Jan 30, 2013

Don't Be Sorry, Really. It's Weird.

I've mentioned earlier on here how "I'm sorry for your loss" is not my favorite phrase. Now am I able to add some concrete to the reason for this.

I'm sorry for your loss separates the person saying it from whom they are saying it to.  It isolates the loser.  It made me feel like the subject of a story the person was reading.  It made me feel alone.  Out here, all by myself with my loss.  It felt to me like, "I have removed myself from your loss.  Sorry."

Sorry is something you say when you're seeking forgiveness after wronging someone.  It doesn't make sense to say you are sorry unless you caused the loss.  This sentiment never reached me, I had no use for it.

When you have the opportunity to speak to someone who has experienced loss, it might be more healing to share your love more expressly.  If you feel compelled to mention loss, it feels less isolating to be told, "What a loss."  Though, no one ever said this to me, so I can't be sure how it would make me feel.

Again, a heartfelt "How are you?" opens the lines of communication, allows the other person to share or not, and it feels like there is care and inclusion.

Try it out on someone you love!~

Jan 29, 2013

Puppy it Up

So, this is going to be like one of those episodes of a show where it's a new episode, but it's really a conglomeration of snippits from previous episodes.

"Brynn" painted by Candace Cotterman

Today is Brynn's birthday.  She would be three.  For the past three years, the days leading up to January 29 have been splattered with PTSD triggers, sending me back to those first horrible moments.  That was some deep grief.  But it doesn't feel bad to relive it.  It feels good.  Because looking back, I can see myself crossing the threshold to a more authentic style of living.  I gave myself permission to say "Yeah, I know my baby girl just died but I'm not being sad about it in this moment.  I'm being irreverent because it feels good, it lightens the air, it relieves the pressure.  If you can't handle it, go cry somewhere else."  I gave myself permission to let this movie reel of my life be about me.

I gave myself permission to speak to the dead.  I gave myself permission to listen to the dead.  I gave permission to buy myself little gifts, trying on for the first time an abundance mentality.

These permissions led to other permissions, releasing my spirit, little by little, to experience more joy in life.  Those word don't convey how significant this is.   MORE JOY IN LIFE!

Attracting to myself a circle of women that would blow your mind.

Inside of me, Brynn was a crazy baby.  It feels like I must have made this up, it's so unbelievable, but at her 20 week ultrasound we saw her repeatedly trying to kick her legs over her head, front walk-over style.

In the last days, she would kick me so hard, I could feel, and see, her foot sticking out of my belly.  She was a strong and vivacious girl.  And her spirit is so effervescently light.  Like fizzy pink lemonade.

My sister-in-life Kate had a dream about Brynn last week.  They were playing with a litter of puppies together.  Brynn shared with her this wisdom:  Gather for yourself the compassion, the joy, and the fun of living as though you were playing with puppies.  Give to yourself the love and sweetness that a puppy would evoke.  Essentially; be the puppy.

I woke up with a call to action this morning:  Play.  Celebrate Brynn today with play.  We went sledding down the driveway before school.

Today I give myself permission to admit to you, and to myself,  that I am so grateful that this is my life.  I am so freaking grateful for Brynn.  For who she is.  For what she teaches me.  Today I tell you that I would not change a thing.  Happy Birthday, lovey.