me that it is still here.

But with the steady beat of a heart

I know I must brave the valleys and the peaks

To warm my body without you,

I just need to figure out how 

I’m going to make it through this year...

Yet in one way or another, 

Poco a poco, pequeños pasos....

little by little, small steps....

I am finding a way to pick up my heart
and arrive.  

 Mujer corazón viajero 

Writers Block

I’ve had a bad spell of writers block lately. 

Not knowing how to access my emotions and share them with you here - openly, freely, and creatively….

I’ve been feeling numb.

Numbness blocks my creativity.

It doesn’t allow for the words to flow, and it makes things feel mushy and heavy and hard.

But tonight I’m trying to break through the numbness and instead of just staying in it, taking active steps forward, onwards and OUT.

Steps like writing – even if I don’t feel like it.

These small steps allow me to make progress and help me get better.

"Your only as sick as your secrets" they say, so I figure that I might as well share mine....

My secret is that although I hide it well somedays, I'm still really quite sad. 

You see, I’m starting to enjoy life more.

Or at least I am on the outside. 

For those who don’t know me well enough, you see me as that happy-go-lucky, fun gal to hang out with.  I'm fairly social.  I'm staying busy.

I appear to be better.

For the most part... 

However, those who know me well – you know better than that. 

You know that there is still this heavy sadness that seems to stay with me wherever I go. 

A sadness that I can’t seem to shake, so at times I go numb so that I can at least try to function. 

Try being the key word.

The past few days I have found myself moving slowly and getting stuck in one spot where I will just sit

and sit

and sit

and stare

and think

and sit some more. 

This usually happens at night. 

I’m not sure what I’m waiting for – but I get lost in my thoughts….

Lost in my sadness….

My heart and my bed feel lonely.

And so I will just sit there to avoid the loneliness of having to go to a bed where I no longer am the little spoon. 

Letting the tears trickle slowly….down….my….cheeks….

Yet after a while there is this voice that always shows up inside to urge me along, into bed.

And so I listen to that voice of wisdom and crawl into bed, lonely and hungry, but knowing that I must carry on….

And carry on I have, as I try to face this broken heart.

I’m working on applying loving inside to the places that hurt.

I’ve been able to recognize, acknowledge and express images of my own self-worth.

It’s been hard – but progress has been made.

I’ve been trying to believe in myself, in my friends, in my family, in my God and in the trust that this is all happening perfectly.

As it should.

I’m learning to embrace new parts of me that I never liked before.

Like my big, curly hair. 

Its real big.

And curly.

My friends say its pretty. 

I like to trust that I can believe them.

I’m ready for this numbness to leave.

For my creativity to return.

For my happiness to be stable and no longer fleeting.

For my longing to decrease.

He feels it too.  He feels how hard it is.  He knows my pain.  He loves me still.....

Yet nothing is changing.  Within the status of our relationship at least.  There is lots that is changing everywhere else.

But there is still more inner work that needs to be done.  But won't that always be the case?

It’s been four months.  

That feels like a LONG time, yet I need to remind myself that its really not in the whole scheme of things.

Each day I continue to try to choose a path full of compassion, health and wisdom.

Each day I just try to make the next best good choice. 

But somedays I get off track.

Today was one of those days.

So was yesterday.

Yet I know that this numbness….that this too shall pass. 

Tomorrow is a new day. 

Maybe tomorrow I’ll write a happy blog for Thanksgiving – as I know there is much to be thankful for. 

Ok I can do that.

Yet right now, tomorrow is miles and miles away.

So here you are you are stuck with a sad post from today.

One day at a time – I can do that too.

So can you.

Sitting.  Too late at night. With big, messy, curls.  

Staying Awake

When I lived in Mexico, I never thought that I would miss it the way that I do, but it ends up that I do miss Oaxaca…..a lot.

I just returned home from an International Education Conference in Kansas. 

Kansas is very far from Mexico.

At those types of things, people love to ask you where you are from.  I had to always answer with “Duluth”.

