Lessons From a Year of Grief

It is hard to believe but August 7^th is the one-year anniversary of my life-partner Bill’s departure for his next big adventure. It feels like he was just here yesterday and it feels like he’s been gone forever.

The lessons are not over but here is what I have learned over the past year:

Everyone handles change at a different pace and in different ways.

I thought I knew how I would handle the profound changes that came with Bill’s death. I figured it would be similar to the ways I had handled the death of others whom I loved and who had moved on. I was wrong.  Every relationship is profoundly different and therefore the grieving is different.

So it is with any change. Be careful about saying of another, “Oh, he’ll be fine. He’s faced this kind of adversity before,” or, “She’s going to fall apart. She can’t handle this.” The truth is each change is unique and the way one handles it depends on the circumstances that are present now, not the ones that were present the last time something similar happened.

When my best friend died in a car accident, I was 17 and ill equipped to handle the torrent of deeply negative emotions that happen when one comes face-to-face with the concept of mortality. I felt suicidal. It threw me into depression and awakened my latent alcoholism. I struggled for decades to recover.

Today I am resilient. For one, I don’t make my grief worse by drinking and I am no longer depressed. Although I miss Bill like crazy, I am able to laugh and smile at the memories rather than use them as an excuse to wallow. When I do allow myself to feel the feelings, I dive into them deliberately; I don’t hide from them.  I “let it rip.”

As life marches on, the grief takes up less time and the celebration of the love we had takes up more.

The impact of change is unpredictable. You don’t know its impact until you do.

One of the biggest changes for me during Bill’s illnesses and in the year following his transition is that I decided to retire my crystal ball. I have no idea what’s going to happen until it does.

It is possible to be both extremely frightened and extremely calm.

Facing life without Bill is frightening and yet, I feel extremely calm because I know I can do this. I don’t want to but I can, and I will. So it is with any profound change—you may not want to get through it but you can, and you will.

People will abandon you in your time of need.

When change hits, it is easy to believe that you’re the one in the most pain. In the case of the death of a spouse, it’s a time when society actually allows you to be self-centered. But others are in pain, too, and sometimes they cannot face yours. They are doing everything they can to hold themselves together; they don’t have anything left to give to you. Their departure is not meant to be deliberately hurtful; it is a survival mechanism. The best thing to do is what my friend Laura recommends: in your mind shower them with roses.

People you never suspected will be extremely supportive.

I have many wonderful friends who have stood by me for decades. I also have new friends whom I have met only recently. I have always been grateful for those on whom I have depended throughout my life. They are the invisible arms that hold me.

And I have been surprised and moved by those who don’t know me as well, or to whom I am not necessarily close, who have reached out to me over the past few years while Bill was sick and after his transition.

When change hits it is often true that you will discover your biggest allies to be people whom you have never counted on before but who “show up” when you need them most.

During this profound time of change, I have felt your presence and your love. You have helped more than you will ever know. The very best thing I can wish for you is that you experience the same level of support in your own life.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Joyful News in a World Gone Mad

In July of last year, I dedicated a blog to my friend Laura and her journey with pancreatic cancer, one of the deadliest forms of cancer there is. In that blog, What Would You Pay? I asked the question, “What would you pay for more time with your loved ones?”

YOU ROCK!!! Because you gave so generously, for a year Laura has been able to continue the life-saving treatment at the Block Center for Integrative Health in Skokie, IL. Going for treatment there is no small feat. Laura and her husband Ed, both teachers, live in Ferndale, California. Just to get to the airport in Sacramento is a FIVE-HOUR DRIVE! Then it takes TWO FLIGHTS to get to Chicago (earlier this year that included WINTER! Yikes!) It’s an all day journey that is sort of okay on the way to but the way back? Remember, she’s been treated with chemotherapy and then has to take this long journey after. This is someone who really wants to live.  And she is often alone-her husband has to work.

