Springing
Happy Spring?
Apparently it’s spring now, but I’m not feeling it. Snow is falling. Again. Not a lot, and it won’t be too bad, but it’s snow. And that’s just plain annoying at this point.
When something occurs that causes grief, it’s common to feel amazed and/or angry that the world keeps spinning. Your loved one has died, you’ve lost your job, your pet had to be put to sleep, you miscarried, you are acknowledging the life you have isn’t the one you wanted or expected, you received a devastating diagnosis, or you had to retire early. A seismic shift has occurred for you. And yet, people are just peopling like nothing has happened.
The calendar keeps moving forward, but you’re stuck, paralyzed, frozen. In the midst of grief, new days are both hope and affront. The mismatch of external season with internal one can be jarring. We moved into spring yesterday, but there’s still over a foot of snow in our yard that needs to melt. It doesn’t line up. Confusion results.
I took the photo below yesterday. These tracks are made by the mailman. He could walk down the shoveled paths, but he trudges through this snow every day. I can’t decide if he’s stubborn or wise. Maybe both. One of the things grief has taught me is that there’s no way around it but through. I think of that when I see these tracks. There’s no way around this slow spring but to keep trudging—carefully so as not to slip on the ice.
Ah, yes, sometimes we write what we need to hear. One of the grief classes I’ve designed is around the theme of Slow Work. I get the phrase from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin who advises “trust[ing] in the slow work of God.” (God works for me, but maybe for you it’s the slow work of science, the universe, Brahma. Go with that.) Grief is slow work; so is spring. We trudge. Sometimes we step lightly, but sometimes our steps are heavy, stomping, dragging.
They’re still steps.
If you’re interested in the slow work, consider joining one of the upcoming class offerings.
Monday night, 7:00 p.m., 60-minute general grief classes, beginning March 27
Tuesday noon, 60-minute general anxiety classes, beginning March 28
Sundays, 2:00 p.m., Grief series, beginning April 16
Five Things I’ve Loved since Friday’s Newsletter
Baking a cake. Yesterday I made this Cookies and Cream cake to share with friends. It’s so very delicious.
Naps. I love naps. They’re one of my favorite things. It’s true: on occasion, I’ve gotten so excited for a nap that I struggle to fall asleep. Because naps are such wonderful treats.
Seeing friends on dreary days. I get to connect with a friend I haven’t seen in weeks this afternoon. And it’s making my heart happy.
Daydreaming and brainstorming. I didn’t realize how little of this I’ve been doing until I started on this Heart Forward journey. It’s flexing the creative muscles, which is fun, exciting, and sometimes exhausting.
Bubbles. I read somewhere that bubbles can be a fun activity for puppies: they chase them and are confused when they pop. So I bought a giant bottle of bubble solution and was blowing them for Lewis. Turns out that this puppy who’s not afraid of anything is afraid of, yup, bubbles. But I’m not! And I was transported to playful childhood days as I blew those bubbles at him. (I stopped when I noticed he did not like them. Well, I blew a few more, just for fun.)
As always, thanks for reading and sharing. If you have any questions about grief, anxiety, and yoga, feel free to contact me. I hope you’ll sign up for one of the upcoming events!
I look forward to practicing with you.
Peace,
Lauren
