Grief at Christmas and the joy that isn't happiness

View fullsize

[This is an update of an article that I wrote a few years ago. There are people in my life who have experienced recent loss and grief, and some who are struggling. I hope this post offers encouragement, support and a healing balm.]

Christmas is the time of year that is supposed to be filled with joy but for many it isn't. Many experience sadness, grief, loneliness, fear and anxiety and can especially struggle with those feelings during a season of expected festiveness. This I know.

My mum died on the 19th of December, 1996.  For years, my experience of Christmas was overshadowed by my feelings of grief and loss and aloneness. I not only lost my mum but also Christmas as I knew it.

As the years have passed, our family has expanded: when my dad remarried, we gained a stepmother and step-siblings, nieces and nephews have been born, and more recently I married adding a husband and his Italian family. The family has also contracted as people have left this world. My mum’s dad, my Papa, died the day after the third anniversary of mum’s death. Christmas was overshadowed by yet another loss and more grief and sadness. Death forever changes the structure of a family. For a long time I felt lost within my family and I grieved the loss of old way of traditions.

There can be so much expectation at this time of year by others and ourselves that we should be happy and festive and joyful. It can be even more painful when no matter how we try we can’t find that joy within ourselves. Pain, grief and sorrow cannot be commanded away.

Dictionary.com defines joy "as the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying."

But I no longer believe in that definition of joy because I have experienced something different. Joy is not the result of external experience and it’s not what we think it is.

In his book, The Presence Process, Michael Brown writes, "we confuse joy with the outer changing experience called "the pursuit of happiness." But experiencing authentic joy isn't just about feeling good. It's about feeling everything, which requires emotional inclusiveness." He also writes "authentic joy isn't an emotional state, but a state of being in which we accept all of life's offerings as required, especially challenging moments."

I first came to understand this a few years ago when I suffered lower back and hip problems after badly spraining my ankle. I was presented with many challenging moments. I shed a lot of tears as I lay on the floor struggling to cope with pain, frustration and helplessness wondering when the pain would end, when I would be able to move freely again. I wanted to be somewhere in the future where I was healed and healthy again. This year, I was presented with the opportunity to relearn this lesson suffering recurring bouts of stomach pain, the last two-month stint has just ended.

I realised that wanting to be anywhere other than where I was—fighting my reality—wasn’t helping me that it only made me more upset.

When I dropped my resistance and just accepted this is where I am right now I became peaceful because everything is allowed and included. I was also able to see the positives of my pain and injuries: becoming more embodied, exploring how I move in my body, learning a new way to hold myself and walk in the world, my strength and resilience.

I noticed how my spirit beyond my small self revelled in this experience as it revels in all of my life experience. This revelling is what I know now as a state of joy.

It’s only my mind that labels experiences and emotions as good or bad. My soul loves them all.

This Christmas season there are people I love who are missing from my physical world. Christmas of old is forever gone. And I am sad about this.

When I first wrote this article three years ago, I wasn’t feeling delighted, light-hearted or frivolously happy anticipating the approach of Christmas Day. I was open to the idea that maybe one day I would be, but how I felt right then was okay. We don't have to love Christmas. We don’t have to pretend to be happy.

This year it seems the tide has started to change. While I still feel sadness for what has gone and will never be again, I also feel my love for the magic, mystery and sacredness of Christmas growing within my heart, body and soul once again. I am so grateful that it is. I have missed it.

However you are feeling right now about Christmas and your life is okay. All feelings have their place in our human experience. It is all of our human life not just selective experiences or emotions such as passing moments of happiness that contribute to authentic joy.

Don't shun or resist the parts of you that hurt—love them. They are beautiful too. It is through experiencing all of life, all emotions that you will discover true joy.

With love and courage,

Kym xx

The unseen affect of your inspired action

We never truly know how what we do or say affects another person. We’re not in their bodies to know how it feels for them, and often we don’t get feedback from them as the wave of life takes us in different directions. If we did, I think it would inspire us to be more kind and to take more inspired action. But in the absence of feedback, we must surrender and either trust our action or imagine the affect it has, that our intention to offer kindness, love, encouragement does just that.

I want to offer two stories about the unseen affect of taking inspired action: one as the receiver and one as the giver.

Receiving

Recently I was surprised to receive the most beautiful email from one of my blog readers, who I will refer to as G. She took the time to share some of her personal journey with me and told me how perfectly timed some of my articles have been for her and how they have touched her in different ways. Her words landed inside me deeply. I cried as I read the email.