Because of your generosity, last month Laura was present to dance with her son at his wedding. As if that weren’t joyful enough, just yesterday she welcomed her first grandchild, Grayson who was so warm and cozy in his mommy’s belly, we thought he’d NEVER come out (40 weeks!!). He is the son of Laura’s daughter Lily and her husband Joe.

Will you help Laura to continue? She has insurance but it costs another $2800/month for the expenses related to travelling for treatment (alas, this treatment isn’t offered any closer to where she lives).

I am asking everyone to donate the price of a Starbucks coffee, a glass of wine or a beer (whatever your thing is).  There is no such thing as a small donation. Every single dollar is appreciated and adds up!!! All I ask is that you do it now—while you are inspired—and not put it off. (If you’re like me, you have good intentions but life gets in the way!)

Here are 3 ways to donate:

To donate by check, please make it out to:

Laura Grant Cancer Fund

PO Box 1313 Ferndale CA  95536

To donate through PayPal

Lrgrant23@gmail.com

OR – I have started a CrowdTilt campaign:  https://www.crowdtilt.com/campaigns/laura-grantthriving-because-of-you

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!

Zen Thing

This morning I saw this posting on Facebook. I liked it so much I re-posted it. And then (here’s a concept for you) I decided to actually TRY it!

I had gotten a late start to my day so I was already feeling behind which is ironic since I work for myself. But old habits die hard, don’t they? One of my teachers has finally convinced me that you cannot break a habit; you can only replace it with a different one, hopefully one that serves you better.

So I decided to break—er—replace my habit of frantic activity that always includes multi-tasking.

The first thing I tried on the list was “Make cleaning and cooking become meditation.” So, instead of turning on music while I cooked breakfast, I decided to simply cook. That incorporated the second thing I tried: “Do one thing at a time.” It was pretty amazing. As I cut up the spinach for my omelet, I was thinking about how grateful I was for the spinach and the knife. I became absorbed in watching the knife slice through the spinach. Then I decided to add onions and basil to the frying pan and thought to myself, “Look at me! Cooking with herbs and spices.” (I only recently became what anyone would define as a cook.) Then I remembered I had gotten the eggs at the local farmers market and was pleased about that.

While all this Zen mindfulness was going on, my Monkey Mind was certainly trying to distract me.  While waiting for the frying pan to heat up, I had to stop myself from checking my emails. Then I had a couple of ideas for a project I was working on and, instead of rushing to write them down, I pulled my mind back to the task at hand.

I applied the same principles to cleaning up the apartment with slightly less successful results but I kept at it. For some reason, being in motion while I was cleaning fed my Monkey Mind. It was almost as if it was saying to me, “You’re moving fast. Yay! Let’s do lots of things at once!” I would have done well to try, “Do it slowly and deliberately.”  Next time.

Instead I tried: “Do it completely.” Usually, when I am straightening up a room, there will come a time when something in the first room must be moved to a second room where it belongs. I then end up working on the second room before completing the first. I’ve always told myself it’s more efficient this way and maybe it is. But it is not nearly as satisfying. A few things done partially does not generate energy the way completing one thing does.

And so it goes. Even as I sit here writing to you, my Monkey Mind wants me to stop and check my emails, play a game on my phone or check my bank balance. It’s amazing to observe.

Here is the important part. I feel noticeably calmer than I usually do at this time of the day. There are more things on the list I am going to put into play but there’s no hurry, is there? I am happy with my infant habits and that is enough for today. And so now I will try the next thing: ”Put space between things.”

I’d love to hear from you about ways you practice these principles. If you experiment with them after reading this, let me know how it goes!

When it’s Not YOUR Change

It occurs to me that much of the change we deal with isn’t even happening to us but to those around us.  Marriages, births, job changes, illness and death all may impact us but are not happening directly to us.  This is when I find the Serenity Prayer so calming:

Much of the frustration and emotional pain I’ve experienced is because I lacked the wisdom to know the difference. I remember so clearly the advice my friend Gayna gave me, even as she lay dying of cancer. She said, “All anyone can be for another is a witness. We all need a witness, someone who sees our life and is happy we were born.”

