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Every act done in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred.
— Thich Nhat Hanh
I lost my father this year. He was my hero: a truly lovely, warm, larger than life human with a heart of gold. My dad was a good father, loyal friend and, wonderful husband.
His passing made me think about grief and its important, even sacred place in our lives. I also almost immediately lost one of my best friends, a woman so good and pure, her “leaving” won’t sit well with me any time soon. The saving grace was the way she took on cancer and the inspiration she spread around all along the way. This gal-pal walked into her “liberation” brave, loving and clear — demonstrating to all of us who knew her what ‘grace under pressure’ really looks like.
But yes, we grieve. We grieve the loss of love, marriage, family, friends, beloved pets, and the list goes on.
I am the “grieving type,” if there is such a thing. When I grieve, I feel a lot and deeply, but I lean in, take it on and move through it. My goal is a clear and open heart, capable of loving more intensely each day.
As I grieve these losses, it reminds me of times past, when “learning relationships” I’ve had ended and the pain was sharp. After all, grief is grief. And even if I knew intellectually I was on path by ending this or that relationship, I needed to process my feelings around the loss and reconcile it. So, even though our dynamic didn’t evolve into marriage or a living-together situation, my experiences with such men nonetheless affected me profoundly enough for grief to naturally arise at our parting.
The fact is, I’ve discovered portions of my journey have been with men who’ve helped me heal old wounds, offered up alchemy to assist with my changing and becoming more “me”… while others have provided a core-level support, care and friendship. The benefits and growth of such relationships, however, didn’t stop the pain of separation, disappointment or loneliness when the time came to go our own ways.
If you’re grieving now or headed toward crossing that bridge yourself (or know someone who is), here are some of my strategies for grieving. They’re all based either on my own experience or the input of a great coach/therapist, conscious friends, etc.
• Read books on grieving. Good Grief Rituals by Elaine Childs-Gowell is amazing and my favorite.
• Opt for some therapist-guided grief work, either in the “talk therapy” realm (I love Imago therapy) or EMDR, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, a psychotherapy that enables people to heal from the symptoms and emotional distress that are the result of disturbing life experiences.
• Yoga (either give it a try or continue as regularly as you’re able.) After one break-up, I discovered my love of yoga (what a gift from that person!) and did a ton of it… and bawled like a baby every time I was on the mat (which, in hindsight, helped immensely.)
• Write a letter (which you won’t be mailing.) I had a long talk with each person (i.e., an inner dialogue) and wrote them cathartic, therapeutic letters. I expect my former partners in the ethers heard me, and the point was, I had a few choice words for all of them. They had all, in some way, “left” me, and I was “letting them have it” (as we say in the South.)
How you apply any of these strategies is up to you: After one deeply healing and learning relationship, I knew it needed to end, but it was still a painful decision. I decided to tackle the process like I tackle other demanding challenges: with a plan. I’m a recovering type A — we like plans, we like to beat things, and I was going to beat grief, kick its butt.
I remembered in the midst of my grieving, oddly enough, a couple of other past grief-wounds, which came roaring back on their own: the loss of my former partner to a heart attack and the subsequent aftermath, plus, quite surprisingly, the long-ago divorce from my daughter’s dad. I was grieving a trifecta, of sorts, all at once — how lovely.
And yes, I was sad, I cried, I was pissed, I was depressed, I slept, I didn’t sleep… I did my best to “be with” what I was feeling, to not discount or try to kill or numb (with alcohol, drugs, food, etc.) or run from what I was experiencing. Throughout this period, I also meditated, which helped me clear out the stress and stay as “connected” as possible. I also decided to sign up for a yoga teacher-training class, which turned out to be an incredible journey into my spirit and a far-reaching path to healing.
Let’s see… Anything else that helped me get through the grief? Yes, sometimes I watched TV, worked like a Trojan, hung out with my daughter and her family, played with my precious little grandkids, hiked with friends, wrote in my journal (I actually filled four journals), prayed on my knees, took cooking lessons, and listened to lots of music. (I realized Taylor Swift and I might be dating the same guys!)
The results? Well, I cried every single day for months. Once, I cried so hard in yoga class, the teacher came over with tissues and whispered, “It happens to all of us.” After years of all kinds of healing arts training, I’d truly come to understand the phrase: “issues in your tissues.”
During this time, I knew better than to date, because I believe everything you’ve heard about energetic resonance is true. Simply put, we draw to us the elements to help us with what we need to learn, including those resonant with “where we are” (i.e., emotionally and spiritually.)
And since I wanted to meet someone someday who identified, felt and was beyond their own grief — someone who, when the time was right, would genuinely be available (as in really “present”) and ready to meet me — I considered this painful, arduous, grieving process a sacrifice to “him.” So, for my own highest good, I took a willing, conscious break from dating.
Was I lonely? Yes. Was it painful? Yes, at times very. But each day, I felt lighter. And eventually, I woke one morning and the light was back on in my heart again. Yes, the light came back for me. As it can for you, given you’re open and willing to take some time every day to invest in “you.”
How does “no dating” relate to your “Kissing Frogs” experience? As the late Dr. Elaine Childs-Gowell, a clinical transactional analyst, suggested in her book, Good Grief Rituals, we will revisit this wounding and grief in some way, if we don’t face it and feel it. We can jump into dating with a bottle of wine to stop the pain, but the pattern stays in the psyche and body, waiting for the “new” person to trigger it.
Stop, drop and roll. Release the pain, sadness and disappointment, so you’re not carrying it forward. You and the person you’re truly meant for each deserve for your hearts to have a clean slate. Take the time and whatever measures are necessary to surrender and remove any trace of bitterness, longing or distress in your heart, so you are free to love fully again.
Grieve fully through any loss you have experienced, Intrepid One. You never know who might show up!
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Photo: Unsplash