Ten plus years ago I worked very hard to alter my negative thinking habits. I’m generally successful with my work in that arena. Though to be very honest I continue to tend the language I use about myself, even released my habit of negative self talk to the moon in several rituals – it is more challenging for me to be kind to me then to be kind to others. This mortal coil is challenging, life is not always positive and to be authentic, I cannot always be positive either. But I never ignore truth, that is not how one heals or grows.
This morning I found out a friend who I’d not seen for many years passed away. She was young and beautiful, she was a vegan who was very health conscious and seemed full of vibrancy. Her cancer was fast acting and now she has left her vessel and transitioned on.
And so I am sad. I am justly, reasonably sad. And I’m questioning … everything. And that’s okay, it’s even good. I’m allowing gentleness with my self.
My morning ritual is important. But today I let it shift. My health takes constant and focused care in order to stay on track, but this morning I stayed in bed a little longer and cried. Then I put on workout clothes only to go water the grass in the tortoise enclosure and then I sat down and cried some more in the sun outside. I grieved the loss of a beautiful light gone too soon and grieved for a child who lost a mother far too early, I asked for help in strength facing the day.
I gathered myself up and and went inside to workout. I sat down on the couch instead because puppies were at my heels and all I really wanted was to squish them and squeeze them and take love and joy from my home, where it is plentiful, so it would fill me for the day ahead. So I did that until I took off workout clothes that were not worked out in, showered, and left for work.
I communicated with my partner about the loss and about the funk I’ve landed in. Questions about what life is worth and how much time we give to tasks we don’t love and how hard it is to make time for those we do love litter my mind. It is good. Now here’s the real work. I’m going to let this loss lead me.
Tonight I will write, likely with a notebook and pen because it always feels most guttural. I will not put any pressure on me but I will write my questions and I will write the answers I hear. I will let myself receive the love in my house and I will be gentle with me. I will also watch my words and make sure they honor the intention of empowering myself and others.
On the tough days we must allow tenderness.
We must make room for the sadness.
And in that space of authentic feeling, there is room for growth.