Tag: focus

Peace, Love, and Grief – The Gift of Peace

I probably don’t have to tell anyone who is grieving how hard this season of celebration can be. Everywhere you turn, there is another reminder that this is a time of “joy and cheer”. There is no time for anything else – no other emotions… or so it seems.

Most of us have likely heard that this is also the time of year where suicide rates and domestic violence calls rise. For most of us, this seems to make sense, and we have accepted this as a fact for years… But did you know that this is actually a myth. What?? Really? I was shocked this week to learn that research does not back up these myths, which set me pondering to understand this new information.

Immediately, my mind went to the idea that we choose what we focus on, and whatever we focus on suddenly fills our world. In other words, if all we can think about is our pain… our grief, then, that sadness is all we can see, and it becomes a layer that covers everything else in our world… even on top of all the “joy and cheer”.

Also, whenever we resist “what is”, we ultimately give that thing more power. In fact, we can get so caught up in fighting this part of our journey that it becomes a part of everything on our path… ultimately affecting how we view the whole world around us.

At least, I know it has been that way for me… Since Bruce died, each year’s holiday season has had its challenges.

The first year, the pain was too intense to participate in the season at all I just couldn’t manage it. So, after weeks of struggling with the whole thing, I (kind of) ran away, and spent the week of Christmas on a yacht in the Keys, ignoring what was going on in the rest of the world.

The next year, I managed to spend the holiday in a more “normal” fashion. (You know… with decorations, music, food, and family.) Then, with each year that came, I managed a little bit more. For example, there was the year I finally started singing along with Christmas music on the radio. (That really felt good… Like my own mini celebration.)

Then, there were the years with my grandson, and suddenly Santa and the magic of Christmas were back with a flurry. The holiday was now about his joy and cheer… His wonderment at all that is Christmas. While my own pain from Bruce’s absence was still a layer in the picture, I worked hard to push it aside for my grandson’s sake. Granted, I wasn’t always successful, but I was definitely making progress.

My daughter and grandson moved out a few years ago, and the first year or two after that were a bit floundering for me. I was better than the early years of this journey, but not as good as I tried to be for my grandson… Then, this year, it dawned on me that maybe… just maybe, this reaction of mine is because whatever I feel and do needs to be genuine and needs to be mine. Otherwise, my responses will change with the tides.

I think that is why the singing had felt like a mini celebration… Because it had been a spontaneous response to the season and… It felt good. It was genuine, and it was mine. What had created that difference? My focus… In that moment, I was wholly focused on the music and all the wonderful memories attached to it.

So, that is what I have chosen to do more of this year… To focus, less on what isn’t… more on what is… and how much those “things that are” mean to me. This seems to be creating a kind of acceptance… I know I can’t change what is missing, but by moving toward accepting it (harder than it sounds), I can find the peace within me that allows me to genuinely enjoy what is…

What a gift that realization has been this season!! To realize that my “cheer and joy”… my true peace in this season is within my control… I am not a victim of what happened. I am a willing participant in what is happening all around me… That is a gift… A gift to know that I can still feel sad that Bruce is gone, but I don’t have to paint a layer of that grief onto everything. Instead, I can cover everything, including my grief, with the acceptance that this is where life has brought me. Then, this acceptance allows me to relish this gift of peace that fills my soul and spills out into the world around me.

“Not all Christmas gifts come wrapped and topped with a bow.
Some come in the guise of our more unpleasant challenges.
And sometimes the greatest gift we can receive is realizing the gifts we have to give.”
~ Rev. Bronte Colbert, Daily Word: November – December 2023, A Most Unlikely Christmas Gift

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘be’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Where is My Focus

I have good friends.
I have good family.
I am in a good place.
So, why does it still hurt so bad?
~ Linda, 2021

In my morning readings this week, I came upon a list of the “Keys to Happiness”. The very first one stated, “Happiness is a choice.” Hmmm… I have heard this many times before and always find it interesting. As if our sadness, grief, depression, or whatever we are dealing with should be put aside, ignored, and is somehow our choice and our fault.

