The Gift of Loss: Finding Your Magic

Weird title, right? Some of you are nodding and some of you are unliking my Facebook page.

It's all good. To each their own.

We've talked a lot about some of the gifts that often come with loss. And I think we all agree that, while we love the gifts, we wish we had gotten them a different way. 

Like when I got a hangnail in my 20s...why didn't that inspire a deep empathy for others? Or when I got cut off in traffic...why didn't that make me realize that each person has their own path and pace? When my toddler screamed in the grocery store...why didn't I instantly know that there were going to be good days and bad days, but it was up to me to decide how I handled things?

I don't know. But I sure wish life worked that way.

Anyway, I do think a lot about some of the gifts I've received because of this trauma and loss. I even think about the gifts I've received as a result of my anxiety/panic disorder. It's all very twisted. But I know I'm a better person as a result of what I've been through.

I recently received Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic in my Singles Swag box (if you don't know what that is, do yourself a favor and check it out. I LOVE IT) and one of her first sentences was something I have been thinking about for a long time (she says it better, of course):

"So this, I believe, is the central question upon which all creative living hinges: Do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?"

Wow. Right? I mean, that does take an ENORMOUS amount of courage. It takes courage just to find it and recognize it within yourself. But to bring it out for others to see??? That's next-level courage.

Finding Your Courage

I was recently participating in a discussion with a group of both men and women and one of the members, a woman who has been through significant trauma...I just can't stop thinking about her.

Throughout our group conversations, you could see the pain and struggle she's experiencing. But for some reason...I just felt like there was something more to her. I felt like she was going to have a colossal gift to give maybe one person, maybe thousands, if she chose to see it.

I felt like once she made it over the mountain of trauma...she would be such a gift, if she chose to be. Like, I felt it in my bones. I almost cried later when I shared that thought with her. I'm almost crying now as I type this. But I. JUST. KNOW.

The problem is that it's not up to me to decide that she has a gift to give; it's entirely up to her. And "bringing for the treasures that are hidden within" - especially when they are born of struggle and grief - is beyond scary. 

It requires an act of will stronger than many of us have ever chosen to experience. It requires being vulnerable and putting yourself out there, often when you feel least capable of doing it. But often the result, the outcome of creating a purpose out of what feels like life's carnage, is not only helpful to the recipient...it's life-changing for the giver as well.

And here's the real catch - and I've used this word over and over again throughout this blog - IT IS A CHOICE. You don't have to do it. You don't have to recognize the gift that you now have to give just by you being you. And the truth is that it does take a lot of work.

But I wish I could describe just how freeing it is to be in that moment of giving; to be so utterly yourself and to have even one person say, "Thank you for being you." 

And eventually what took so much courage just becomes this wonderful habit and a new way of living. Because you start going through difficult times not totally concentrated on the struggle but thinking, "How can I use this to help myself? How can I take this moment and help another someday?"

Your struggle then becomes your purpose and your purpose becomes your gift.

Faith May Not Be What You Think It Is

So, I'm really open you'll expand your thoughts about what faith means on this one. I realize that many could read the above quote and think I'm coming from a religious place, but this quote actually means SO MUCH MORE to me.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I did come across this quote during a class I've decided to take at church. Going to church has become extremely important to my oldest daughter and in an effort to support her, I go with her every Sunday.

And I've liked it, for the most part. I was a church-goer when Brad was alive because he was a very devout Presbyterian. After he died, I had a hard time going - not because I was angry but because I just couldn't sit still.

I've felt guilty about it because it was so important to him. So about 8 years later I tried taking the kids again. Their reluctance along with my feeling that I didn't belong eventually led to us sleeping in on Sunday mornings.

The church that my daughter started going to recently offered a class that is designed to answer questions people might have about God - whether you doubt, you want a deeper connection, or you just want to meet new people. This last year or so, I've found myself in a very "seeking" stage in my life. So, I signed up.

