Bouncing Back.

Rochester, VT –  When Words Count Writers Retreat

I am back in Vermont working on my book.  Yesterday was a beautiful day and this morning I awoke to a blizzard.  I remember years ago saying, “The only way I will ever complete a book is to go to New England in the dead of the winter, rent a house with no television, and have enough food to last me (because I’m definitely not up to braving the cold). Then I’ll have to write just to amuse myself.”  Where I am, in this circa 1850’s inn isn’t quite that, but it’s close. I didn’t bring a car here so there is no going to town because I MUST have a latte. There is a TV but I am deliberately avoiding it.  And meals are provided so I won’t go hungry (quite the opposite, in fact.)

I am missing Bill. He would love it here; there are ski slopes nearby. Ironically, the topic of my book is emotional resilience and there has never been a more difficult time for me to feel that I have such a thing. But I do. And so do you.

As people tell me their stories—in person, by telephone and in emails—I am in awe of what we can endure. What is even more awe inspiring are those who don’t simply endure but come through hardship and, at the end, have a smile on their faces. Those are the ones who will just not stay down, no matter what happens.  Then there are those who never seem to know there is anywhere but down.  I have been both and in my book I explore what happened that made me take a turn toward the light.

Today’s harsh weather has me wondering whether environment has anything to do with it. Not with causing a negative outlook but in keeping us there. I was raised in a suburb of Boston and, as a child faced some difficult situations that drew me into depression. Years later, I attributed my bad disposition to the fact that in the unpredictable New England weather, I was often cold. A friend of mine would joke,  “You mean all you needed was an electric blanket?” Now we are aware of SAD (seasonal affective disorder) that has to do with deprivation of sunlight and it’s affect on mood. There are even special electrical lights for treatment.  Perhaps I had SAD and it exacerbated my depression.

What interests me is that (and this is a generality) people who live in the harsher, four season weather seem to be more conservative in their personalities and outlooks and those who live where there are no harsh winters seem to have sunnier outlooks, if you’ll pardon the pun. In New England, we could trace it back to our stern, Puritan ancestors but I wonder if fighting the elements leaves us too tired to smile very often.  I have noticed that, in the harsher weather places, there are more smiles in the summer.  And maybe the happiest of those who live in sunny climes are the transplants who left the cold to come to the sun.

What do you think?  Do you think the weather has an impact on disposition or is it more cultural?  If not weather, what do you think makes the difference between those who come through hardship and find joy again, and those who never seem to recover?

Seven months after Bill’s death, I have good days and bad. What continues to amaze me is how quickly I can bounce back.  Because I was simply unable to do that as a youth, I am grateful for that ability now.  Maybe it’s Nature’s way. As we get older, we face more loss and we need more emotional resilience. If you have it, and I’ll bet you do, put it on your gratitude list. It is a great gift.

Resurrection

So here I am in Phoenix, lock stock and barrel.  Moving is one of those really big life changes that brings on all sorts of unexpected emotions.  I’ve moved a lot in my life; it’s part of my adventurous nature. I’m actually pretty good at it, logistics wise, and I’m usually good at it emotionally, as well.  This time is different. This time I am “starting over,” without my best friend/soul mate Bill.  I have moved to a city wherein we have no shared memories and that’s kind of weird.  Also, I moved in one day before the six-month anniversary of his transition and that unleashed a lot of grief.

So what to do? I am someone who believes that you get more of what you focus on and here I am focused on my loss.  There are many schools of thought about this ranging from the oft-quoted “Five Stages of Grief” by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross (which, as it turns out she developed as a way to have a conversation about grief, not as a roadmap) to the simpler philosophy, “Life is for the living.”

There is also much theory tossed around about the negative impact of “stuffing your emotions” which often ends in the warning, “Pay now, or pay later.”

My friend Sharon who spent time on the phone with me yesterday in response to my cry for help pointed out that much of the way we grieve is cultural, not necessarily natural. In many societies human death is accepted as part of the circle of life. They would no more grieve over a human death than that of an ant (this is my example, not hers). I’m sure that shocks us Westerners. We seem to spend a lot of time dwelling in the negative around the topic of death. Ironically, we also seem to wallow in the negative around the topic of life.