Sometimes, I doubt what I’m doing. It was around a year ago that I first had the inspiration to change the name of my blog to Sacred Reminders for Courageous Hearts. My inner critic reared up her nasty head asking me who was I to think I could write sacred reminders? I doubted if I should do it. It took me months to actually do it.

Sometimes I write posts and I get feedback. Sometimes I don’t. But the absence of feedback doesn’t mean that my offering or your offering for that matter hasn’t made a difference. No feedback is just no feedback.

Borrowing the words of George Michael, sometimes “you gotta have faith.” Keep following your inspiration and trust it. The affect of it may just be unseen.

I am so grateful that G felt inspired to write to me and acted on it. It was a simple, free but great gift that has deeply touched my heart and inspired renewed energy and commitment to my writing and following my inspiration.

Your kindness, encouragement and belief in another person may be just the medicine you didn’t know they needed.

Giving

A few years ago when I was in London, holed up at my friend’s place and unable to undertake my planned pilgrimage from Rome to Jerusalem due to my seized lower back and hip problems, I experienced a most beautiful and intimate moment of inspired action.

I was walking back to the underground station after receiving a massage to help my body heal, when I walked past a small, old woman with white hair pulled back in a bun sitting in a doorway with her bag of belongings next to her. The street was busy and many people walked past her without even looking at her. I saw her and walked past too but I experienced a strong inner directive to go back and speak to her.

Her name was Mary. I squatted beside her and spoke to her. She told me her story about how she had become homeless, a story of family relationship breakdown and misfortune. I listened and asked questions.

Then I felt another inner directive to offer her a hug. This is not something I usually do. At first I felt resistant, then awkward and shy but the inner directive was strong. So I asked her.

“Mary, would you like a hug?”
Her face lit up and her blue eyes beamed.
“Yes please,” she responded.

I wrapped my arms around her and she wrapped her arms around me and we hugged for a long time. When our time together felt complete, I gifted her some money to get a room for the night, and held her hand for a few moments.

“I wish I had a daughter like you,” she told me.

I looked lovingly into her eyes and then left.

I don’t know what lasting affect if any that moment had on Mary’s life. I like to hope that she felt love and kindness, and that the memory of that moment might help her keep going through tough moments.

What I do know is that it has had a lasting affect on me. Even now, three years later, I think of Mary and wonder where she is, how she is, if she is still alive. I feel a great love and tenderness in my heart. It makes me want to be more kind, more generous, more giving.

Taking inspired action, creating and offering anything that is inspired including love and kindness has an extremely positive affect on your own heart and energy field.  Maybe no one will ever see your artwork, read your poem or book, or receive or acknowledge your heartfelt offering. But following your inspiration and offering it regardless of how or if it will be received by anyone else feels really good.

Inspired action increases your energy and creativity and makes you feel more positive, radiant, and joyful. And so by default without even knowing, you will affect anyone you come into contact with.

Resist, avoid or hold back on your inspired action and you will most likely feel miserable and others will feel your misery. But by flowing with your inspiration and doing what you love, your inner fire will glow brightly and others will experience and even absorb some of your radiance.

You might just light them up. You might just change their moment, their day, even their whole life.

Your inspired action matters.

You matter.

With love and courage to you all and deep gratitude to G and to Mary,

Kym

xx

Soaking in quiet and blessings

Today is the day I write my weekly blog post, but as I sit down to write, I find that inside I am full of quiet and few words.

My weekend was busy, preparing for, and hosting my family Christmas celebration, which we held at my home on Saturday night.  Being host is a busy role. There was shopping, cleaning, food preparation and cooking, food serving and lots and lots of dishwashing and more cleaning to do.

Today, despite my ideas of what I should be doing, my inner world is quiet and my body says rest. So I am sitting outside on our back patio, soaking in my own inner quiet, listening to the world around me and the world inside.

Cicadas and birds chirp intermittently. There is hammering and sawing at the house being built just down the road. The wind rustles the trees and rocks our bamboo chime into song.

My breath goes in and out slowly. My body feels supported by the lounge beneath me.

Today, I savour all the blessings in my life: that I have family to welcome into my home, a safe and quiet place to live with a small backyard oasis that I love, enough money in the bank, this time to rest and feel grateful, and the ability to write my blog and share my blessings with you.

Life can be busy, especially leading up to Christmas. Taking time to sit quietly with all your blessings and allowing your body to rest in your life here and now even if it’s just for a few minutes with a cup of tea, re-fills your inner cup so that your love, joy and gratitude can continue to spill over to all who you love and all who cross your path. Isn’t this the best present you can gift the world?

