Start Somewhere
Just start somewhere, they say.
Here goes…
I lost the husband.
I lost the home.
I lost the job.
I lost the community.
I lost my darling sons.
And, oh yeah, the pandemic.
Disclaimer: This is an obscenely general overview of the last two years of my life and can easily be misleading. There are many layers and nuances to each of those statements, none of which I care to shed light on today.
What’s important to me today is what comes next in that timeline. I’ve decided it will be healing, growth and happiness.
So where do I start?
About a decade ago, a fellow mom asked if I’d like to participate in a 90-day writing exercise that would serve to document a steadfast and consistent (albeit messy) process of a mother’s transformations during those blurry, sleep-deprived days of caring for a toddler and infant. She made it into a blog and called it Mamamorphosis, and for three full months we shared a daily snapshot of our effort to nurture mind, body and spirit. There were laugh-along stories of tantrums at Target and breast pumping fiascos, right alongside confessions of paralyzing anxiety and exhaustion. Looking back, I realize that 90 day community became one of the ropes that pulled me out of a deep postpartum funk. In fact, we built such a lovely community and enjoyed such cathartic relief we ended up doing the 90-day journey twice.
I’ve been thinking about that writing practice quite a lot lately, as I’ve been looking for the rope. It’s not quite postpartum, but it’s definitely felt dark and disorienting and heavy like that. I know it’s anger and it’s grief, and I’ve been wearing it like a winter coat. I’d like to feel lighter, and I’d like to let go, so here I begin…mind, body, spirit—a recap, Day One:
Mind
A Saturday morning with nothing to do (for me, at least) is a recipe for books, coffee, music, books, yoga, journaling, coffee, music. And, y’all—I nailed it. For nearly three straight hours I hung out on my yoga mat. I worked through a stack of half-read non-fiction, I moved, I pulled a few Tarot cards, I paused to meditate and journal, I got connected to my breath, I delighted in a full carafe of coffee. All of this activity surely fired up a few neural pathways and what actually felt most prolific was the time I spent sitting still.
Meditation has always been a notion I flirt with, but it’s one that, although I “practice”, I never quite arrive at. Want to hear the irony? The thing I work so hard to do is really only asking me to simply be. So today I did just that. I sat in silence. Closed my eyes. Emptied the brain cave. Swatted away the bats and butterflies (and worries, to-do lists) as they came swarming in. I knocked out 20 minutes of solid stillness. Holy moly. You know how they say the meditation is good for your mind? I think they’re telling us the truth.
Body
Since January of this year, I’ve gained a significant amount of weight. I attribute this to unfathomable stress, lethargy caused by grief and mental/emotional exhaustion, and a daily diet of fried chicken and red wine (which, for the record, I do not regret). Instead of tormenting myself for being so careless with my body, I’ve been focusing on the opposite—this magnificent body has been the container during a season of unspeakable sadness and stress, and, now that the season is shifting, I can look back and see that, in fact, my body needed two things: comfort and rest. (Boy, did I give her what she begged for.) And now, she’s asking for long walks, more live music, steep hikes, laughter with new friends, reunions with beloved old friends, daily motion on the mat, and a chance to get out all that got held in.
SO—I went for the long walk. I turned up the good tunes and I flowed through the poses. I filled my belly with nutrient-rich foods. I giggled with one of my girls. I drank the water. (And let’s be clear, I also enjoyed the wine.)
Spirit
New beginnings are good for the soul, and I have a few to share:
I started Ted Lasso (feels SO GOOD to be part of the Lasso Club and everything that’s been said about this show is legit—it’s wonderful).
I started this self-imposed 90-day writing challenge and I found the courage to post it.
I woke up this morning and I decided that this next chapter is going to be EPIC.
We all have trials that tend to knock us to our knees, spin us in circles blindfolded, take away our sense of safety, force us to find new ways to live…this is part of the human condition. Some people run through it via marathons, some people rebuild through a new hobby, some people go all in and chop off all their hair (I did that). Some of us write about it, and I’m grateful that you took the time to experience life with me today. Guess I’ll see you here tomorrow.
x,
lk