Though, I seemed to always follow-up with “but I just recently moved back from Oaxaca, Mexico”, because the answer of “Duluth” never seemed to satisfy me.

I realized that having lived in Oaxaca gives me significance.  It makes me feel special, whereas Duluth doesn’t.  And when I get to talk about Mexico, it makes me able to miss it a little bit less, so I tend to like to bring it into conversation whenever possible.

I need to process my experience of living there, but I don’t know how.

The loss of Jonny happened at the same time as our transition back to the States and that loss overtook any chance of a healthy transition back and because of that only now am I beginning to process it.  The thing is, the only person that I want to process it with is him.  No one else understands on the same level.  So I end up missing Oaxaca and him together, which seems to make it worse.

Not only do I miss Oaxaca, but Latin America in general.  My heart aches for it and this reverse culture shock is a slow, confusing process, especially because I feel so isolated in it.

At this conference there were also tons of people there from Colorado.

I made friends with 4 people from Fort Collins.  I wished that I was getting on the plane with them back to Denver. 

I secretly envied them for living there.  I wanted to tell all of them that “I was supposed to be there too!!”  But instead I kept my mouth shut, because no one except for me really cares that I was supposed to live there.  The fact is that I’m not living there.  I need to work on living in the present. 

All of this makes me feel confused and like I am still wandering around lost. 

When will this get easier?

I cry in the mornings still – though not every day anymore.  I suppose that part is getting easier.  Thank God too, as I was starting to go through a lot of Kleenex.

This week I read a quote by Tony Robbins, he said “The only thing keeping us from getting what we want is the story that we are telling ourselves for why we can’t have it.”

I realized that I have a lot of limiting stories that I need to work through.  

The hard part is actually working them and letting them go.

I go back to USM next weekend; I’ll try to work them there.

USM gives me hope for the future.

Hope that life will be beautiful again.

Hope that I will love again.

Hope that someday I won’t hurt so much anymore and will no longer wake up with such a tightness in my stomach.

A French Proverb says “Hope is the dream of a soul awake”.

Here’s to hoping I continue to stay awake……

The Long Time Sun

This past weekend in class, our morning sessions would always start with a five minute meditation. During this meditation we were asked to send loving energy to ourselves and anyone else in our lives who could use some peace and love.  These people could be our family members, our friends, people who were distant to us, our enemies, our lovers, soldiers in war, etc. Anyone who we felt needed some extra love.  We would create a chalice in our heart and envision these people in that loving energy.   Whenever we would do that it would make me cry, and it would remind me of this song called “The Long Time Sun” that we always sing at the end of my new Yoga class.  The song repeats itself three times – the first time the message is for you, the second time it is for the people you hold in your hearts, and the third time is for your world.  Every time that we sing it during yoga, this also makes me cry and I end class with tears streaming down my cheeks.

Today I was given the opportunity and reminder to practice what I had learned for how to hold people in our hearts.  I’m not sure on this, but for reasons I can’t get into here on this blog, I think that today might have started out as a scary day for Jonny.  And this morning I woke up feeling nervous for him and I wanted so badly to text him, to say “I love you and support you” because I knew that it would make him feel better, but I also knew that I couldn’t do that, that I would be supporting him more by actually not doing that.  I’m working really hard lately on not interfering in his process and letting his inner wisdom guide him through.  We are also learning this at school – how to let people come to their own conclusions by just listening to them and not giving advice – because if you provide a person with the loving space to do it, they can solve most of their problems on their own, through their own guiding light.  And it’s true – we can.  We have the inner strength and guidance to do it. Jonny can do it, I know he can.  I can too.  But I have to let him do it on his own.  And so this morning, instead of texting him, I walked to the top of this hill and watched the Long Time Sun rise over the lake and I stood there and just cried.  I cried as I held him in my heart and just hoped that he could feel my loving coming through.  I didn’t know what else to do except to send love and strength to him and to cry for him, for me, for this bruitful life and for this entire process.  And a process it is.  Somedays life feels manageable.  Other days it still feels scary and sad.  Today was one of those days. So with that....may the long time sun shine upon me, upon you, upon all of us.....

