The thing about loss.
Following on from the blog HUMAN V NATURE.
How do we release the need to hold on? How do we allow ourselves to be moved by life? Even when it’s not what we hoped or planned.
I remember being sat around the table at my friends house. It was three days into Neil being in ICU. Life had become a bubble, a cocoon. Suddenly, everything become small, quiet and insular. It felt weird.
If I were to imagine someone else in this situation; a partner dying in ICU three weeks after opening a yoga studio, it would look vastly different to the reality I found myself in then.
In my imagined reality, I would be curled in a ball unable to interact with the outside world, unable to do anything but scream. Why? Why me? Why now? Why him?
While there were moments of this, the weirdest part was how okay and how normal I was. How the most mundane elements of daily life continued to exist. I still had to sleep, eat and go for a wee. I still had to get dressed, pay my bills and interact with strangers. The normalcy of it all was weird.
Much of the recovery process was this. It was quiet. It was simple. It was dealing with each moment as it arrived. There wasn’t space for anything else. It felt, in way, peaceful. There wasn’t time for struggle as we grieved the loss of our old life and had no choice but to welcome each adjustment as it came.
Later, I realised why that first year felt like this. The feeling of peace was a result of us allowing ourselves to be moved by life. We didn’t, or couldn’t, resist or refuse it. We had to be flexible. We had to allow each part of the whole ridiculous situation to fall into place.
When it was hard, we screamed into pillows.
When I longed for the life we had before, I allowed myself to long.
When it was happy, we danced around the house (okay not so much Neil)
When it felt so exhausting I could barely speak, I slept and turned my phone off.
We felt and faced each part of the process, grieving the old and welcoming the new and in turn, we found freedom.
So how did we know not to resist? Was it the yoga practice? Maybe. Can I always find this wisdom when life throws a curveball? No blady way.
The important thing? I know it exists. I know that I can, we can, all move with life this way. I know that freedom can be found there. I learnt it in the most brutal, yet beautiful way.
I hope that others can learn to do the same. I hope you will come to know that quiet link to freedom, to hold it deep inside you, so it can rise to the surface when you need it most.