The first session was this morning and it was HEAVY. I didn't expect that. But now that I think about it - it makes sense. After all, if you're a doubter that probably means that something happened along the way that made you doubt - and that something could be some sort of trauma.

So, that's the backstory on this quote. I went to the class, got the workbook, came home and opened it up to this page. And while in the context of the book it's probably considered religious, that's not how I interpreted it.

FAITH as I know it

I've had a lot of questions over the years about how to "get through" widowhood and I know that everyone reading this is in their own individual space. And while I will be "getting through" widowhood for the rest of my life, I have come to have faith in the process.

Because I have faith in myself.

I will never fully understand why my husband died. But what I do understand is that that event has led me down a very meaningful and life-changing path - BECAUSE I CHOSE TO LET IT.

Since then, I am very aware of the events in my life as they're happening and recognizing in the moment that I don't fully understand the "why," but I have faith that it will make sense or come together as part of my personal puzzle. 

That's because I'm looking for it.

Years ago, when I was so plagued with anxiety I could barely leave my house, I remember my therapist asking me, "Do you understand why this is necessary?"

I immediately answered, "Yes."

That time in my life was so unbearable, but even in the moment I had faith that I needed it in some way; that some day, maybe even years later, that process was necessary.

Now, ideally, I would have rather had the self-awakening that I've had and still have my husband by my side and not be on anti-anxiety medication. But that didn't happen. The best I can do is take the situation and do something with it, whether it's on a larger scale or just being able to sit down with a friend and have a cup of coffee and understand her pain.

Making sense of it

"Making sense in reverse" is not something that just happens. It is something that takes a LOT of effort and self-reflection for each of us. But I think that's the ONE PIECE that makes the difference between unbearable grief and meaningful grief.

It's not looking back and always answering that "why" question; it's reflecting and thinking about what has happened, having a moment of peace with it, and then determining what you will do with it.

How has it changed you?

Is there a purpose behind it?

Where do you go from there?

So, while each person might take something different from this quote and define "faith" in their own way, I believe that faith is entirely about YOU. You are the faith you have in yourself. And if it helps to believe that God is assisting you, I get it. 

But on the other hand...He couldn't do it without you.

I'm Choosing to Live the Unlived Life

I was recently listening to Oprah's interview with Steven Pressfield about his book The War of Art and that prompted me to write an article for my business about his quote: "Put your ass where your heart wants to be."

In other words, show up.

Love it.

I was looking online for the exact quote to use for the article and another one caught my eye.

And that one made me stop.

In the widow community, one of the main questions we struggle with is how to move forward, move on, move somewhere (however you like to put it). Grief is a scary place and WE. WANT. OUT. I think that's the main reason we seek others to help us with our grief and find others who seem to have made it out the other side. We want proof that it's possible.

Whether you've lost a spouse or not, there's always a life unlived within us. There's always a path we didn't take, a choice that shaped who we are. Loss or not, that is something we all share.

I feel like the loss of my husband awakened things within me that I had no idea were there. Sure, in the beginning everything was too blurry to see the forest for the trees. But as things began to clear and my mind started working again, I realized there was more to me than this loss. Actually, there was more to me than just being his wife, which was something I was content to be before he died.

Even as I drove home from the hospital, suddenly involuntarily single, I KNEW my life wasn't going to center around this loss. Granted, it's taken me a lot longer than I had hoped to really get my life and be at peace with it (and that doesn't mean I don't have nights when I still cry myself to sleep). But the outcome has been more than I hoped for 12 years ago.

I'm living a fulfilling life that I might not have lived had things been different.

I'm not saying that widowhood is something I enjoy. Far from it. But it was so jarring and made EVERYTHING so completely different that I had not choice but to change.

Where I could take control was how I was going to change.

I'm living what could have been the unlived life. I'm AWAKE because of this tragedy. But that was something I chose to be and every day I think about who I could have been if I'd made a different choice.

I'm ready to live the unlived life I know is within me.