May the long time sun shine upon you

All love surrounds you

And may the pure light within you

Guide your way on…..

How do you live your dash?

I just returned home from attending the funeral of my friend’s father.  He died tragically in a plane accident last week and our community is devastated for the family's loss.

I don’t have much to say, except that I am sitting here feeling so humbled right now.  Today my sweet friend faced my (and I’m sure her) biggest fear – attending the funeral of one of your beloved family members.  She was so brave, and poignant, and beautiful.  And I didn’t know what to do, except to show up and love her, hug her, and hold her hand, because what else can we do in situations like these except to just be there and love?

And so yes, I feel humbled, because while I am indeed going through my own personal loss, her loss is so much greater.  And it made me reflect and really tune into all of the many, wonderful reasons that I have to be grateful for in my life.  Ever since I heard of her father’s passing, I feel like I have been walking around with fresh eyes, just feeling grateful for everything that is present for me – because there is so much to be grateful for.

All of it is so humbling - losing my partner, moving back in with my parents, not liking my job, readjusting to a new social scene, living in Minnesota….. I didn’t ask for any of it, yet it showed up in my life for some reason, so I’ve decided to try to come to peace with it, because when it comes down to it, much of what I get upset about on a day-to-day basis is relatively trivial, and there is still a lot in my life to be grateful for and that gratefulness seems like a better focus for now...

The poem below was on the back of the handout today at the funeral and it made me really think about my life and others lives and how we are “living our dash” in this bruitful world.

“I read of a man who stood to speak

at the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on her tombstone

from the beginning...to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth

and spoke of the following date with tears,

but he said what mattered most of all

was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time

that she spent alive on earth...

and now only those who loved her

know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;

the cars....the house...the cash.

What matters is how we live and love

and how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard...

are there things you'd like to change?

For you never know how much time is left.

(You could be at "dash midrange.")

If we could just slow down enough

to consider what's true and real,

and always try to understand

the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,

and show appreciation more

and love the people in our lives

like we've never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,

and more often wear a smile...

remembering that this special dash

might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy's being read

with your life's actions to rehash...

would you be proud of the things they

say about how you spend your dash?”  ~Linda Ellis

For me, right now, I am living my dash by continuing to go forward trying to find the blessings in everything that life brings.  To find reasons to be grateful for each day.  To keep holding in the loving for my friends, my family and for Jonny and myself.  To be gentle with myself and the process of healing and to continue to extend my unconditional loving to Jonny from afar.  To continue to hold hope in the belief of miracles and love.  To appreciate mother nature and this adventure called life. To share laughter when it is present, spend quality time with the people I love, and to trust that all of this is playing out perfectly as it should. To embrace my imperfections, because Lord knows I have many....And finally, to live my dash in loving service, because I truly believe that the more loving that we extend into this world, the more that comes back to us in return....

I’m holding in my loving today for me, for all of you and especially for Katie.

How are you living yours?

My past two months in lines...

It has been two months since Jonny and I broke up – here is a little of what I’ve been up to and how I’ve been doing since then:

I moved back into my parent’s house, and this time not for a few weeks, but for several months at least.

I love them and appreciate their home – but at age 28, at times it feels a bit overwhelming.  It definitely hit me that I'm not going to Colorado, or back to Oaxaca for that matter.  I miss Oaxaca.

I still haven’t fully unpacked from Mexico and that disorganization screams at me from every nook and cranny.

I’ve cried everyday since July 24th.

Some days the tears run gently down my cheeks, other days they escape out like a waterfall as my stomach heaves in and out grasping for air, and sometimes they fall somewhere in the middle – a brief cry that lasts a few moments and then ends as quickly as it came.

I have discovered that my tears bring forth a sense of vulnerability and so I no longer try to hide them, it doesn’t matter when or where, I just let them come.