I am sure there are those who swear by this mantra, and (to a point) I get it. Generally speaking, I am a positive person. As a past performer, I know, as well as anyone, how to smile at the world when everything on the inside is falling apart. But let’s be honest… happiness isn’t our only emotion… And how healthy is it really to ignore all other emotions and only allow “happiness” – real or pretend – into our lives. I believe it is healthier to feel and work through those other emotions and situations, so that we can be our full, authentic self versus a pretend shadow of who we really are.

Don’t get me wrong… I understand the importance of knowing when and where to do that work, plus the added responsibility of implementing some emotional regulation and control. But completely ignoring all other emotions besides happiness isn’t realistic nor healthy for anyone.

Instead, I think it is more about where we decide to place our focus on any given day and at any given moment…

When Bruce first died, I heard all about this “new normal” that I needed to adjust to – the sooner the better, supposedly. Then, I was told that time would heal… That was all I needed – time. Yet, when that didn’t turn out to be the case, I was told that it was like an injury – the scar or limp would always be there, but the pain and such would fade – remembered but no longer really hurting. Again… That has not been my reality.

Instead, I have found it to be more like an object lesson about focus that we used to use with our kids in school…

Picture a dime… It’s small – not big at all. You can easily hold it between two fingers or hide it in your fist. Now, if you take that dime and hold it close to your face… So close that it blocks almost everything else from your view. At that point, it demands your focus. You have no choice since it is (almost) the only thing you can see. However, as you pull it further away – further back – the rest of the world starts to open up to you again. You can see all the things that were blocked before. Now… that dime is still there. It is the same size it has always been. You can still see it and hold it, but it no longer demands all your focus.

Grief is like that dime… There are days where that grief (dime) is simply a part of the landscape. You know it is there. You can see it, and you can even feel it when you let yourself think about it. In fact, it can easily take over your entire field of vision, if you focus on it a lot (or “too much” according to some). At that point, the pain becomes intense and everything else fades back into the background.

In the beginning, this was every moment of every day. Throughout the years, I have learned to hold that grief far enough out, so that most days I can see and enjoy the rest of my world. My grief isn’t gone; it just isn’t my entire focus. Instead, it is another piece in my life’s tapestry.

However, even now after all this time, there are still days when that grief does blot out everything else… And it isn’t like a scar or a limp… The pain and loneliness are just as strong and just as real as on day one. The only difference is that now, I have a better idea of how to handle it… and a better understanding of how to work through those moments so I can be stronger for the next one.

This week, as the anniversary of Bruce’s death approaches, that grief is getting closer and closer… Each day it seems to be blocking out more and more of the rest of my world. I understand why and I know that it will pass… But I also know that for the next several days, it will be my focus… And by acknowledging it and working through it, I believe I am being much healthier and kinder to myself, than if I ignored it and pretended I didn’t feel it at all.

There is a pain so intense
So deep
It cannot be healed.
It is my soul crying out for yours…
~ Linda, 2015

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and at certain times of the year, it can be just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us wants to on this path, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined – especially during the holidays. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. This next week will hold a lot of challenges for me, as I face the anniversary of Bruce’s death, but my goal is to look at this new year before me and find the joy and the hope life holds.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Life with a purpose

Hey Beautiful,
… I’ve spent 10 years living day by day just knowing you were out there somewhere and knowing that somewhere, somehow we would meet. I tried not to think about it. I was just trying to be a good dad and give <my daughter> what she needed. I really believe God has a plan and I was just going to have faith and let it happen. Now it’s happened and I thank God and can’t wait to see you again. You’ve given me a fresh outlook on life and I have a purpose again. Thank you!

I love you so much!
Bruce, March, 2005

Life with a purpose… isn’t that what we are all looking for in some way? I remember when Bruce wrote this letter to me. He said I gave him a purpose, but I can tell you without a doubt, he gave my life purpose, as well. When he died, I was so confused… so lost. I couldn’t understand why I was still here, and he was gone. The first year without him, I felt as if I no longer had a purpose. Surviving day to day seemed to be the only purpose I could find… at first.

