Showing Up, Even When It Hurts.

2009 started with the awful task of removing people from my phone and email list. All will remain in my heart, yet, death has irrevocably severed our relationship and has left a chasm filled foggy landscape.

Over the past few months I have been part of significant family, community and personal transition. As a coach and activist I realize that much of the discomfort currently present in my life is similar to the grind that many feel and struggle with daily. The physically and emotional challenges I am facing are unique to me, yet shared by many. Therefore I have decided to publish a brief account my experiences, both as an honoring and documentation of how upheaval manifests itself. As I reflect upon shared memories my goal is to respect others pain, while exploring grief, death, change and the continuum of life.

Mid 2008 my husband (Nick) and I were discussing big life questions. For him questioning his current life / career path. For me how to deepen my creative / coaching / organizational practice. This bought up considerable discomfort for us and in truth we hesitated on forming tangible goals. Within a few months Nick's employer advised that the San Francisco project was ceasing, all staff let go, Nick was offered a transfer to Washington DC. This unleashed a dilemma of where and how we chose to live, and mostly what uprooting meant beyond the thrill of change. October we enjoyed wedding celebrations with Nick's brother Michael and his wonderful partner Ian. By Thanksgiving we had 90% resolved to relocate.

On December 10 the cozy world we inhabited was shocked, Ian, Michael's husband, died suddenly of a heart attack. Ian the living person, was now gone. Nick and I packed clothing for a few days and moved in with Michael and Ian's daughter Kristine. Grief was palpable, heartfelt confusion overwhelming, the business requirements of a death and funeral needs was full with unrelenting expectation. Five days later Nick's good friend from college, Jhumki died of metastasized breast cancer, our wonderful vital friend no longer with us. On New Years Eve, Nick's grandmother Memere died, and a few weeks later my grandmother Thelma passed away.

Amongst this intensity Nick's project was requiring his undivided attention. My days were filled with traveling back and forth from California to Washington DC house hunting, and taking responsibility for the packing up of my studio and our home. Gradually we became under-slept, intensely disoriented, and emotionally fragile. The momentum of our choice to relocate was abstract and decisions were made based on expedience rather than thoughtful analysis. We entered into a period, dominated by trusting our instincts and finding sanctuary that offered comfort. An example of this was after the movers had collected our processions, we camped out in our scantly furnished California apartment for 4 days. This allowed us privacy, vague familiarity with our cats, and a local base to farewell friends.

We arrived in DC just before 6am on a red-eye from California with two cats and many suitcases. With multi-faceted exhaustion we have stepped into our new life. What deeply flavors my day is grief. Missing our loved ones and wrestling with the reality of loss. Subconsciously willing our old life, pre-deaths and pre-move, to return and sweep us up in cozy familiarity. I know this is impossible. Each day I arise with deep exhaustion, physical aches and pains and a lack of intimacy in my surroundings. As with the grief for those who have died, our past has truly ended. We have no choice but to start again. We are blessed that our instincts drew us to a Washington DC neighborhood that has a community soul.

Although my whole person is still in a fog I am grateful for my developed tenacity, that which allows reality to be faced and light to be found even if the whole picture is currently hidden. My role model is Pollyanna, I highly recommend viewing the Walt Disney classic. Haley Mills portrays a young woman guided with a belief that one can find good in anything, it's a matter looking. Thank you Pollyanna, you continue to be my role model.
As I reflect upon our lives I acknowledge the pain of upheaval and that healthy stability is so nurturing. I consider the youth in Alameda who face many days with aching uncertainty, homeless women in Sacramento fleeing domestic violence, clients juggling with their dreams and fears. We are all part of a journey and my present discomfort allows me to appreciate the calm uneventful months of everyday living.