Hang in there: finding solace amidst the fallout

Leave a comment

It’s okay if you fall down and lose your spark.
Just make sure that when you get back up,
you rise as the whole damn fire. ~ Colette Werden

The physiological responses that accompany love and heartache can be similar. For example, a new relationship often triggers the pulse to race, or butterflies to replace hunger pangs. Heartache, too, can cause the heartbeat to fluctuate, or a loss of appetite. I find myself seized by the latter illustration—tears swift to dampen my lashes, my belly hollow. During a recent trip, I picked up a silver kitty pendant that hangs onto the delicate chain by its front legs—a twofold reminder: that life is fragile, and to ‘hang in there.’ On the heels of my post, ‘Letting go…,’ I wear this talisman for solace, of sorts, amidst the fallout of a severed friendship. My spark(le) may have dimmed, but soon I will fan the flames and ignite my passion ablaze.

Where do you find solace within the heartache?

Photo source: sanctuaryspring.com.

Letting go doesn’t mean loving less

Leave a comment

 

At times, it feels like our journey through this one life is fraught with trials and setbacks more so than smooth sailing. Times when we could use an encouraging word, a hug or a shoulder on which to cry. A friend of mine is going through such a time and, earlier this week—despite my attempt to practice mindfulness (see ‘A month of mindfulness…’)—I allowed frustration over a situation out of my control to instead control my tongue. Unfortunately, this resulted in words spouted off between us, words that stung, words that could not be retracted. And, ultimately, a falling out. Although I tried to right it, the damage had been done and I realized the only thing I could do was to let go. To give my friend space. It doesn’t mean I love any less; it means I love enough to allow someone else to take my place. To pick up where I left off.

How do you know when it’s time to let go?

Photo courtesy of usamedeniz at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

A lesson in irony: in memory of Rob

Leave a comment

 

Life can prove ironic in the simple, the mundane. And in the crushing blows, the fracture between hope and fate. This week, I discovered that Marlene, a cashier at my neighborhood grocery store, had been writing letters to Rob—a cashier who was diagnosed in 2015 with stage 3 lung cancer. I haven’t seen Rob since we spoke in August 2016, right before his birthday trip to Hawaii, and then, upon his return from the tropical getaway, he took an extended leave from his job to tackle one of more significance: the fight for his life. Just the other day, I wrote a letter and brought it to the market the next morning for Marlene to include in her envelope. As I concluded my shopping, another cashier greeted me and I knew, without words, that Rob’s fight was over. Read more about Rob:  ‘Slow down, listen more…,’ ‘How (not) to be miserable…’ and ‘Borrowed time…’ And don’t wait for Someday.

How is irony at work in your life?

Dealing with loss: a new way to approach closed doors

Leave a comment

 

Open doors are often viewed as gateways to fresh opportunities. Conversely, we might assume a closed door denotes an end. However, I read an article recently that describes doors in an expanded light: closed doors can also signify new beginnings. When a metaphorical door is closed in our lives, and we accept it as our new reality, we grant ourselves permission to grow in other areas. Perhaps you’ve experienced a closed door through the loss of a friendship, hope or health. Rather than mourn the end, I believe it’s healthier to carve out space to reconnect with or rediscover the spark of your truest self. This may be revealed in your sacred place—through a creative outlet or a commune with nature, meditation or a mini-getaway. Allow the door to your heart to remain open. Resume living. And trust that, although your path might look different than you’d imaged, it can lead to a new beginning if you allow it.

What door has recently closed in your life?

Photo courtesy of Master isolated images at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Allow time, space to heal sting of rejection

Leave a comment

 

The sting of rejection lasts well after the jab hits its mark. I guarantee that most people can relate to this truth at some point in their lives. For me, these words hit home on multiple fronts. From a new acquaintance to a long-time girlfriend to close family members, I bear emotional wounds that tear open each time I’m rebuffed. Yet, I’ve been told I’m too sensitive, that I take things too seriously. And when my chest tightens, awash in near-debilitating sadness, sometimes I question my sanity: Am I too sensitive? Do I take things too seriously? Let me be transparent here: I am flawed. I screw up often. I jump to conclusions, respond with unkind words, hurt those I love. I also apologize, attempt to make amends and right the wrongs. But today, if you notice my sparkle shines less bright, forgive me. I might be allowing time and space to heal a reopened scab imprinted across my heart.

How do you process the sting of rejection?

Photo courtesy of suphakit73 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Got grief? Strategies to help manage heartache

Leave a comment

 

Grief, like cancer, is not biased. Although grief, or heartache, focuses on the psyche, it can still kill: hope, good intentions, innocence. In “Moving forward through grief,” I talk about the stages of grief that many of us will or have encountered. No one situation looks the same; likewise, no one person assimilates grief the same way. Additionally, I believe this soul-deep sorrow can extend beyond loss into territories of unfulfilled dreams, unanswered prayer, disillusionment, broken relationships, failing health and so on. What we require is not a one-size-fits-all solution, but remedies we can apply to help us transition through it:

  • Accept it: understand grief is a normal part of life
  • Be patient: cut slack—with yourself and others—when appropriate
  • Allow time: rest, rejuvenate and replenish as necessary
  • Walk through it: realize it is only temporary; avoid setting up camp
  • Admit a need: know when to ask for and/or to accept help
  • Say no: don’t apologize, minimize or make excuses

What’s your strategy for coping with grief?

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Take action: Don’t let life pass you by

Leave a comment

The “C” word: I abhor it. My parents, others I know, myself. Today, two dear friends battle cancer’s insidious intent. The reality: I’ve slept through too many days and nights, living on the sidelines. But now my eyes are wide open. My heart, at first numb—a coping mechanism to anesthetize oneself from acknowledging the pain, I suppose—begins to thaw, pump out a pulse. Each one stronger than the one before it: Mocking cancer. Choosing life. This, following inaction, allows for action—for rote. A meal, a visit, a thinking of you card, divine petitions as automatic as breathing. Loving. Yet, the fist-sized organ in my chest deceives as I find myself back on the sidelines. At a loss, unsure of the role I’m to play. Helpless, I observe as others fill my shoes. A bitter concoction of anguish, dejection and rejection wash over me. Or maybe this is the feeling of life as it passes by.

What will you do today to take action, live life?

Image courtesy of Greenleaf Designs at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

Older Entries