I misunderstood the instructions on the jar
Take One/Leave One
Hello my friends,
I’m showing up here with just as many questions, half-baked musings, and wonderings as I have offerings, reflections, or pearls of wisdom for you. And that’s okay!
Then why do I feel the need to name that as some sort of disclaimer? As if I owe you an explanation?
Well, that’s the sneaky culture we live in. We’re consumed by the belief that our value comes from our ability to be endlessly productive, creative, growing, and giving. I have to admit, as much as I try to shut that noise out, it has seeped its way into the dialogue of my (sometimes) cruel inner-narrator.
But that’s not the way life works, is it? It’s not always even or level. Sometimes we have more to give. Sometimes we’re running on empty. Sometimes we’re growing and stretching in some areas, while needing to retreat and rest in others.
So I’m showing up trying to model this truth - that most of the time, if we’re honest with ourselves, we’re a hot mix of both. Not a hot mess! A hot mix. Right now, the hot mix of me is…
Undone. Stagnant. Grateful. Flat. Curious. Meandering. Content. Craving. Uncertain. In sum, a little quieter than usual and maybe having less to give at the moment. Maybe you’re in a similar place too?
With that in mind, here are a few random musings of late. I hope you like it.
I misunderstood the instructions on the jar
Even though I promised myself I wouldn’t buy coffee out so often, I found myself needing a break and wound up walking to my neighborhood coffee shop this morning. Good news, I only got the $6 cappuccino and managed not to splurge on the $10 gluten free pastry. #smallwin
I usually spend the long wait time people-watching because, duh, it’s absolutely one of my favorite hobbies of all time. The stories I’ve made up in my mind about people over the years could be an incredible novel (or 8-part Netflix mini series) some day.
Anyhow, today I found myself staring straight ahead at the jar on the counter. It was filled with folded up bright pink and neon yellow sticky notes. There was a crafty hand-written instruction tag on the jar. It read: Compliment - Take One/Leave One.
Assignment understood. I reached for the yellow sticky note and wrote, “Your smile lights up the world.” Folded it sticky side out (oops) and tucked it in the jar. Check.
On my short walk home, I savored my tiny beverage and imagined the smile my note might bring to some unsuspecting stranger’s face. It wasn’t until I crossed through the threshold of my door to the eager tail wags of my dog that I realized might have misunderstood the instructions.
I had assumed it meant “take one OR leave one”. Why did I assume that? It could have meant take one and leave one. Or I could have chosen to just take one. Either way, there I was again, giving without taking.
Ugh, there I was ignoring my own advice. There isn’t a client session that goes by where we’re I’m not inviting them to reflect on the withdrawals and deposits in their week. In other words, paying attention to their emotional/energy bank balance. So just in case you’re wondering, “does she practice what she preaches?” The answer is…sometimes. Why? Welp, because I’m human too.
It also got me thinking, what’s the compliment I would have wanted to find at the bottom of that jar? Honestly, I think it’s the one that I left for someone else - I hope that my smiles lights up the world too.
What’s the compliment you’d like to pluck out of the jar? What if you started your own compliment jar at home?
That seems like a “you” problem
In the wake of profound loss, or crossing over any significant threshold in our lives, one of the most important prompts we can ask ourselves is, “how am I tending to the care and feeding of me?” One of my clients, I’ll call her Molly, has really taken this to heart. In our work together over the past year, she is often naming how her mantra “The Care and Feeding of Molly” is helping her discern where, when, and how she nourishes herself versus spends her energy. This has been a priority of hers as she finds her way forward in life after the death of her husband.
In a recent session she shared that an important family member told her straight to her face “UGH. It’s annoying. I hate it when you say that mantra.” I paused and asked her how she felt about their opinion. She paused too, just briefly though, then laughed out loud and with a big smile said essentially, “I don’t give a fuck.” Molly reflected on how literally life-saving that mantra has been because early on in her grief she didn’t feel much like caring for herself (or living at all for that matter).
So we decided the only correct response was, “that seems like a YOU problem.”