I am gravitating toward remembering and indulging my own beliefs in this arena: whenever I experience negative emotions, it is because my Inner Guide has separated from me because She doesn’t agree with what I am focused on. It is that separation from Source that feels so awful. And it does—feel awful.

I believe that Source means for us to live joyous lives, no matter the circumstances. Most of us have heard the comparison of the happy peasant and the miserable King.  It all comes down to focus. What do I choose to focus on?

Sharon, who is one of the wisest women I know boiled it down to the words of that brilliant philosopher Dr. Seuss:

Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.

I have decided to smile. And, to celebrate my return to my center, I shall eat green eggs and ham for breakfast!

Post-Holiday Blahs

The holidays are over and of that I am glad. These were my first without Bill and the ache in my heart was ever present. Everyone handles grief differently. I couldn’t bear the thought of being around people who were concerned about me. I didn’t want to pretend I was okay and I would have felt the need to do that to avoid ruining the festivities for others.

So I spent the holidays at the When Words Count Retreat Centerin Vermont and it turned out to be an excellent choice.  In my last blog of 2013, I told you I went there to write. I also said it was not a workshop and that is true, to an extent. What I didn’t know is that Steve Eisner and Jon Reisfeld, the two men who run the center and who are writers themselves, dine with the writers every night. We brainstorm the projects we’re working on and after dessert we retire to the Gertrude Stein salon to read pages aloud to each other. As fate would have it, I was the only writer in residence for the first five days so I had these wonderful teachers all to myself. Their input has turned my book about change from a strictly “how to” book into a book that includes the stories of how I learned to be resilient in the face of many difficult changes. Now, instead of feeling like the book is something I just need to get down on paper, I am excited about the project.

The retreat is over and I am facing my first calendar year without Bill. I am slightly frozen in place. There is such a strong part of me that doesn’t want to “move on.” Even the phrase brings tears to my eyes.

So what does one do when frozen? The answer, as it turns out, is to move, even if ever so slightly. Yesterday was a day when all I wanted to do was to sit and play games on my iPhone. Now, if it made me feel good to do that, I would have done it. However, when I use games to avoid doing something productive, I get a feeling in my gut that makes me feel slightly sick. I don’t like that feeling so I wanted to do something else but I just couldn’t face doing anything big.

It was then that I remembered what my friend Allen taught me to do in this situation. Just do something, no matter how small, that makes you feel productive. So I got up off the couch and pulled together a box of items I wanted to mail out. Once I did that, I looked on my “to do” list and made a phone call that was one of the items there. And, wouldn’t you know, I didn’t ever get to my writing (which is my priority) but I did have a productive day. And today, I am writing!

We all have those days when we can’t seem to muster up motivation. Sometimes there’s a “legitimate” reason, like grief, and sometimes we have no idea why we are blue. I have used Allen’s wise advice many times over the years. Just do something, no matter how small, that makes you feel productive. If you are facing the post-holiday blahs, or any blues for that matter, I invite you to use this wonderful trick. It is the emotional version of one of Sir Isaac Newton’s Laws of Motion:  a body in motion tends to stay in motion; a body at rest tends to stay at rest.

Or, as the lemurs sang in the animated film Madagascar, “You’ve got to move it, move it, move it.”

Holiday Greetings & A Gift

I am visiting with friends and family in my hometown of Rockland, Mass. I arrived several days ago just barely ahead of one storm and this morning woke up to another three inches of snow. While I enjoy the idea of a white Christmas, I am also being reminded, in a very dramatic way, why I never liked winter here. IT IS ICY!!! and SLIPPERY! and a BALMY 26 DEGREES!  But very pretty.

In this, my last blog for 2013, I want to extend a heartfelt thank you for your support over the last few years when Bill and I were side-by-side, fighting for his health with everything we had.  When he was first diagnosed with cancer, I thought I might have him for maybe six months. He fooled ‘em all and lived for 28!  That’s my guy!

Speaking of fooling them all, you may recall my blog of July 9^th, What Would You Pay? about our friend Laura Grant who was Bill’s “cancer buddy.” We met her and her husband Ed at UCSF on the day both she and Bill found out they had pancreatic cancer.

