Currently, all of my spiritual explorations seem to include some type of lesson around letting go. Now I don’t know about you, but this human item is rough. The requirement of everything seems like somehow it falls under this umbrella of detachment, unaffected, and not obsessed. Ya no.
Grief seems to be my biggest lesson in practicing this true art of finding peace in the moment of sadness. It doesn’t come instantly. In fact, it may never come at all, but I believe there to be mini moments of freedom throughout the journey. Times where the heaviness surpasses for a moment or two. Where your heart begins to skip a beat again. The sound of the birds is clear again. The beautiful things you look at become a tint more gorgeous. The thing you have let go of becomes now a memory that makes you smile.
But weathering the storm of it all is nasty. There are so many factors at play. For one my often out-of-control monkey mind doesn’t know how to STFU. Most times it drives me crazy, playing tricks on me. Telling me to hold on tighter. Don’t let go. Smother yourself into this item of business. Think over and over and over about what was or what might have been. Stuck anywhere but the present moment. An invasive and intrusive existence.
Deep down I know the freedom that comes from the exhale of letting go. Hard episodes of grief are the on-the-job training for this one. I naively thought I would have something else to talk about here but grief seems to be the main character. Our common denominator. It doesn’t go away and honestly, I am not sure I can say it gets better. It gets different and the wounds heal but the scar tissue is there, and that tissue is sensitive and tender. It doesn’t go away.
By now I assumed I would be in this part of the story where I am a walking joy reward. Satisfied, Less smug & Happier. Some days I am. But lately, it seems like everyone is dying again this time I am on the sidelines watching the death show on prime time. My people are grieving and there is nothing I can do but wait for them to return to the land of the living while their body, mind, and soul process such a tumultuous loss.
And if they are not dying they are breaking up, relapsing, losing, using, and not living. More moments of letting go to let others find their way. I think it’s all incredibly tough to maneuver. The pendulum moves in every direction until I am back at my center point. Like my friend, Liz Carey says “Find your straps.” I am often always looking for them.
Navigating all the things like a vintage pinball machine bouncing off various human things like death, breakups, burnout, rage, joy, elation, confidence, and love. I pay people to listen to me through all of my frustrations. I need 1:1 space to open up and dump all of my depth. I have so many amazing humans who support me in that.
The pain never truly goes away. Jokes on me. There will be bouts of joy and pleasure. And I can honestly say I am on a long run of joy. I have found a career path that inspires me and allows me the space to be in the community. I am grateful for every waking second I get to be on this planet. I am reconnecting back to myself and slowly making a community here in Hawaii. My peace is my hottest commodity. I celebrate the wins. Hope has returned.
But the paper cuts of grief hurt. It doesn’t seem real that someone my age tragically dies gets cancer, or takes their own life, or another person I care about moves away. When flare-ups occur I learn to slow down. Reconnect to my self-care. Make space for the emotions to come out and pray for a moment of clarity.
Life is a wild ride. Find your people, find your peace, find a good place to cry, and don’t forget to stay hydrated.
💘💘♥️💘💘