These tears bring forth a vulnerability in others as well, as I think they make people’s hearts soften just a little.

I've started reading countless "self-help" books.

I haven't finished one of them.  Maybe thats part of my problem.... But I mean, come on, does anyone ever really finish reading those things?

I’ve dreamt of Jonny almost every single night.  Sometimes Tyler sneaks into those dreams too – that’s when things get really crazy.  It appears that the grief from both of these situations is overlapping.

I spent a week in Philadelphia for work and was miserable the entire time.

It was there where I felt incredibly lonely and when I realized how grateful I am to be going through this loss close to home where I can lean on my family and friends.

I went to San Francisco twice for work.

The first time was so hard.  The second time was still hard, but was not quite as bad - because I made a new friend out of one of my colleagues.

My colleague and I laughed a lot.  I forgot how good it feels to laugh and laugh and laugh.  It was so healing, and by the end of the trip, after multiple days of giggles and jokes, I felt a little lighter.

A month ago I started running again.

I bought new running shoes because my old ones had holes in them.  It was a good purchase.  New things in my life are welcomed.

I’ve been to the chiropractor many times.

The acupuncturist too.

And massage therapy.

And Yoga.

Anything to help heal my body and emotions naturally.

I refuse to go to my M.D. – as I know she will only give me drugs.  I will not take drugs right now.

I will heal naturally.

I swam as much as I could before it got too cold.  Water is healing.

So are friends, family and hugs.

I’ve received so many sweet cards and prayers from friends and family.  They made me feel loved and special – thank you.  Prayers and love are still welcomed.

I've seen two different therapists and I’m not too fond of either of them.

Today I told my therapist that I already know everything that she is telling me, so what’s the point of me being there?

Hmm....maybe you should watch your ego Storm….

But then I had a breakthrough.

I realized that I no longer have to be a victim in this – that I can indeed regain some of my power.

I gave Jonny back some of his power today – and I took some of mine back as well.

It was effing hard – but I did it.

Maybe therapy is better for me than I realize…

Maybe J will return to me someday and love himself and me fully.  That is still my hope.  And it hasn’t ceased in the past two months.

But if he doesn’t, I know that life will continue on…..but that my story of being a victim doesn’t need to.

I need to change my story.  I have a plan to create a new one that is empowering.

The tears continue to trickle.

The sleep doesn’t come.

Hopefully it will soon.

My life has been flipped.

Expectations have been challenged.

But I know that love will be found.

No matter what…..

Practicing random acts of kindness....

Today has been a hard day.  One of those “one step forward, and three steps back” types of days.  One of those days where prior to this morning I actually felt that I might be getting a little bit better, but then I had this crazy dream and I woke up, and I was slammed backwards and spiraled downwards again.  And I know that this blog has been real heavy as of late – but I can’t seem to lighten up – just not yet, so bear with me. 

This morning, I spoke with Jonny for over two hours and it was both glorious and heartbreaking all at the same time.  This isn’t the first time that we have spoken since our break up – not at all – we have had this strange type of communication where we talk or email occasionally, and it works for us….most of the time.  We love each other and miss each other and are craving to have the understanding that only the other one can provide.  And so we have been in contact here and there, because for the most part it feels good, and trying to cut each other out of our lives cold turkey, just wasn’t working.  But for me, our communication is almost like a drug, it is something that I crave and then when I have it, I feel oh so high, but then at times I come crashing down afterwards – which is what happened today.  And its not like these phone calls are happening all the time - because they’re not – this is the first time that we have spoken in two weeks.  And most of the time I’m fine afterwards, but today I wasn’t, because today our conversation felt somewhat normal almost, because it didn't totally revolve around our breakup.  We talked about school, work, roommates, exercising, reverse culture shock, therapy, etc. etc. we had a relatively normal conversation that was similar to what we would have held in the past and it felt good.  He understood everything, and I understood him, and I realized how much I miss that and how no one in my life here quite gets it the way that he does, and that makes it feel hard. And it is even harder that we can’t be together right now – because as much as he misses me, he knows that he needs to keep listening to that voice inside of him that keeps calling him forward, forcing him to look within.  And as hard as it is to know that, I definitely respect it, and want to continue to support him from afar and still keep that communication going once and awhile, as long as it doesn't hurt us too much.  And so while today did hurt a bit, it was good too, almost like a Catch 22...

