Who teaches us about the losses we’re going to experience in life; how to face them, what it means to keep moving forward? Who enters adulthood feeling truly equipped to survive the painful losses that inevitably come?
Grief isn’t just losing a loved one or a relationship ending. It’s so much more. When people say it comes in waves, boy is that true. Tidal waves. You can be going about your business and BAM, it hits like a tsunami. There is no neat plan for climbing out of the wreckage. You just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Things are supposed to end. But nothing prepares us for how desolate the end feels.
Loss comes in all shapes and sizes. It can include family, loved ones, children, jobs, friends, moving house, pets, divorce, finances, leaving school, health issues, retirement, death and so on.
When relationships end, we all hear the classic “There are plenty more fish in the sea” or “We never really liked him/her anyway.” Ouch! That’s the last thing you want to hear. You may be aware that this relationship kept you small and left you feeling unhappy but still, you may have been living together. You may have shared children, family, friends. So much history, and a part of your identity is tied up in this ending. Maybe an imagined future too. Gosh! This requires some gentleness and patience. So much to unravel. This is a real process. It’s like a death, a death of a version of you that no longer exists. Allow yourself the space to grieve and mourn your loss, and this will pave the way for new possibilities.
Some people have parents that die and they say “I didn’t get along with my parents, so I’ve got nothing to be sad for” or “I didn’t speak to them for years anyway,” as though it doesn’t matter. Make space too for the part of you that longed for better parents, the part of you that may even miss them, even though you feel angry toward them. Turning away from the pain doesn’t get rid of it. It just pushes it beneath the surface, where it continuously swirls around, wreaking havoc with your dreams and your peace of mind.
The same is true of your personal health. When bodies tire and old age creeps in, minds and bodies start to deteriorate. This too is a loss. A loss of youth. A loss of identity. A loss of independence. A loss of an imagined future that may no longer exist. So much can change, and with each change comes loss.
Loss even shows up in the choices we make. This is often why big life decisions feel so hard: with each decision, there is another path unchosen. This is challenging and scary. There’s a possibility you may have regrets. But still, a choice is required of you. Not choosing is still a choice. You may want to share this with someone else — it can be heavy to carry on your own.
You may hear people say “I can’t wait to retire. It’s going to be great to have so much free time.” And yet, BAM, here comes that tidal wave again. How do you hold space for and find compassion toward this new identity? The change that comes from no longer going to your place of work, especially if you loved your work. What if it gave you meaning in life? Where will you start to find new meaning?
Each new chapter requires something different: something where we slow down and ask ourselves: how can I honour this loss, or this huge change in my life, so that when I feel ready, new life can emerge through me?