I was very happy Gayna was born and I reflect on her sage advice often, especially when someone I care about is struggling. Usually they are wrestling with something I cannot help with. Sure, I can provide emotional support, prayers or even a hot-cooked meal but beyond that, when any of us is faced with an obstacle in the road, it is a solitary journey. Perhaps that’s why we want so desperately to help—we relate to the struggle our loved one is facing because we’ve had similar struggles. The facts may be different but the experience is the same.

And maybe, just maybe that’s why we feel so darned comfortable commiserating about the bad things in life but decidedly uncomfortable sharing our joys. It’s funny. We are convinced people can relate to the negative but fear that, if we share the positive, it will somehow alienate us from those who may be struggling as we are dancing.

My friend Nancy is a friend with whom I share both my struggles and my triumphs and, when I do I am never self-conscious about where she is in her journey. I know that she is always happy for me when things are going well, just as I exalt in her good news when she shares it. It is a friendship that has withstood the test of time (over three decades now) and I know it’s because she is my witness and I hers. Ours is an intimacy rarely experienced. There is no envy or recrimination or negative judgment. She is a safe “space” for me and I for her.

Do you have a witness like Nancy? Someone who would cheer you on in a race even as she’d been sidelined with a twisted ankle? Are you that for someone else?  If so, take some time to appreciate the rare gift you have. Close your eyes and send that person love and, when you open your eyes, reach out to them to let them know. Maybe you can send this blog so s/he will understand how you feel.

And if you don’t have someone like Nancy, pray for the courage to change that. Start singing this song as a prayer:  Can I Get a Witness?

Remember, you get more of what you focus on!

Whole Lotta Changing Going’ On!

Lots of change going on in my life, how about you?

I’m learning to live alone or, more specifically, without Bill. I am re-launching my business. And, as many of you know, in February I moved back to Phoenix and am slowly reemerging into this community.
It’s a mixed bag but I don’t think my situation is unique. Most of us are going through continual changes, some big, some small. What I have discovered is that the size of the change doesn’t usually matter but our approach to it does.

If we react to change from a victim’s standpoint, then getting a hangnail can make us think our world is falling apart. And because the Law of Attraction dictates that “you get more of what you focus on,” then focusing on how the world is out to get you will bring to you more evidence that you are right; the world actually IS out to get you!

Years ago I heard a psychologist speak at a conference. His job was to mediate employee complaints. He said something that really caught my attention, “When you react to a situation, the adult has vacated your body and has been replaced by a small child.”

Think about that.

When we are in react mode, doesn’t it feel like that? We all have different styles:  some pout, some shout, some throw things about (hey, I’m channeling Dr. Seuss!) but it’s all childlike behavior and not constructive.

This psychologist went on to say, “When we respond to a situation, the adult is in control.”  When our “adult” is in control, then things can get resolved.

Make no mistake there are days when my child comes out in full force. I have temper tantrums inside the walls of my home. I sob. I complain, “Why me?”  But when the adult re-emerges, what she says to me is, “Why not you? Why should you be exempt from pain?”

It seems to me that all painful change has to do with love. The more we love something or someone, the greater the pain when it’s over. Whether it’s a job we love that changes into something we don’t, a home we lose, financial security we grew accustomed to that is gone, or a pet that grows old before our eyes, it all centers around what we love.  The greater the loss, the greater the pain. I don’t know about you but I wouldn’t have missed those times for the world. As much as it hurts to be without (fill in the blank) wasn’t it wonderful while it lasted?  And, as a friend reminded me when I suffered a great loss, “You attracted it once, you can attract it again.”

But not while I am being a victim and not while I am reacting. The only solution for replacing someone or something you love is to find another outlet for your love. It is the pain of not loving that leaves us the most victimized.

Maya Angelou passed away this week and with her, a great talent. Her legacy lives on in her wonderful words. She lived a life of extraordinary success and love, and unspeakable pain. In fact, her pain was so unspeakable that, as a child, she went for several years without uttering a word. She is a living example of someone who knew how to Dance With Change.