Grief is painful and it overtakes the entire spirit. When it hits - it can pull the rug from underneath you and leave you feeling lost and alone and afraid. Grief is also love. A friend reminded me over and over that the grief was so potent because the love that I shared for my father was so big. That gave me solace and comfort because hot damn - the grief was overpowering. Today, it has softened while existing fully within me.
I made it through a year and things now just feel different. Thankfully they do because I was dreaming about the days that I wouldn’t feel the adrenaline of anticipation that then spiraled me into anxiety and claustrophobia. It was awful and it also taught me that in the moments where I feel like I’m squeezing through the tiniest tunnel of all time - it means I’m almost to the other side. I have to practice patience and allow myself to be in that space - because as the saying goes - this too shall pass. It will. And it does. And grief will continue to visit as it wants to, when it wants to, without notice.
The moment I arrived at all of the firsts without my dad behind me, I felt a weight lifted. I felt the oxygen mask come off and I could breath on my own again. I did still feel lost but I had clarity.
I felt nervous to put myself out into the world but I knew I was ready. I tip toe out and in the moments where it feels too abrasive - I come back home to myself and get myself grounded.
My energy is different - my perspective on life is different - my relationships to everything are different - and I’m glad I’m different.
My experience that I lived through is now sacred and most don’t have access to my journey of survival and rebirth. The passing of my father is a part of my identity now and my resilience of how I got myself off the floor each day is how I define myself as a leader today. I had people holding me tight - ready to show up when I sent the SOS signals - and those that checked in regularly to remind me that I wasn’t alone. But the truth is - you can only fully feel your grief alone. No one can expedite the pain, no one can make you feel better, and no one can relate fully to your experience and relationship to it. I learnt this lesson clearly and I’m forever grateful for those that stood by me each moment of every day - and who continue to be with me.
In some ways I’m more compassionate than I’ve ever been - which I truly never thought that would be possible - and in some ways I have close to zero tolerance for things I used to let slide. A dear friend of mine shared during our conversation on my podcast (Hospitality from Within) that “life is long”. I couldn’t agree more!
I’ve been sitting with this statement for months because for almost a year - I swore that life was short because of my experience. But that didn’t feel right within me. Life is long and you get to choose if that’s how you want to live it! One day is 24hours - when you are fully present in each moment of those 24hours - even when you’re snoozing for however many hours (I need 8-9 hours!) - 24hours can feel like so much more! And this I love. I love feeling like time can feel endless.
Quality time is my love language – I love to get lost in time with myself and people in my collective. I love to dive deep into conversations, topics and to dance around together for as long as each person is available to. So yeah, life is long, as long as you choose that path.
I truly despise being a part of the DDC (dead dad’s club) - because I miss the heck out of him every single moment of each day. And I’m slowly starting to integrate my father into my somatic practice so I can be connected to him further without falling apart. My practitioner is an angel and in our last session she said to me “I’m not leaving you - I’m with you through it all. I’m here.” These words are the constant theme in my life, in how I show up in my relationships, and is what makes me feel safe to dive deep in the moments of fear. The fact is that we are all learning how to be adults through our younger selves. So yeah - we all need to be reassured that we aren’t alone in both the sticky & scary moments and the moments of joy of celebration too - don’t forget the mundane ones either.
Leading while processing grief is hard as f***.
Leading myself and others while processing grief is an adventure. I am familiar with loss and death. But the death of a parent / caretaker is unlike anything I have experienced. I committed to myself along the way; I stood rooted in my catch phrase “just show up.” And that I did. I continue to do so, and I teach others to do the same - unapologetically as everything that you are in that moment. No pretending. We aren’t leaving our baggage at the door - we aren’t sharing it openly - but we are honoring that we are carrying it with us - and we show up.
Leading while processing grief is hard as f***. And when you make it to the space where you feel different and you are honoring the difference - the love, the pain, the joy, the longing for - it’s liberating and calmer. I’m proud to have arrived here - each day shows up in its unique way. I’ve learnt how to lead myself to the depths of myself and in turn, lead others from a place of vulnerability, honesty, trust and everything I am today.
Some resources that helped me and continue to help me navigate my journey thus far:
Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant - It took me almost a full year to read the book - I picked it up when I was ready to read the next chapter.
Sensory Deprivation Floats at Vessel Floats - my nervous system needs a lot of love
Acupuncture with my healer to open the medians and support my adrenaline system. The most impactful one was the swirling heart treatment.
Movement - running is my medicine but I needed to dance. Dancing reminded me that joy and grief co-exist.
Somatic practice - I knew I would need support and I also didn’t want talk therapy. This is very personal to me and everyone has their own process and needs. I knew I needed help with the panic and adrenaline that now lives in my body. It’s been so potent and supporting me in all aspects of me - not just in this targeted experience of my life.
Journaling - I wrote a lot so I could get it out and validate how absolutely heavy each day was and also how much love, gratitude and joy I felt
Creativity while using my hands so I could get out of my head - I started a mini soap factory in my apartment.
Sound journey - whether they are self guided at home or within community.
This is just a short list of all of my resources, tools and medicine. These are very aligned with who I am, my needs, my curiosities and each individual will have a different looks, smell or list that has helped them lead themselves to others.
My wish in sharing my story is that it gives hope, permission, a moment of weightless breath to anyone who is leading while processing grief. You are not alone but your experience is singular and only you can lead yourself through it.
I’m here with you.