The Path to Healing
Dear Mom,
When you died unexpectedly in 1992, I was heartbroken, not even sure I could continue. You were my rock, my strength when I was afraid; you offered hope in dark moments. I wasn’t ready for you to leave. Suddenly I was an orphan, alone in a frightening world. I needed you, but you were not there anymore. How would I ever cope?
Little by little, I began to retreat from the world. No one really noticed. I had the perfect excuse–a family to nurture. My cozy home offered the ideal hiding place. I still taught and volunteered, so no one ever guessed my secret. Gradually my world became smaller and smaller. Driving at high speeds or in wide open spaces became daunting. Driving far from my little castle high up in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire seemed impossible. The world beyond felt dangerous.
How many people must experience this after a sudden loss—of a parent, child, lover or friend. How terrifying does life become when we suddenly feel abandoned? Where do we turn? What fills that void? How do we anesthetize ourselves to that searing pain?
After such a loss, many people blame themselves–if only they had done something differently. Clearly they don’t deserve happiness, they reason, or this never would have transpired. If it happened once, surely it might reoccur. Feeling that pain seems too horrific to ever take a risk again. Far better to hide and numb oneself.
What kind of a life, though, comes from hiding and numbing?
The next question, then, is this. How do we find our way back to some semblance of happiness? What steps can we take to initiate our walk back into the world? To take control little by little of our lives?
There are many tools available now—mindfulness, meditation, tapping, yoga, breath work, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, EMDR, among others. Perhaps the first step, though, is to open to self compassion by honoring our humanness. Every emotion has value, even the ones we prefer to avoid. Terrible things do happen, but recognizing that we have survived allows us to encounter a new strength within; a light deeply buried begins to emerge.
Maybe one day we will see why things played out as they did; perhaps we will never know. Of importance, though, is recognizing that we are now free to move forward in our own lives.
When we tap into our courage, we learn to feel a profound kindheartedness for ourselves and others. Each person faces unique challenges but the underlying fears are similar. Taking small steps to unlock our hearts, we comprehend that others are seeking the same light. Gradually we realize that our difficulties have the potential to help us create a greater life. An emerging purpose impels us forward. Opening to fresh opportunities, we meet new people.
Life becomes a gift. There are no guarantees of ease. Yet when we see from a higher perspective, we perceive the stream of light that connects all of humanity. Every human experiences thrilling and horrific moments. When we understand this similarity, we feel a deep connection that erases the loneliness and, instead, offers an uplifting unity. This is joy.
Mom, it still seems unfathomable that you left me thirty two years ago. My path to healing has been long and arduous. Letter writing has been key! Now I know for sure that you are always there urging me onward. For this, I am deeply grateful.
Love,
Helen