We cackled and laughed at the thought of that for a while. Does that surprise you that we laugh in sessions? It happens more than you think. Then we agreed that although she doesn’t need to actually say that phrase to her beloved family member, it’s a good reminder that we’re not responsible for other people’s opinions of us.
People grieve us when we change
What Molly shared was a reminder of what can happen when we decide to focus on ourselves. Whether you call that a healing journey, a grieving journey, a season of self-care, or something else all together, sometimes our growth isn’t received well by others. Has that happened to you?
Again, other people’s opinions of us aren’t our business. I’m not going to get into all the reasons, justifications (valid or not) about why others might resist our growth. AND, in case it’s happening to you, I encourage you to consider that sometimes what you’re experiencing in other people’s complaints or judgements is really their grief over losing you.
I know that might seem weird, but when we change (whether we have to because of a death loss or we want to because we feel inspired), that person was in relationship with a version of you that you’re working hard to leave behind. And that likely leaves them wondering, where do I fit in?
As I said earlier, I don’t have big complete answers, only half-baked ideas. So I offer you this invitation (one you’re welcome to take OR leave). When someone you love is struggling to appreciate the hard work you’re putting into nurturing yourself in the wake of loss, perhaps remember that they’re likely grieving too. They’re worried about losing you, or the relationship they had with you. You might try mentioning that to them and see if that opens the door to a different conversation.
Grieving our bodies (and our bodies grieve)
Recently, I’ve been working hard on both being in and comfortable with my body. The lumpectomy, chemotherapy, radiation, the ensuing menopause, and the hormone blocker pills I’m on (fun) has left me needing to get to know a new me when I look in the mirror.
I know my body is a gift. It’s carried me through 53 years. That’s 9 more years than my late husband got. In this body I’ve experienced amazement and trauma, love and loss, ecstasy and terror, beginnings and endings, and so much more. It’s allowed me to hug the people I love, see incredible underwater worlds as a SCUBA diver, and watch the sunrise above the clouds on the top of Mt. Haleakala.
Again, I don’t have any amazing self-love statements to share. I’ll just offer this reminder - we’re designed to see the negative (negativity-bias), so it takes us bringing intention to our attention in order to see the beauty amongst the hard.
For sure there are days where I look in the mirror and focus on the changes I don’t like. I pick on the expanding softness of my mid section or the frankenstein-looking scar on what’s left of my left breast.
But then there are other days where I’m present to the delight of my new post-chemo curly hair. I’m grateful for the fact that recently I had the energy and stamina again to hike with friends for 2 hours while overlooking the Pacific Ocean. I made it a point to recognize what a gift it was that I had the strength a few weeks ago to help my daughter move heavy furniture into her new apartment.
Whether you’re experiencing changes in your body because of illness or injury, or because you’re grieving, I invite you to listen to my latest podcast conversation Tending to Our Grieving Body with the one and only Dr. Mary-Frances O’Connor - author of The Grieving Brain and The Grieving Body.
Snapshots of my life recently
(Left to Right): From coffee shop hangs, returning to reading fiction, volunteering as a guide for a grief movement community, performing in my first Improv Show, hiking along the Pacific Ocean, buying my weekly bouquet of give-away flowers, having my portrait drawn as I told my cancer story to a class full of students in an Aesthetics of Health class, wandering the Botanical Gardens with my daughter, and receiving beautiful feedback from a recent podcast episode on Medical Aid in Dying, life sure has been interesting lately - and I’m so grateful for it.
And I’m so grateful for you too. If you loved something here today, or wanted to answer one of the questions I prompted you with, please leave a comment.
Until next time, I see you, I hear you, and I’m holding you in my heart.
As a women carrying grief and determined to keep going to embrace the goodness of life. I found “we’re designed to see negative so it takes us bringing intention to our attention in order to see the beauty amongst the hard.” My father died when I was 12 and I found my firstborn son dead in his crib from SIDS. A lack of dealing with the grief (by those around me) I tried to lock my emotions in a box. Then 14 yrs later my second son died and there was no box big enough. Through my suffering I have developed a calling to encourage others to find the good in life in the face of grief. Thank you for the affirmation I felt in reading your words.