Mostly, they describe it as an ‘outer’ loss — a loved one has died; health is impaired; they’ve lost purpose or sense of direction…
The more they look outside themselves for relief, the worst the ache becomes. If I could only have… be… do… then I could feel good…
Loss does that. It makes us believe that we’re incomplete without that which we crave so badly.
Herein lies the rub.
Joy is an inside job.
Always.
What if it were as simple as picking up a straw and blowing paint across a page?
I know, I know. When you’re not enjoying life, you want to slap the one who says, ‘Lighten up! Have more fun! Be kind to yourself…’
I remember nurses saying “Look after yourself,” as each visit ended, over the four months I nursed my husband from his diagnosis of brain cancer through to his transition.
For three months at home we had no medical support, (until the last 10 days) apart from a district nurse visiting once or twice a week. There was no care package in place. No sitters to offer a break.
Friends were mostly at a distance. Those close by were wonderful, bringing prepared food and warm company when we could manage it. All were so very, very loving. Their kindness filled our hearts each day with soothing messages and funny videos and visits with sweet doglets and more…
But the minute to minute care of my beloved who couldn’t communicate his needs in any way, that was down to me. As the nurses directed me to look after myself, I wanted to say, “And just how, exactly, do I do that?”
When reality is a tsunami of troubles and traumas, the ‘enjoy’ word may seem insulting. The simplest act could hold within it a promise of joy, but we can’t get near it.
Today’s been tough. Emotions all over the show. I found myself envying the Queen her letting go of all of life’s struggles recently…
Yes, a tougher day today than of late.
But one thought runs like a lifeline through it.
“Come to the infinite dimension.”
From a dismal beginnings it’s become like spending a day with The Ancient One! (Ninja mystic monk-sorceress in Marvel’s Dr Strange.) Beaten up regularly but always restored. Life being ruthless, yet kind…
When faced with loss of any kind — loss of a loved one, loss of direction, loss of function or identity…
…We find ourselves in a world gone grey. A world without meaning, without sweetness, a world where problems are the only reality and we’re too worn down to face them.
If we have lost our power to imagine, we have nothing to bring to a landscape of loss. We’ve no hope of rainbows… or so we think.
“A rainbow is a prism that sends shards of multicoloured light in various directions. It lifts our spirits and makes us think of what is possible. Hope is the same — a personal rainbow of the mind.” Charles Richard Snyder
I think joy works likewise. I think joy is more accessible than we imagine, when facing the infinite grey… I think joy works like a prism of the mind.
Pristine focus is the prism. Align it with the light and a rainbow forms. Brilliant. Shimmering. Heavenly.
But the slightest misalignment and the rainbow is gone. As if it had never existed. And never will again.
The focus required is absolute.
Curled up on the couch I was. Crying again.
Lord, when will it all end?
The day had started well enough. A day without structure. A day just for me.
No events booked. No people to see. No pressure, no fuss, no muss…
I crave days like that, as life becomes busier. I love time to myself. To be free.
But, sure as mustard, my day took a nose-dive. It ditched me right into the sea. The ocean of misery swallowed me whole.
Again.
Seriously. Enough already. What’s with all this sobbing?
Maybe you’re grieving, as I am, the loss of your soulmate, your reason-to-be.
Perhaps you are struggling to find light to live by in times that seem unbearably sad.
Or you could just be noticing you’ve not smiled so much lately, your forehead creased into slight frowning...
Whatever ‘amok’ your mind may be running, I hope the following helps — my journaled reflections as I took on the perils of my puppy-dog mind.
So, here I am, it’s 3 am and fear is playing its game with me again.
Tears. Worry. Anxiety.
Powerlessness presses the air from my lungs.
My puppy dog mind has diarrhoea, I think to myself.
The reframe brings some relief. I imagine a ‘loose’ pooping puppy making a heck of a mess in my mind…
I sit on the side of the bed and let the tears flow.
It’s ok. It’s ok. You’re safe. We’ve got you.
“Really?” I say to the voices I’ve practised imagining in my head. “Because, I’ve got to say it feels FAR from ok and I SO don’t feel safe!
Do you understand the concept of money running out? No steady income? And not knowing what I should be doing every moment of the day to allow myself to align with the abundance I seek? And the exhaustion of constantly second-guessing myself?
Do you actually KNOW what that’s like?”
I all but spit the words out to the Dream Team of my mind’s creating...
Fortunately, they can cope.
“Not really, no, Amanda. You have us there. But that’s because we’re here, where all your abundance IS.
We can’t feel your fear because we know that it’s all working out for you.
We’ve got every desire boxed off. Truly.
Your every dream come true. It’s all here.
We’re bending over backwards to bring you to it.
But you’ve got to make your way here.
There’s no bringing it to you, as you know…”
No wonder we feel so stuck!
There’s a time for acknowledging current reality, for sure. But what happens when we focus on a reality we don’t like and don’t know how to resolve?
Every system in our world is geared towards magnifying the problem.
We obsess over it.
We tell and retell the story of it.
It becomes all-consuming in our efforts to resolve it.
We’re scolded if we don’t ‘face reality’. We’re branded ‘Pollyanna’ with eye-rolling and exasperation if we dare to defy the advice of those rooted in problem-focused thinking.
The problem soon becomes huge in our experience. Our power diminishes as we try taking action to fix the ugly issue, or distance ourselves from it — the thorn in our side.
How often do we act and fail, only to set ourselves up for more of the same misery, or worse?
Or perhaps we become utterly hopeless like dogs so repeatedly punished that they no longer attempt to leave their cage, even when the door is left wide open…
And then, after a life time of disempowerment, of ‘knowing’ our innate futility, loss finds us, in some major form. Loss of a loved one, loss of health or wealth, loss of direction, loss of anima.
We find ourselves in a world gone grey. A world without meaning, without sweetness, a world where problems are the only reality and we’re too worn down to face them.
If we have lost our power to imagine, we have nothing to bring to a landscape of loss.
“Joy arises out of our very core. Joy is not dependent on other people or outer circumstances. Joy arises when you come home. Joy is to enter into your own inner being, into your own self.”
― Swami Dhyan Giten, The Call of the Heart
It is the still, silent, unchanging core. The core that is motion in stillness, laughter in silence, unchanging and yet never the same for even two heartbeats together…
A busy working mum takes her child into the supermarket. He’s a tall boy of seven, with dark, intelligent eyes, a puppy dog smile and a slight lisp when he speaks.
A casual observer would see the boy charging up and down aisles with the energy of a springer spaniel — keen to be involved, full of grins and noisy with it.
A closer look would show us something slightly odd. Each time the boy returns to his mother’s side, he thrusts his left hand in her face. The hand is grubby, inked with letters. The third time the hand flashes in front of her, the bemused woman reads the word he’s written there in pen:
“Sorry”