And so that’s that and it leaves me here, not liking it, but knowing that reminiscing and flipping through old Facebook pictures of our romantic, adventurous love affair is not helping, so I’m working on letting that go and trying to hold the faith that something better is coming.  Because the thing is, I don’t understand why we have to go through this right now – but I do understand that this is happening for a reason, even though I can’t see it now.  I just hope that this reason, whatever it may be, brings forth lots of blessings and miracles to even out all of this hardship. 

However, throughout all of this hardship, I have been becoming aware of some life lessons that are being brought forward.  This week, it has been the lesson of opening my eyes to others’ pain and acknowledging that not only does it hurt, but also that it is ok for it to hurt and continue to hurt…. I’ve found that when I am grieving, everyone else’s lives seem to go on around me, and while mine does indeed go on as well, it is going on in a slower and sadder way than others.  And for the most part, I think that people seem to forget that grief is a process and that it takes a lot of time to work through and get through.  Because I have been that person, who has comforted others in the moment, but then forgot to check back in a few weeks later, because my life sped by and went on quickly and happily.  But what I am finding now is that when my friends remember to check in and send their love, and acknowledge the fact that I’m not happy yet, nor do I need to be, that it means so much to be on the receiving end of their strength and compassion. 

The other day my friend was responding to an email to me that had nothing to do about breakups or anything of the sort, and at the end of the email he wrote,  “Hope you're doing better. Every day is a challenge, I know. I know it's impossible to see the forest for the trees right now, but you will come out of this stronger and more resilient. And I know it won't affect your trusting other people going forward.”

And I read that and it just made me cry.  Knowing that he was thinking of me and sending some strength my way, meant so much.  He didn’t need to end his email with that, but he took the time to add in those four extra sentences, and those sentences made me feel loved, and I need that love right now, because I am struggling to dig it up within myself.  And so we never know when our practicing of random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty are going to mean the world to someone and help take them from going over the edge.  And not that I was about to go over the edge when I read his email that night, but I was struggling, and he helped to bring me out of the aloneness and pull me back to the reality of “oh right, people really do care about me.”

So my main lesson that I have taken from this week is to just keep our eyes open to how we can be there for other people and to not feel self conscious about it.  To not let those opportunities of kindness pass us by because our life is moving too quickly.  We need to remember to slow down and look around at who needs us and then give them that reassurance that we empathize with them and love them and are holding them in our hearts.  For when we do that, we become better too, and it feels good inside to be able to give of ourselves to others.  And so we must not forget.  And we must not feel like we don't know what to say or how to comfort - because we do know - we just need to listen to the wisdom of our hearts. 

And that is what I’m trying to work on right now.  Because even when I feel as if I don’t have much to give, when I do share my loving with others, it feels so good and radiates up within me as well.  So I challenge you all if you are still here reading this post, to go forward and help give love and comfort to others in need, even if it is something small, I guarantee that your words and actions will not go unnoticed, nor be forgotten.

 “Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love.” – Lao Tzu

Masking the Pain

The past few days I was on a whirl wind trip to San Francisco for work.  I had to go into our office headquarters on Thursday and Friday to handle some structural changes within ProWorld.  The actual time in the office ended up being better than expected, but leading up to it I was scared to go and really didn’t want to be there – as this office in particular really reminded me of Jonny, and everyone there still thought that we were dating and that we were living in Colorado together, and so I knew that by going in would mean having to tell people over and over again that we weren’t together.  And it did.  And it was hard.  But I survived it and managed through...though there was this small part of my ego that was frustrated that Jonny got to go to Colorado and have a fresh start where no one knows of him and me and he gets to run away from the question of “how’s Elsie?”  Because let me tell you – it is painful having to answer that question over and over again, having to explain to people that we are no longer together, that “no, I’m actually not in Colorado right now” – it all sucks, and I know it is part of this process, but part of me wishes that he would have to deal with it in a full on swing like I did these past two days – yet, I know that he never will and I guess that is ok as he is probably trying to deal with his own stuff anyway….

