uncertainty

Holding On, Letting Go

emilydownward

For the past six months, I’ve been on a journey, emotionally, spiritually and physically. The ending of my relationship thrust me into the chaos of grief and being uprooted without a home base, and it also sent me into an intense healing period and connecting to myself at an even deeper level. I’ve become more in tune with my spiritual center, and less interested in superficiality. I’ve had to let go of many attachments, to people and things, and I’ve found I can get by on much less stuff than I thought.

When I packed a couple suitcases in September, I had no idea it would be six months before I discovered and decided where I wanted to live, found a place, and recollected my things from storage. I guess I could have sped up the process – with my work being virtual, I can live and work from anywhere with good internet and phone service – but I wanted to allow myself time to grieve and not make a hasty decision, to not make a quick decision out of fear and uncertainty but to allow the time to regain my peace and choose wisely.

It hasn’t been easy. Even with all the coaching tools and knowledge, it’s still difficult to let go sometimes. I cling to old ideas of who I thought I was, how I thought my dreams would look, and my heart still wants some of those dreams. I’ve had to grieve the loss and tease out the parts of my dreams that I can hold on to, and those I have to surrender. I still get to keep the essence of the dream, but I know it won’t look like I thought it would. I’m choosing to believe it will look even better than I thought, even though that is currently an exercise in faith.

Trying to hold on is painful – it’s impossible to succeed and it’s painful. The pain for me manifests physically, and I’ve been dealing with some extreme physical pains lately – an indication that the letting go is a process, and I’m still working on allowing it.

It all melts away...all that doesn't serve.I listened to a guided meditation recently that included this phrase: “It all melts away…all that doesn’t serve.” I liked it – I liked it enough to open my eyes and write it down before resuming the meditation! It makes me feel better about letting go, realizing that those things (people, ideas, or objects) no longer serve me. And it reminds me to focus instead on what DOES serve me. I’ve also found this refocusing helpful when dealing with so much uncertainty – focusing instead on what I am certain about, even if sometimes that’s not much! For example, I can get pretty wound up about being technically homeless, or I can give thanks for the friends and family who have graciously invited me into their homes and to their tables. I can recognize that I have a roof over my head, somewhere to sleep, food in my belly. And, I can remember that having always moved around and travelled (being, as my Auntie Norma calls me, a gypsy at heart), I am always at home in my body, wherever on the earth that happens to be. Focusing on the certainties helps me relax, even if just a bit, and that enables access to the creative parts of my brain, allowing me to come up with solutions and ideas.

Many people I know, friends and clients and colleagues, are also dealing with incredible changes and losses. If you are experiencing massive changes and letting go, I encourage you to focus inwardly, find your inner peace – the part of you that is always okay, always perfect. Some may call this the soul or the spirit or your essential self. Connect with that part as often as you can and allow yourself time and space to grieve, feeling your emotions and allowing them to wash through you. Find the essence of your dreams, those pieces you can keep, and let go of the rest. In letting go of those things you try to grasp in your hands, you open your hands to receive something new.

Getting Through the Muck

emilydownward

“Rather than letting our negativity get the better of us, we could acknowledge that right now we feel like a piece of shit and not be squeamish about taking a good look.” ~ Pema ChödrönA coach friend called me recently to catch up. She is near and dear to me, but we hadn’t spoken in about four weeks. The last four weeks have been quite a rollercoaster for me, and I’ve gotten so used to riding along, it wasn’t until I heard her response that I realized it’s true: I’ve had a lot going on. A lot of chaos and unknown and just crappy stuff.

I’m in the midst of a cross-country move, going from the Charlotte, NC area to just north of San Diego, CA. My boyfriend received a well-deserved promotion, and we both were thrilled with the opportunity to live in the San Diego area. Being a corporate relocation, the move is being coordinated by my boyfriend’s company. I was grateful, having moved from Austin to Charlotte earlier this year and not completely looking forward to doing it again. Unfortunately, every single step of this process has gone badly, including lack of communication and miscommunication with the coordinator, the poor skills and sloppiness of the packers, multiple delays of the movers, careless handling of our stuff by the movers (they dropped at least three boxes that I saw), the damage to our vehicles by the shippers, and difficulty in obtaining permanent housing due to the shortage of available properties where we want to live. We’ve been put in a temporary apartment for the past month – it’s incredibly small, especially considering we are both working from home, and the traffic noise from the nearby busy street keeps us awake. (I’m happy to report that we finally get into a permanent place next week!)

My hip has been paining me for several months, slowly getting more painful and less flexible. I’ve gone from a triathlon last year to using crutches and a cane to get around. It significantly worsened (pain and inability to walk) while we were moving out of our place in the Charlotte area. I figured I had overdone it and with rest it would get better…but it hasn’t. Before the move, I saw an orthopedic surgeon who said I needed surgery, but I purposefully delayed it until we are settled in our new place. I’ve now seen an orthopedic surgeon in California who recommends a cortisone shot. I’m holding tightly to the belief that this will fix it.

I supplement my coaching income with some consulting work, and the company I’ve been working for has recently changed the terms of our arrangement. While I know that they want to continue to work with me (yes!), my future income is less predictable.

Suffice it to say, I have a LOT of uncertainty in my life. It’s very disconcerting and frightening and scary. So much unknown.

I realized that in some ways, I’ve gotten used to the chaos. I’ve been able to switch between eagle view – taking the big picture, and knowing that this will pass and will someday seem like a very small time frame – and mouse view – focusing solely on what is directly in front of me. It’s not necessarily one day at a time but sometimes just one step, literally. It’s what I learned to get myself through the triathlon: when I looked far in the distance and was overwhelmed by the hill I was biking or the distance I had to run, I put my head down and just looked two feet in front of me. I asked myself, can you go that far (2 feet)? Well, yes, of course. It’s so easy. And then repeat. Breaking down any large project into tiny, infinitesimal steps makes it nearly easy to achieve, and therefore more likely to lead to progress, rather than being paralyzed by overwhelm.

I read a great blog post recently by Danielle LaPorte on how validating your pain is the first step to getting stronger. It’s so true. It was so nice to hear my friend validate that I’ve got a lot going on. I’ve been trying desperately not to focus on all the negativity and frustration and pain I’m experiencing, but ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. “What we resist, persists.” So I’m putting it all out here, to give you the permission to share your own pain, and to give hope to others who are struggling through their own desert of uncertainty. Find support for your struggle, and then press on, one step at a time, and know that this too shall pass.