Navigating Loss and Disappointment

Haven't really cried for the past 10 years. What's up with that? Too much going on I guess, too much inspiration, too much hope, too much curiosity, adventure, meditation and listening to birds sing. Sigh, sigh, sigh. But as life in my world is just as real as most women's worlds I have had a handful of losses which I haven't taken the time to grieve. I mean really grieve. My reason being that I don't like grieving alone. I used to do that. Could only cry in secret. Then I discovered the miracle and magic of crying in public. Oooooh, me oh my! It all started out with my first encounter with the T word ... THERAPY... ouch, did I just say that? Yes, I did. Did it ouch me? No it didn't. I'm just afraid that it may have ouched some of you! Seems that forEVER there has been a real nastiness around the idea of therapy. As for me I heart therapy. I love therapy. I adore therapy. Therapy makes my skin glow. My hair shine. My heart soar. My tears flow. And my tears make the flowers of my heart bloom and multiply! But for the past 10 years I have left out the tear factor. I kept too busy to cry. 

Last night I cried. I got to thinking one more time about my daughter. I love my daughter. I love my son. My son has been more complicated than my daughter; he keeps it real. My daughter is the opposite, keeps it simple, short and sweet. It's like having a friend who doesn't want you to know her and she doesn't want to know you. I don't know how to deal with that, have always had a huge problem with that, did my darndest  for decades to cope, deal, reason, rationalize, fret, fuss and cry over that. But for the past 10 years no more tears. No more feeling much of anything. Life went on all around me while feelings gradually stopped inside of me. It was okay. I accomplished nice things. I learned nice things, I earned nice things. I said nice things. I did nice things. I gave nice things. I became intensely passionate about bad things; not angry, not sorrowful, not happy, just pleasant or firmly passionate.  No real emotional feelings inside of me. Well, last night I cried. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I do not regret ten years of not feeling things inside of me. I already had a few decades of learning how to let my feelings out, be fully alive, feel what's really inside...deep down in. I suppose you could accurately say that I sort of got tired of it and slowly I shut down for 10 years and got some other stuff down. Hey, I put my extra energy and time to good use! I learned a lot about a lot of good stuff. I grew a lot. I shared a lot. I helped a lot. I experienced passion for "worthy causes" without coming unglued! I spoke out spontaneously about issues of social injustice, destructive discrimination, toxic attitudes, toxic agricultural practices, toxic healing practices, toxic educational system, toxic air, water and art without feeling anger or breaking down into tears. I discovered the difference between being a loose cannon, hot-head vs being a real agent for change. I became more effective advocate for practical education, health and financial empowerment of women.  I slipped into the role of strong, sensible big sister, mother, aunt, coach and mentor. Well,  last night I cried. 

I cried like I wanted to die. Like there was no pain in the world greater than mine. Like nothing in the world could ever restore me to happiness, wholeness and wellness. I cried all night and half the morning. 

Then I went outside to tend my garden. That was nice. Half my arugula lettuce and turnip greens were eaten up by bugs. Or so I thought at first. But they weren't bugs. They were slippery, slimy little slugs. So I had to get a cup of salt water and hot sauce and a spoon and sprinkle the hungry little things to death. I mean, not a pleasant thing to do. But I couldn't think of anything else to do. I eat my vegetables. I don't buy them from stores in the summer; I grow them. I share them with people, not slugs. The 40 acres  that I am surrounded by have plenty of leaves and grasses for them to feed on, why eat my vegetables? 

Well, intentionally killing things is just not my thing. It made a pretty strong mark on my psyche. Just the spectacle of the whole thing! Errrrr upppp. Ugh! Well, I couldn't eat lunch. I couldn't eat my afternoon snack. I could however do something useful so I went to the Food Bank and gathered a bunch of stuff to distribute to the "Crossing" (a wonderful place of ministry to the community.)  I dragged the bags of food in, took me 6 trips, in and out, while Bible study was going on... ( I can't rant enough about how enormously I hate Bible study groups!!! But this one was talking about guess what? You guessed it: About people who don't express their feelings, so I just had to sit down and listen. I got reminded that there is a great magical loving spirit surrounding us all that can help us reason things out and really feel loved deep down inside if we let it all hang out and call on the spirit to vibe in our behalf. I had forgotten that for the past 10 years. Seems  like a reasonable thing to do at this point. I think I'll try it for awhile. 

Thanks, I feel much better now. .