 So while there were some moments of San Francisco that I really enjoyed, for the most part, this was a pretty hard trip. The hardest part of this trip was in the mornings before work.  When my sadness hits, it seems to always hit me hardest in the mornings and it came in with both fists swinging when I was in San Francisco, and so for both Thurs and Fri I found myself unable to get up those mornings.  I bawled in bed as I curled into the fetal position, sobbing as my stomach heaved in and out, unable to breathe, whispering to God to help me as I felt so abandoned and alone in the emptiness of my hotel room.  The little girl inside of me didn’t like this situation and wanted so badly to be scooped up and loved.  But I realized in that moment that the only one there to love me was me.  That there was no one else who could get me out of bed besides me.  And I heard this little voice within me talking to myself, saying “Come on Elsa, you need to get up, just get dressed and go to work, you can do this…..” and I knew that I had to listen to her because that voice meant that there was still this strength within me that wouldn’t allow me to give up completely.  That voice would make me get out of bed and put on a sassy skirt and red heels, dry my eyes and apply mascara, and walk down the streets of San Francisco and into the 10th floor of that corporate office looking strong and composed.  And I did it and I think that I fooled almost everyone (and maybe even myself), to think that I was completely fine.  And it made me think about what a good actress I was that day – that no one would have imagined that only an hour before, I was crying so hard that I literally could not breathe – and then it made me wonder how many more people are out there doing the same thing, masking the pain that they are experiencing in their lives, putting on a face to make everyone think that they are ok.  I am sure there are many and that I am not the only one.  But we never know, because that inner sadness is something that we typically only experience when we are alone, and in todays world with Facebook and blogging and everything social media – we are being convinced to believe that everyone’s lives are perfect.  We are being conditioned to think that other’s lives are beautiful and flawless and oh so shiny with their happy pictures and funny statues.  And you know what I’m talking about, because I guarantee that many of you have taken a picture at one point or another with the purpose behind it being only to post it on Facebook or your blog so that others would think that your life is really great, because in that moment that picture showed that it was.  “I want people to see how happy I am, because then maybe they won’t see all of my imperfections and feelings of inadequacy.”  And I’m not saying that all pictures posted on Facebook and blogs are representing that – because many of you really are happy and that is wonderful and I am happy for you and love hearing about your lives – I know that I was in that happy place once and that most of my pictures were legitimate, but definitely not all of them, as there were also some that were trying to hide the imperfections of my life that I never wanted anyone to ever see.  But I also know that the pain, fear and aloneness that I am feeling is not unique to me.  That there are others of you walking around with the same dull, inner sadness of knowing that not everything within your life right now is as perfect as you wish it could be.

So I’m sharing my story with you today because I don’t want to hide it anymore and so that maybe by reading this you won’t feel as alone and will remember to tune into your inner voice of strength too, and really I’m writing this, because I don’t know what else to do, but I do know that I sure as hell am not going to sugar coat it anymore – as that wouldn’t be being true to who I am and what I am going through right now.  It has been over a month since our relationship ended and life is still really hard and I’m sure that it will continue to be for a while.  But I am looking forward to that day when I am truly happy again.  When I can post pictures on Facebook because happiness is my true reality, not because I want everyone to think of me as joyful when I’m really not.  I am holding onto so much faith that I will get there and that there is a bright, shining light on the other side of this dark and gloomy tunnel.  But until then, I just need to keep listening to the strength of that loving voice inside of me who continues to remind me to keep on keeping on…..well, that and continue to wear sassy outfits with red heels once and awhile, because getting double takes seems to help too….