Tag: loss

Categories
freedom wallowing

When The Going Gets Tough

You Are Loved by Rossie Henderson-Begg https://rossiehb.art/ with the tea drinking covid bird underneath

What do you do when things get tough? Do you retreat into the toughness and wallow there waiting for someone to lift you out? or do you see where life is going to take? Do you go with the currents of life and trust that “all will be well and all will be and all manner of things will be well” – Julian of Norwich

I’m sharing the picture above to encourage you to sign up to my friend, Rossie’s newsletter which you can find on her website if you click the link above. Here is a young woman who has walked through tragedy, sadness and defeat, but has found a way to journey through it. She isn’t one to wallow.

Many people, whether Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, other religions or none, choose between sliding into a pit of despair when something happens – big or small – that doesn’t reach their expectations, or rising above it and accepting it as life. This can the tragic loss of someone too young and too soon, or it can be a dream that didn’t come to fruition, a relationship that they didn’t want to end that ended painfully, an exam not passed, a job not got, etc. And I’m not saying these things are not horrendous. But some people choose to stay there and wallow, almost waiting for someone to pick them up and out of it – but it can often seem that no matter what is suggested they will find a way to stay where they are.

For each of us though there is a way up and out of it.

For Rossie it is her painting, amongst other things, – which she has now bravely gone and turned into her profession. For myself it is my writing – especially the free writing – but also chatting with people. I also love to help others find that freedom and release via writing. My writing groups are not “writing for well-being” per se but they are also not for people who really want to get a book published. They are for people to explore life, the universe, their feelings, etc, via the power of creative writing!

One of my biggies too is to be outside, especially by the sea, but my local park does the same. Just to walk and enjoy the simplicity of the natural world and all its wonders helps me to get outside my own troubles, issues, and disappointments.

Prayer and connecting with God is also another amazing way. But I do think to do that one has to want to trust God to be there, not to sort things out but to hold, to love, and to listen, for prayer to turn one’s heart around. Not the situation, but one’s heart. Too often, I think, there is a disappointment with God because he doesn’t sort things as the person praying would like – doesn’t heal, bring back from the dead, restore the relationship, make the dream work out as one hoped.

Healing via QEC is another one for me. I know others who’ve found a sense of healing through Sozo, talking therapies, and many other ways. But these things must be used as a place to be freed not to prolong things. The same is true is prayer. There is no point keep mithering at God that things didn’t work out as you wanted but, like with the above therapies, it has to be a way to be healed and to move on.

My point from this post is to say that my friend could have wallowed in her grief and despair, even whilst doing her painting, but she chose not to. [check out her photo on her website] But I know of many others who choose to stay in that place. And for some I think they stay, not because they like it, but because they believe the world is a scary place and so it is better to stay in their fear, anxiety, sorrow and loss, than to step out and get slammed all over again.

There is always a choice – to stay and wallow or to find a way out of that place.

    If you check out my earlier blog – Diane’s Daily Thoughts – you’ll see I am talking from experience. And this blog from March 2012 only shows a snapshot of my journey through disappointment, loss and other shit. When someone read my Day of The Dead post they said “I didn’t realise you had dealt with so much loss”!

    Categories
    death grief trauma

    The Trauma of Grief

    Quarr Abbey grounds, Isle of Wight. Photographed by myself 9th March 2024

    Back in 2012/2013 we had what can only be describe as a “series of unfortunate events” – feel free to read about them on – End of Year Round Up and this from the end of 2013. [Please don’t sign up for this blog as I don’t write on it any more!]

    When I remember March/April 2012 and Sept 2013 I remember those times with a lot of pain and a lot of anger. As it came round to the anniversary of my friend Tessa’s death this January I did feel sad but not that angry painful sad. It was definitely a grief but not like the feels I have around memories of 2012/13. So this got me thinking.

    It came to me after I posted Roadside Shrines the other day – what I was feeling from 2012/13 was the trauma of grief which then clouded the grief itself. I was not able to really mourn the loss of whose who had died in any real sense without seeing/feeling the trauma of it all.

    By being able to recognise that what was going on was that I was dealing with the trauma of the respective deaths I have been able to let go of that. I have been able to be healed of the trauma of the events. I can let go of the how and why they died and grieve the loss rather than the “what could I/anyone have done to make things different/to stop it from happening?”

    I am now free to miss each person and grieve for them as individuals.

    I do wonder if these roadside shrines help one to deal with the trauma of the deaths and so move on to being able to deal with the loss of a person – friend/family member/colleague/someone of your community?

    Who knows. But what I know is that being healed of the trauma has helped me see the human beings who I have lost. And, for me, that is a good thing.

    Categories
    Listen to my heart wedding anniversary

    17th Wedding Anniversary

    Photographed January 2020

    This photograph was taken on our 14th wedding anniversary somewhere in Yorkshire [I think]. I’ve picked it because I think it symbolised marriage for me – a simple bridge over uncertain waters.

    So we have made it to 17 years!! Neither of us has ever been a relationship this long, apart from with parents or me with my children. I am still amazed – not just that we are together but that we still do enjoy each other’s company on the whole.

    We are very much not the people we married 17 years ago. I often thought, when I was younger, that when one reached middle age one’s personality and ways of being would become settled, etched in stone [I was 45 when I married my “toy boy” was only 38] but that’s not true. We have walked through many things since being married – untimely deaths of friends and family, my teenage children growing up and leaving home and all the stuff that went with that. We’ve moved house, got pets, learned things, got healed of things, made new friends and hung on to some older ones. Combined some of those friends so that they are “our friends” and kept some that are just our own. Our energy levels have changed too. We’ve changed inside and out. Sometimes in harmony and sometimes clashing. We’ve had times when I am surprised we are still together and times I couldn’t imagine us apart.

