I’ve been in a time of not doing for a while now, and I’ve struggled against it, wanting to do rather than be. During this time I was a presenter at a business retreat that was planned way before I entered this space, and it came together seamlessly. This was confirmation that,
when I’m working from my strength and my gifts, flow happens and my to do list gets done.
After the end of my yearlong quest, when I stated that I was done efforting, my body took this proclamation seriously. I’ve felt most like myself these past few weeks sitting in my heart and waiting for inspiration to arise rather than pushing it to arise. That has led to major triggering on all sides, from everywhere. What came out of that was the awareness of a very young part of myself that needed attention. Until now she hasn’t felt safe enough to let me know her needs. It was in the back and forth of surrendering to what I know I needed, slowing down, and being willing to figure it out so I could move past this (whatever this is or was), that she found the space to emerge. I’ve known about her for a long time and every time I’ve noticed her in the past, she retreated. She’s ready for my undivided attention and I’m ready to give it to her. I’m asking her to help me play. I’m letting her know that as a child she’s not responsible for some of the things she’s been trying to take on, like keeping me safe. There was a time when I needed, and she needed, to be kept safe. Now I know how to keep myself safe so she can play.
I’ve been searching for play in my life for a really long time.
The kind of play when you lose track of all time, blissful play that was never really a part of my life, maybe on a few occasions, but not on a regular basis. Sometimes I think its ironic that I came to where I am today through my grief journey, that the death of my daughter provided the initiation I needed to fully take a stand for myself. To say yes to stepping fully into who I am in each moment, knowing that I dance on the edge of comfort and discomfort each time I take another step into my self, into my truth, into my aligned heart.
Sometimes I am dismayed that it took so long to get here. I am 65, how can I still have fun? (I’m sure part of this feeling is from the birthday card my dad gave me when I turned 30. The message said, “You are 30. You will never again have fun.”) I know that was my father’s sense of humor and it wasn’t true. I did, however, think of that message whenever I questioned some of my life’s lessons.
Yes, my physical age can give me a start sometimes, but I’m not going to let limiting thoughts and beliefs shape my life.
It’s not always easy to be in a place of being instead of doing, until I surrender to the present moment and listen deeply to my heart. I’m reminded why my business is Being with Grief, not doing grief.
One of the questions I am asked most often is, do I think I will ever stop grieving. My answer is no. My grief may shift and change; no doubt it will continue to change me; it will never end though because Leah is not here. That also doesn’t mean I won’t feel joy.
I am joyful, I am grateful, and I am sad, I feel sorrow, I feel pain. I’ve discovered I can feel all of it. One of my biggest discoveries is that when I allow myself to feel the sorrow exactly as it show up,
It leads me to the sacred ground where joy is also possible.
I don’t know how it works. I’ve tried to figure it out. My head has analyzed it, sliced and diced it a thousand ways, and I still don’t know how it works. I do know that it does, when I come into my heart with all of my feelings I have a greater capacity for joy, for gratitude, for love.
Do you feel the same way? I’d love to hear from you.