Thursday, March 19, 2020

We need space…

…for loss…

As the world feels like it's been turned upside down, we are coming together as a society even though we can't actually come together. And I am eternally grateful. So, so grateful.

Music has been shared.
Ideas have been gathered.

We have served with kindness.
We have tried to find another way to live, communicate, and thrive.

There is encouragement.
There is an underlying level of hope.

There is also loss.
So. Much. Loss.

But is there space to express our loss?
Are we giving ourselves permission to feel the grief over the immense loss we are all experiencing?

Are we deciding that there are lesser and greater levels of loss and ours isn't enough loss to count?
Is there shame-filled self-talk creating untruths that we are believing about our personal loss?


If it's important to you - IT MATTERS - period. And the loss of whatever mattered to you should have a space to be expressed.

But we're not expressing it.

We are trying to "stay positive" - "express gratitude that it's not worse" - "help our fellow men" - and it's good - that's all really, really good.

Everything has a light and shadow to it: rain floods and gives life, snow crushes and is full of play, sun burns and breathes life into the earth.

If we fail to acknowledge the shadow of things, then I feel that we miss an important piece of the learning. We miss the opposition that allows the light to really shine and stick where it needs to.


My Shadows. My Loss.

I didn't realize that the daily silence of my semi-empty-nester home was actually feeding my soul and helping me to calm the constant pull of my brain to keep DOING. Do more, do better, do quicker, do smarter - so much doing in my brain that was being quieted by the silence and the ability to hear the beating of my heart.

I was listening to my heart, changing patterns, learning, modifying my thoughts to be more inline with what my heart was telling me. It was working and I was discovering the methods I need to thrive instead of just survive.

Now my house is full. It's noisy. There is panic. There are unknowns.
Now my brain is full. It's noisy. There is panic. There are unknowns.

I love my people with my whole heart. I'm glad they are happy and safe here and that this is a place they can always be themselves. They get what they need; love, affection, humor, acceptance. I am grateful -- really, truly grateful.

But there is also loss. Great loss. I've had to find a different way to listen to my heart. I've had to adapt and struggle to not revert back to old patterns of behavior that stifle my thrive - behaviors that ignore my heart.

I have to work so much harder for the silence that was a gift just a few moments ago. It's tiring. It's hard work. My desire and need for silence is important to me - IT MATTERS! And now there is loss.


My heart was crushed when my sweet daughter came in sobbing because her wedding plans were blown up. She had worked so hard to conquer her anxiety and create an event that would bring her joy. She had prayed and asked her heart hard questions. She had discovered what she needed and had bravely asked for those pieces to be present. She made choice after choice after choice. She did so great!! She was proud of herself and she had triumphed over her own shadows.

And in a moment, everything changed and all of those previous painstaking choices were null and void -- as though they didn't matter -- her efforts and learning didn't matter. Instead, there was constant change, chaos, and uncontrollable limbo. So many unanswered questions, so many details to change, so many decisions to remake -- so much complete loss.

Through tears she said, "I didn't know I wanted to be the center of attention for just one moment." This coming from my shy, anxiety-filled daughter who usually stays comfortably in the shadows. Oh how she deserves that moment in the spotlight!! The celebration of a marriage is important - it shines brightly - love flows freely -- she wanted to be wrapped up in that shine and love.

My Mother heart is breaking for her and her real, true loss. This is important to her - IT MATTERS! It matters without comparison to any other loss that anyone else has.


I was given a hard challenge by my therapist to learn how to play. To discover play that does not have the hat of "taking care of others" or "the easiest/cheapest plan" or "we'll do what's best for the group" -- but personal play that was just for me, Mary. Not Mom Mary, or Daughter Mary, or Wife Mary, or Helper Mary, or Fixit Mary - just Mary, the one with the dimples, dark hair, and a heart that is learning to live.

I didn't know how I was going to accomplish this - too much, too overwhelming, too many choices.

Then a miracle - an inspired friend, who was also being brave, said - "Do you want to meet me in New York?"

I LOVE the idea of wandering the streets of New York and watching the people. Figuring out how it all moves in sync, how it all connects together to form this rush of energy. I LOVE the art of Broadway, the talent both on the stage and behind the scenes. It's fascinating. It's PLAY.

Could I? Should I? My heart leapt at the thought -- and then my head started making 1,000 excuses as to why I couldn't and shouldn't. I struggled with myself, my head overpowering what my heart needed -- and then, finally, trusting my heart to know what I needed to heal -- and learn to play.

As I was checking the flights and agonizing over the choices, I kept backing out and trying again - backing out and trying again. Keep breathing Mary, you got this!

The tickets got purchased, the hotel was booked, and the show tickets bought. Whew!! I was so EXCITED!!! I was DOING THIS!! I was PLAYING!!

Never had I gone anywhere where I only had to take care of myself, where there was no one else to keep track of, no one else to have to please with my choices. My companion is a capable adult whose knowledge, experience, and friendship, would only add to the joy of this opportunity to play. What an incredible gift I was giving myself - I was trying on this PLAY thing full out - I'm all in - watch out NY, I'm on my way!!! So much excitement!!

Then there was loss.

Loss I can't control. Loss that didn't ask my permission. Loss that didn't offer up any other non-loss options. Loss with no choice.

I had worked so hard - listened to my heart - stopped my head from winning - I was choosing Mary.

I WAS CHOOSING MARY!!

I have to say that louder for the voices in the back of my head that are now screaming -- I TOLD YOU SO - NOT THE RIGHT CHOICE - YOU DON'T DESERVE THIS.

This loss instantly feels so defeating -- like "you shouldn't even have tried." The loss is getting louder by the day and I need a space to give it a voice so it can lose some of it's deafening and defeating power.

I am so incredibly SAD about this trip!! I really, really want to take off all of the hats that Mary wears and just be herself for four days. I want to discover who she is when she gets to thrive and choose for herself. To walk through an airport at whatever pace I want. Stop and look at the stores and the signs and the people who have stories and lives. Who is Mary when there are no expectations and no obligations other than breathing and soaking in the life around her? Answering that question is important to me - IT MATTERS!!

So much loss. It's heartbreaking and soul crushing.


So do me, and yourself, a favor - before you tell me that there will be more silence, the wedding will be fine, and the trip can be taken in the future…

Feel my loss. Feel the loss of my sweet daughter. Feel the loss of the high school seniors. Feel the loss of the kindergarten children. Feel the loss of jobs. Feel the loss of life. Feel the loss of security. Feel the loss of normalcy. Feel the loss of comfort. Feel the loss of choice.

Take a moment and give yourself permission to feel your own loss. They are great. There are things that are important to you - THEY MATTER! Your loss matters and I'm sorry you are hurting.

Lean into the loss - feel the pain - understand it's depth. It's ok - you won't drown, you won't get lost in it, and it won't stay too long.

Because there is light.

There is light in a new day. There is light in breath. There is light in a different choice.

There is light in a new plan for play in New York. There is light in a smaller wedding that will still celebrate this sweet couple. There is light in finding silence on the back porch.

By giving space for loss - there is also more space for light.

No comments:

Post a Comment