As that first year drew to a close, I began to realize that I was still here for a reason. It was going to be up to me to figure out that reason and find a new focus. That next year, I focused on my own healing – emotionally and spiritually. Don’t get me wrong, I think this is one of those “on-going, for-the-rest-of-your-life” kind of things. But what I did learn that year was our purpose is always evolving. We should not expect it to remain the same year to year or possibly even day to day.

Our purpose is “for a season” – a season of life… and then, it evolves into something else… something new and different. Sometimes that change may be so subtle, we can’t even pinpoint when it actually changed. Then, there are other times (like Bruce’s death), when the change is so sudden and severe, it leaves us reeling and struggling to breathe.

The following year, I felt drawn to start this blog. My purpose was (and is) to tell the true story of dealing with loss. I wanted to tell the whole story – the good and the bad, the celebrations and the struggles, the highs and the lows… I wanted to write about the realities of being the one left behind after a loss.

Why?

Partly because I can write what I can’t say. When Bruce passed away, I had a very quick “reality check.” I learned that we (as a society) have let Hollywood dictate our opinions about loss and grief – how is to be experienced and what we should say to one another for comfort. Then, (according to Hollywood) we are all supposed to forget it, move on and “live happily ever after.”

But that is a myth; it isn’t the reality. I guess I felt my purpose has been to point that out… to let others dealing with loss know they aren’t alone. When I started, I decided that even if it only helped one person, that would make it worthwhile in my book. While I know it has made some people uncomfortable, according to the messages I receive, it has made many more people feel validated in their own experiences… so this blog is a worthwhile purpose “for this season.”

However, while I write honestly about my feelings and experiences here, I know my grief is “old news” to those closest to me. Therefore in my everyday life, I don’t usually talk about this stuff anymore… If I really need to talk to someone, I will. But generally, I try to ensure it is a rare conversation.

Which brings up another “why?” Because, while I want to help others going through similar experiences, I don’t want my whole life to be focused on the frustrations of loss. I want to live a “normal” life. Plus, I have learned that what I focus on in life will expand… and I don’t need any more sadness or frustration in my life.

For example, I found myself struggling this week as this holiday weekend approached. For me, Easter is more than a religious celebration… It is a family celebration of life. However, I knew that I would be alone, and loneliness is a huge issue for me, as it is with most widows and widowers (even years later). Since I have a hard time expressing that, no one around me knew. So, as I found myself focusing on the “alone” piece, the “pity party” started in my head.

However, about mid-week I made a choice. I decided to change my focus from “alone” and redirect it in a positive way. I couldn’t change the “alone” factor, but I could make my time alone positive and productive. So… I completely “unplugged” this weekend. I started on Friday evening, and have spent the last 2 days enjoying a quiet, spiritual retreat weekend. It has been beautiful… and definitely much better than feeling sorry for myself.

This year, while I am still writing this blog (and will continue until it no longer serves a purpose), I can feel my day-to-day purpose shifting. My current focus seems to be around spiritual growth. For what? I have no idea, but I have definitely been drawn in that direction… And I am willing to follow this path and remain open to new ideas and experiences in my life.

In some ways, I feel I am following Bruce’s lead. His calm, steady, quiet faith was unshakable. I always loved to hear him tell how he knew I was “out there somewhere” and we would meet when it was time.

From the time we met until the night he died, he wore an anchor on a chain around his neck. A simple, silver anchor – the symbol of hope. He used to say that it symbolized his hope and his faith all those years as he waited for us to find each other. He would talk about being lonely for years, but how he never gave up hope or settled for something less than what he knew was right.

Now I wear that that chain with the anchor (and our wedding bands). It is my reminder that life always offers hope… and that is where I need to focus.

ringsandanchor

What about you? Do you ever struggle with why you are still here and your loved one is not? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.