It’s been over a month since I’ve been here to write a blog. My life has been turned upside down, and I just haven’t been able to focus on writing this type of content. I’ve missed being here—researching and writing on chronic pain. But life is what it is.
The short version of the story is that our granddaughter, an 18-year old fabulous firecracker of a young woman, died in a automobile accident on October 18. In the last four weeks, our family has cried many tears. We have pulled out old pictures, and told a stream of funny and poignant stories. We’ve come together with her community of friends and family to mourn our collective loss. The grieving and healing process goes in waves, and we have what feels like an eternity of waves to ride.
Cris and I are also dealing with another significant downturn in my mother’s health. That’s a different kind of grieving, but grieving just the same.
The world also joins us in grief and shock after the terrorist bombings and activity of the last few weeks—the Russian airliner, the Beirut and Paris attacks.
There’s just so much sadness in these weeks and days and moments. Sometimes it just feels overwhelming, doesn’t it?
In the midst of a month like this, it’s hard to remember to take care of myself. Here are some of the issues I’ve faced:
- Should I keep the physical therapy or massage appointments I have scheduled?
- How can I be sure to get enough sleep?
- Are there food choices that will keep my relatively pain free, while accommodating my reduced desire to eat?
- What are the other activities that will feel nourishing to me?
Perhaps you can relate to this list. No matter what the challenges are in our lives, it’s a delicate balance to manage the urgent needs of our family (or business or the world) with the ongoing needs of our own body and soul.
From the seventh tip, this helped me remember to treat myself tenderly during our time of crisis:
“I used to think it would be a “one-time-through-the-stages” of grief process (the stages usually broken down into denial, anger, sadness or even depression, and then…acceptance). I thought that once I passed through a stage, it wouldn’t return. But now I see that acceptance can give way at any moment to a new round of grieving, maybe with just one of those “stages” popping in for a visit, such as anger or sadness. When this happens, I’ve learned not to push the grief away in aversion because that just strengthens it. Instead, I allow it to be present, treating myself as tenderly as I can until it passes.”
So no matter your challenge or crisis, be present and treat yourself tenderly. And I promise to do the same.