With love and blessings,

Kym xx

After the rain comes sun (and an excerpt from my book)

Looking down at the cemetery on the way into Berceto (Italy) on the Via Francigena

It’s been a tough 6 weeks with constant stomach pain, and grief and stress all coming up to be loved and healed.

Last weekend my body voiced its need to rest, heavy and lethargic with no desire to go anywhere or do anything. So I rested at home watching a new favourite series, Call the Midwife. I adore Sister Monica Joan with her poetic, mystical, deeply emotional and wise nature.

Contemplating what I would write about today in light of my current challenges, I remembered when I was walking the Via Francigena, how the ever-changing weather and the mud that clung to my boots tested me almost daily.  And so I felt inspired to share some excerpts from my forthcoming book, The Path We Make.

“After the rain comes sun. It managed to break through the clouds for large parts of the day. I welcomed its warmth on my skin, pausing to bask in the simple pleasure of it. Yet after the rain also comes wet grass and mud. Although my map showed that the canal path continued all the way into Châlons-en-Champagne, I followed the guidebook’s detour via Juvigny and trudged through 500 metres of thick, gunky mud that clung to the soles of my boots, gluing my feet to the ground. I hated the mud to the point of repulsion. I hated how it felt under my feet and I hated getting dirty. After stomping along for a time, I was relieved to turn onto a gravel path, but after 900 metres the gravel led to more wet grass and thick mud. The last 100 metres I walked through were a tangled mess of knee-high grass and blackberry bushes. The Red Beasts were wet again and so were my feet. My soles were clumped with mud and my pants smeared grey-brown. I missed the turn onto Rue St Martin that led to another field, but I didn’t mind walking along the hard bitumen for a while longer. At least my feet weren’t getting wetter or coated in more mud. Two kilometres down the road, I turned onto a gravel track back towards the main trail that became four more kilometres of clay and wet grass.

If I had to choose between walking all day in the rain on bitumen roads or walking in the sunshine on muddy wet tracks, I’m not sure which I would choose. They were both short straws: the bitumen punishingly hard, the rain a pain and the mud just plain repulsive. I tried to find something positive about mud and wet grass but couldn’t. It was annoying and gross and that was all. I was so happy when I finally turned back onto the concrete towpath and scraped the mud off my boots with a small stick. I had never spent this much time outdoors with limited shelter, exposed to whatever weather swept through, and with the need to keep moving. Unlike the week I walked through Tuscany in summer, when it was hot and hot only, I was experiencing four seasons almost every day, often numerous times each day, and it was testing my ability to accept what is.”

The Via Francigena pilgrimage tested me deeply and consistently on emotional, physical, spiritual and mental levels.  But for all the challenges, there were many gifts. Here’s another excerpt from my book from when I was walking from Berry-au-Bac to Reims in France. Kermit cloak is the name I gave to my green rain poncho.

“During the day I cursed the weather frequently. Melbourne is renowned for having four seasons in one day, but on this road it was four seasons every hour. Kermit cloak on then off, warm layer off then on again. Repeat, repeat, repeat! As frustrating as the weather was, it had its blessings too. A sudden shower forced me to put Kermit back on and then five minutes later the sun came out scorching, leaving me cursing as I ripped the Kermit off again. I rounded a corner and saw a host of yellow and purple wildflowers glistening in the sun. My cursing turned into cries of amazement.”

Amidst the frustration and trying times can be great beauty. And if there’s no beauty to be seen, don’t lose faith. The weather will eventually change, as will the seasons and the terrain you travel. Keep breathing.

With love and courage

Kym xx

You will rise back up and bloom: faith learned from life and the garden

This is what happens,
after life cuts you down to the ground.

You may be stunned and startled,
hollowed and halted,
broken and disheveled,
cut off from everything you knew
and were growing towards.

But slowly over time,
nature will have her way.

Your roots will draw sustenance
from tears and sobbing,
the pain of desolation, 
and the barrenness that breathes you
when your dream has been snatched away.

One day, maybe tomorrow, 
maybe next week, 
maybe next month
or even years from now,
you will rise back up, 
and you will bloom
more beautiful than ever before. 
Radiant with all your scars
and all your new growth. 

Despite everything, 
you endured. 

You risked, you loved, you lost
and in the end you won,
twisted, stretched, scrunched and moulded
into intricate living wisdom
that cannot be learned from reading books,
only from embracing 
and bowing to life herself,
no matter how willing or unwillingly
you fell to your knees and plunged
into the mud and the darkness.

---

PS Please share, with love.

What you are capable of

When you are tired and your feet are throbbing from the forty thousandth step and the fourteen kilos loaded on your back.