    This year’s anniversary is different from the rest. Our plan, when we still had children living at home, was to take off on the nearest weekend to our anniversary and stay in a nice hotel, just the two of us, within a couple of hours to our home. Even when the children left home we kept up this tradition. Although last year we stayed at home. For me I think it was because I had just said goodbye to my dear friend Tessa, who died the day before our 16th anniversary. So the whole idea of going away when I’d just been away visiting her was a bit much for my heart. But we were at least spent it together.

    But this year we saw each other briefly on the morning of our anniversary before my husband’s taxi came to take him off to the airport for a business trip and I took the dog out. It is not unusual now lockdown is a thing of the past for my husband to go away but it is the first anniversary we’ve spent apart.

    It is strange because I often say that I don’t “do our anniversary” but with him not here I realise that I miss not being able to “not do” this time. It made me think of all those other anniversaries that sometimes our bodies react to but our minds forget. Those times of loss, of celebration, of trauma, of something unexpected. And as one grows older there are more and more of them – both grief and celebration, both sadness and celebration – and too often we try to just push through.

    I’ve wondered why I kept yesterday’s Josh Luke Smith email but I think it fits with what I’m saying here. We need to take the time out to listen to our HEART, our BODY and our MIND so that we can “locate where we are, give ourselves all we need to be as truly ourselves as we could be in that moment” –

    IN THAT MOMENT – not forever, not for tomorrow, but just for this moment when we feel what we feel, when we aren’t sure what’s going on because we are trying to push through things, push things down, push things away, push onwards and yet feel lost in and of ourselves. It only takes a moment to check in and only then can we know where we are, why we feel as we feel, accept it all and then be our true and authentic selves.

    So a dog walking friend saying to me yesterday “you don’t seem yourself” made me check-in with my heart, body and mind and made me realise I miss my husband not being with me for an anniversary I didn’t realise I was that bothered about. But my heart, mind and body did.

    After doing all this QEC I’m always amazed that I don’t tune in more often but being the complex creature that I am sometimes I need to hear it from another source. And God in God’s great wisdom knew exactly how to do that 🙂

    Categories
    Day of the Dead grief loss

    Day of the dead

    Conwy Beach in October 2021 with the sun trying to break through the clouds and rise. Photographed by Diane Woodrow
    Conwy Beach – October 2021 – 7.35am – taken by myself

    I had been planning this blog post in my head for a few days as I am learning how I need a special day when I can honour and remember those who have gone before me. Then Sunday on Facebook was a post from a friend that appeared to be saying that a mutual friend, someone who had supported myself and my husband through a time of grief, had died. Then Monday there was an email from another friend to confirm that this lovely man had had two or three heart attacks on Saturday and had not recovered. It is a reminder that death comes suddenly to anyone and seems poignant that Nigel is the first person I will mention in this post and the most recent to leave this world. He was an amazingly pastoral person. I can still picture him keeping a straight, kind face even as our puppy drank his cup of tea whilst he was praying for us, or crawled on the back of the couch behind him and rolled downwards into his neck. Those are my big memories of Nigel. And even as I pray for his family – wife, children and grandchildren – I can still smile at that memory from nine and a half years ago.

    My first death that really affected me was also my first suicide. He was my boss and we went to the funeral as an office group. No one knew why he had taken his own life so we sat with pints on the table and talked of the good things about him, of which there were many. Pat taught me that people are more complicated than the novels I was reading.

    My youngest death was a lad whose parents had asked my boyfriend and I, both of us in our 20s, to be the “responsible adults” at Simon’s 18th birthday party. We were very honoured. The next time we saw his parents was 10 days later at Simon’s funeral. At 18 and one day Simon had gone off on his brand new motorbike with a friend and been impaled on a lamp post. He left me with a memory of seizing every moment because of never knowing what is round the corner.

    Around this similar time my grandmother died. But I had lost her around twenty years ago when she had endured a major stroke and never really spoken again. With her I learned that grief is complicated and can arise many years after the loss.

    My sister’s death was more complicated but that was the relationship her and I had; complicated. But for fifty years of my life she stopped me from being an only child. I miss having a sister though I am not sure I miss her per se. Again a lesson in how complicated relationships are.

    I miss my friend, Felicity. Tthe more I delve into my own writing around Welsh Medieval history the more I wish she was still here to read what I was writing. It was with her that I explore historical novels and authors that we both adored.

    Our friend, Jon, took his own life just after my sister died. Even though I still have time being cross with him for his decisions I can still laugh at silly dinner party conversations we would share which would drive the rest of those at the table into frustration. One that comes to mind today is of us in fits of giggle talking of how those who built Stonehenge managed to get the stones from Wales by strapping sheep together into fluffy rafts and placing the stones on them to drift across the Bristol Channel.

    I cannot end this list of names without mentioning my father-in-law. Another one who chose to take his own life but even still I will remember him as the man who welcomed me into his family, when I started dating his son, knowing that because of my age and that I already had two teenagers I would not be blessing his son with children that would carry on the family name, and of how he publicly called my two teens his grandchildren.

    I am not going to list all those that I have lost because there are many and I do not want to forget any. Friends, family, colleagues, and more besides who left this world in many different ways – suicides, heart attack, cancer, accident, old age, and other ways. These today are just a snapshot of my life as well as theirs.

    Each person that I have know, those mentioned by name and those not, have affected my life in many different ways, and still do even today. I’ve learned so much from those I’ve known, about life, about myself and more. Even though I grieve for the fact that they have died before me I am grateful that they were in my life for however long or short the relationship, however deep or trivial.

    So I will continue to allow people close to me even if it means there could be pain in ending because life and people are too rich to not walk with for however long. This is my post to honour them