May I Make A Suggestion? Accept the Process.

I am fearful of the least traveled path. I am a hiker, and I stay on the well maintained, clearly-marked national/state/city park trails. Yes, I know. There was that one time in Sedona. However, aside from that exploratory deviation, I usually stay the course. I thrive in environments that operate in order. I am a fan of boundaries and I appreciate being handed a hard copy of the instructions to the game before you deal me in. If you do not have instructions, don’t fret, I am usually very excited to begin crafting manuals, folders, standardized procedures and bullet point lists for myself under the guise that I’m doing it for the greater good of everyone involved. Without these documented rules, I am very uncomfortable. In short, I am afraid of the dark.

In the past two months, I realized that my stellar planning does not equal preparation. Planning is a good exercise, but Life will have its way with us regardless of our personal growth. I am learning this hard lesson in my grieving process.

There are occasions when death stays at bay and allows you quiet space with your loved one before that person transitions out of their physical home. I have experienced this twice as cancer multiplied in the cells of my sister who died in 1996 and my sister-friend who died 8 weeks ago. I was young and immature when my sister passed, and I missed out on the opportunity to love on her when she was transitioning. I thought that I could make up for that loss of time with my sister by honoring the transition of my sister-friend. I was gifted with days to sit and talk; laugh and cry; plan and prepare before she passed on. At the time, I understood that this was a gift. I understand it now as a gift, and I will cherish that time. I mistakenly believed that by honoring those last days with her, the level of pain and guilt would be less for me compared to what I felt when my sister died. It did not lessen the pain and guilt at all.

I am vaguely familiar with the five stages of grief though I can only readily recall the last stage: Acceptance. I yearn for Acceptance, so I planned to skip through the other stages and get to Acceptance quickly and without the drama. My plan consisted of these key elements:

· A clean diet

· Acts of kindness

· Daily meditation

· 7-8 hours of sleep

· Self-directed yoga

· Lots of water

Yes. I thought that proper health practices would shield me from the pain, depression, isolation and despair of grief. I created a belief so strong that when Life came for me, I did not recognize it.

I am an early riser. I boast to my son that I get up before the birds. I can be found most days at 6:00 AM outside with my yoga mat, looking for the morning star. It was odd to me that around a week after my sister-friend died, I couldn’t get out of bed before 9:00 AM. My body was heavy and I was groggy. I woke up a few mornings wondering if I had been drinking the night before (behavioral conditioning from my heavy drinking days). When I did get out of bed, it only took a few minutes to energize myself. The bullet point list above did not save me from grief, but it kept my energy level optimized, which convinced me that I was fine. I continued to go through the motions, figuring that my body was telling me to get more rest. Around two weeks after her death, I started getting irritated with people who were happy. I did not want to hear or read about anyone’s positive progress, and I cared little for my own self-development. As a side note, readers should know that I am working toward my entire existence to center around love and support for myself and others, however, in a few weeks, I had forgotten that journey and leaned into the role of a silent hater. I couldn’t seem to make time for myself. I could not communicate with the people who love me. I stopped caring for my garden. My diet choices were inconsistent. In the month of July, I wrote in my journal only once. The entry is tear stained and odd:

I tell you the truth. No one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again. Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.

I still did not know that I was grieving, though I was sinking further and further into silence and lethargy. It was a text from a sister-friend who recently lost her father that shook me. The text was encouraging and supportive, but the words that struck me were, “you lost someone.”

I don’t know if it was her choice of words or if it was simply time for me to face reality, but her text gave me permission to recognize that grief is collective and individual. The emotions that I shared with others who lost her were different than the emotions I experienced once I was alone. I thought that because I planned the journey, I could manipulate the process, however, it is not my process to manipulate. I thought that Acceptance meant I would have peace with her passing. I was wrong. Acceptance is not the last stage in the grieving process. It is the stage that lasts.

I accept her energy and love that flow through me. I accept the new role that I have in the lives of her beautiful daughters. I accept the healing she granted me in a fractured relationship. I accept her challenge to face my fears. I accept her naming me the architect of the Discipline of Happiness. I accept her wish for her ashes to be used to plant a tree in my yard. I accept the process that I did not design. I accept the growth that it creates in me.

Life will disrupt our plans. It is wise to accept the process. The pain doesn’t last forever. The acceptance does.