When your hips muscles spasm rebelling against the thirtieth kilometre you have walked today alone.

When your body is crying its song of pain only you can hear and begging that you stop.

You do not.

You question why you do this day after day and if it is the only way to find what you seek.

But each morning you still wake to walk, and you keep going until you reach the place you know you must be to find shelter and warmth and nourishment to thank your body for its service despite its complaints.

As you pass through another village, the chalky smoke of old fires burning invoke desire for rest.

The dark whispers tell you that it’s okay to stop, that you can quit and just go home.

But your spirit surges through your heart, strong and determined.

It tells you, laughing kindly, that you still don't know what you are fully capable of and you will never know if you skirt the flames.

You did not come into this world to live easy.

You came into this world to find out who you are and to discover the enormity of your own power.

You came into this world, to live this ordinary human life extraordinarily.

Embracing fear, taking a risk

Fear rushes towards me. All of my cells scream “no!”

Don’t worry. I’m not in any real danger. I’m just sitting at my writing desk with my iPhone in my hand and my thumb hovering over the share button of a Facebook post.

I’m on the verge of putting my first holistic counseling service offer into the world and it feels like I’m about to step off the edge of a cliff and go splat in a way that not even the ever flexible Gumby could recover from.

IMAGE SOURCE: https://shannoncrane.files.wordpress.com

I don’t have to do this, I know. Nobody’s making me do it. I could delete the draft post, put the phone down and just walk away, or I could use the classic deferral tactic and tell myself I’ll do it next week or another day and that day will come and I can just defer it again.

But you see, this is what my heart wants:
To take risks even if I might fail.
To offer what I have to give even if there is no one out there to receive what I have to offer.
To support other sensitive souls through their doubts and fear so that they can step towards their dreams and callings and give their gifts that the world so desperately needs.

My heart has wanted this for a long time, but it’s my mind that has surveyed the future and identified all the potential risks, harm and downfall. (Risk management assessment is a particularly strong skill of mine that has helped me succeed in the business world.)

My mind protests loudly. It digs its heels firmly into the ground. “You’re not going any further. You’re safe here where you are,” it asserts.

For a moment, I contemplate not taking that step and I feel like this…

IMAGE SOURCE: coachingforinspiration.com

Yes, this is what playing it safe can look like on the inside. Try the posture on yourself. It doesn’t feel very good.

Our protective parts will do anything to keep us safe.

They make up a lot of stories, often of the type that don’t have a happy ending.  They tend to overlook the potential for success, freedom, and joy.

They can speak very powerfully with authority but they actually don’t know what the future holds. Nobody does. The only way to find out is to go there.

Whenever we take a risk, fear can arise. It’s a normal response especially when we think of risk in terms of danger or uncertainty instead of opportunity or even thrill. Fear can be heightened for those who are highly sensitive like me.

I don’t believe there is a standard approach to facing and crossing these edges in our lives. We must determine our individual response each time we face an edge that is unique to our life and who we are.

Sometimes the response that feels right is to feel the fear and leap.
Sometimes, we must stand at the edge for a while dreaming into what lies on the other side.
Sometimes we must walk up to the edge then walk away many times before we are ready to take that step.

This time I stood at the edge with fear rushing towards me. I slowly leaned towards the edge of my known and unknown worlds, millimetre by millimetre. As I did, I came into closer contact with the fear.

I held my ground and just felt the sensations that were in and around my body as they grew and grew until I realised it wasn’t actually fear I was feeling.

It was my very life force rushing through me.

All of my cells pulsed with aliveness, not fear. It’s an aliveness I feel now in my body as I write about that experience and further embody it. It’s an incredibly strong power and vibrant light.

Fuelled by my aliveness not fear, I pressed share on that post and published it on Facebook. And guess what?

My world didn’t end. 

I didn’t splat onto the ground. I didn’t get the outcome I hoped for but nothing bad happened at all. Instead something very unexpected happened. I came into direct contact with my own life force and power.

Marianne Williamson wrote, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

The way to liberate yourself from fear is not to turn away from it, not to bypass it, not to step over or around it but to allow it to be there and consciously build your own relationship with it.

Slow down here. Don’t rush. This is hallowed ground.

Be curious about about your fear and the sensations in your body. Is it really fear you are feeling? Ask it questions and check how true the response is. Dialogue with it.

Investigate your beliefs about taking a risk or achieving success.

Feel your way through it into your own power. It’s right there waiting for you.

Is there something you’re afraid of that’s holding you back? I’d love the opportunity to support you through it.  Consider working with me 1:1.

With love and courage,