Last weekend, I decided to lean into the pain. Lean into the pain of sadness and loss. Lean into the pain of losing my best friend Alexis five weeks ago. Be present in my sadness.
For the past six weeks I’ve felt like I was in my own bubble and life was moving around as if it was the same. I had to give space to the fact that I will never be the same again. Staying on the wheel of work, kids and your to-do list gives no time to process. With the grief so heavy, I started to feel like I might explode. Lack of time required dealing with emotions in mini-increments. A quick cry or moment of pondering before the kids came home or after putting them to bed. I needed some time.
My friend Tatiana, who is also very much dealing with Alexis’ loss, kept sending me sad songs she was listening to one day. I kept thinking, why is she doing that; that’s too hard right now. I can’t afford to feel like that right now. That night, I opened a favorite bedside book called, The Pocket Guru, By Dr. Siri Sat Nam. The book contains topically organized guidance and mantras for spiritual living. I turned to the page covering Sadness. Dr. Siri said,
Nobody wants to be sad. . . .Sad is not bad, it just is. We must feel our sadness and work through it. Cry, talk about it, listen to the blues to honor and alleviate sadness. Let sadness live so it can eventually die. Deny it and it will overtake us.
I was supposed to read that. I realized that if I didn’t lean in and listen to my sadness, I wouldn’t be able to learn from and through it. I needed to be in it. We didn’t have much planned last weekend weekend. I decided that after sports on Saturday, I was taking the day to myself. Everyone else was home, but I made it known what I’d be doing.
Tatiana had actually made a mix of beautiful and sad songs that made her think of Alexis. I laid on the couch on our balcony covered in a big blanket. Staring at a tree blowing in the soft wind for hours. I listened to the mix over and over. And cried, reflected and was still. Memories rushing over me like no other. Feelings, touches, hugs, laughs. My whole body aching with love. But I was also paying respect to her. To our love. To our sisterhood.
The whole weekend was somber. And I moved slow. I don’t feel any “better” this week, but I do feel like I am being present in my feelings. When I am able.
It was hard work and I was exhausted. I realize how important it is to be still. To lean into the pain and learn the lessons we are supposed to learn. To feel your loved one’s spirit washing over you when you talk to them or are still feels beautiful and sacred.
To more sacred moments with those who have gone before us.