The tears move now, bubbling and gurgling up from deep inside. The last evening we shared is a memory, the memorial service is complete and people physically move back into normal routines.
For me, it is time to release the emotions as the feelings envelope me. A lapse into my old patterns showed me how I actually inflict pain and suffering with those around me in an attempt to cover up the deeply hurting spots in myself. With support from my coach, my partner and some close friends, I was deeply held, intimately seen. Feeling the pain of loss, I let others see me, with my apologies as well as my gratitude.
I slowed way, way down.
I opened my heart and allowed the anguish and grief to flow.
With defenses down and loving space, I began the gut-wrenching work of feeling.
Simple, not easy.
The raw feeling of grief, sadness and loss is uncomfortable with which to BE still. The urge to run, to hide, to lash out, to numb is still there, nudging at me. This is a gift, learning to stay present in the emotional outpouring.
There’s fear that if a friend, a mom, a daughter, a sister can pass this world so suddenly and unexpectedly, what would happen if someone else passes? We have no guarantees. A great reminder to live today in the most presence possible. I will no longer put off the connecting phone call, the hand-written note, the revealing conversation.
What if this happened to me? Facing the thoughts of my own mortality and legacy, how do I want to BE today? I have always known that I want to leave my world a better place than I found it. Now, there is a fresh vibrancy and urgency around this wish.
I still have a flood of memories that continue. Things like the little moments in the car together, planning outings with our daughters, conversations on the couch, whispered secrets, constant texting support while I navigated an emergency room in Bangkok! It feels good to remember those fun and funny parts as well!
I also have concern that I’m not “back up to speed” and want to push this process along in order to forge ahead. It is not true. It is a way of pushing my feelings aside.
So, I’m slowed down, sitting with the feelings, acknowledging my pain. I know that with deep work comes big shifts.
I wait, simply BEing.
Noticing.
Allowing.
Finding gratitude
for my support system,
for those who mirror to me my learnings,
for deep loving relationships,
for learning space and
for the healing that will arrive.