I am happy to tell you that Laura is doing well. Before I traveled here, I accompanied her to the Block Center, the medical group that kept Bill alive eight months longer than anyone anticipated.  The trip served two purposes: I wanted to support Laura and also to thank the wonderful staff who took such good care of Bill.  It was a tear-filled reunion but very important for my healing and I think theirs. What a tough job they have!

Because it’s such a sad holiday for me this year, I am spending Christmas and New Year’s at a Writer’s Retreat in Vermont working on my book about change. My family understands it’s what I need and are supportive. It’s not a workshop. Their claim to fame is that they do everything for you (cook, make your bed, etc.) so all you have to do is write.  This will be a first for me: spending 10 days completely focused on writing. It will be interesting to see if I have the temperament for it.  And let’s not forget, the famous Bing Crosby movie White Christmas took place in Vermont!

My gift to you is a “re-gift” and given to you out of my own gratitude.  You may have seen this video already. If you have, it’s worth revisiting. If you have not seen Gratitude by Louis Schwartzberg, you are in for a rare treat. It starts a little slow but stay with it. You’ll be glad you did!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXDMoiEkyuQ

Here’s to a wonderful Season for all and a very Happy New Year!

Green Acres Revisited

Proving once again, that life is full of funny twists and turns, I texted some girlfriends of mine the other day to say, “A year ago I was sailing with Bill aboard a luxury yacht in the Mediterranean. This morning I retrieved eggs from a chicken coop.”

I have been spending weekends at my granddaughter’s house in Watsonville, CA and it is out in farm country. Her mother is a passionate gardener, with a large, enclosed area where she grows tomatoes, squash, lemons, apples, pumpkins and lettuce. And my granddaughter has two hens.

The funny thing is that I don’t prefer one lifestyle over the other. The only reason I might prefer the yacht is that Bill was with me. Now that he’s gone, my life continues to be flavored by what I choose to focus on. And, when I’m in farm country, I focus on the beauty of the rolling hills and the lush crops. (There was one day when they were fertilizing the crops that was a “focus challenge” but I found that breathing through a handkerchief is a big help!)

When your life is in flux, which mine most definitely is, the ability to choose what you focus on is the best tool in your kit. If I allow my mind to get ahead of itself, projecting into an unknown future, I feel despair. If instead, I focus on the good people and wonderful surroundings, then I can relax and breathe again.

Grief is teaching me lessons, important ones. For one, life is short. We all say it but, when you have lost a loved one, you understand that old saying on a much different level.

Being rich doesn’t solve anything except being poor.  Bill and I had many wealthy friends. They have the same personal issues as those of us who are not wealthy and I am here to tell you, it is not the bed of roses that I had imagined. Probably the most difficult thing to face when you are wealthy is that money cannot solve everything. When you don’t have it, you imagine that it can but it’s a fantasy. Bill would have sold everything he had to beat his cancer. It would not have mattered.

Love is all that matters. It’s the only thing you can take with you because love is energy, not material.  Bill was sent onto his next adventure filled with the love of so many whose lives he touched.

So thank you all for the love you have so freely expressed in the emails you have sent. I have bundled it all and keep it in a little knapsack close to my heart.

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http://silverspeaks.com/blogs/2013/07/what-would-you-pay-2/

Laura was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the same day as Bill. That’s how we met her and Ed—in the waiting room at UCSF. Many of you who donated to Laura’s cancer fund have asked how she is doing. The answer is that she is still fighting the good fight (31 months and counting!). She has been in treatment at the Block Center in Skokie, Il thanks to donations from wonderful people like you. She spoke at Bill’s Celebration of Life service in August and it was moving.  And every time I am with the two of them, my love for them and their spirit grows.

Tuesday Laura went in for surgery to remove a large mass. In the room with her was a crowd of cheering angels—those here on earth and those who have transitioned. I told her Bill would be in the surgical suite encouraging the doctor to do her very best work.  Well, it worked. She got through the surgery with flying colors. All prayers and white light for her recovery are welc

Hugs and loads of love,

Silver