Tuesday, January 13, 2015

New year, new hope

One of my favorite mediums wrote today about life changes and how they carry us along against our will, leaving us feeling hopeless, without any bearings. Yet, in the midst of that chaos is the kernel of an answer for the future, if we but take the time to look for it; if we can step back from the chaos and drama and just take stock, even if all we can see in front of us is the next minute, the next hour.
Her conviction was that by doing even that little bit we are signaling to the Universe that we are open to the answers that we need.
She likened the loss of our loved one -especially sudden unexpected loss - to being carried away by the rapids. That sure hit home with me. Waking up and finding John gone - irretrievably, forever, there-is-nothing-you-can-do-about-this gone - is the worst thing I have ever had to endure. My world changed the second I opened the door and saw and knew. There was no going back. The rapids had grabbed me and taken me and I was going down that river whether I wanted to or not. I was banged against rocks and pulled under and losing my breath only to come up for air and be pulled along again, further and further from the life I had known, being flung headlong and at an unbelievable rate to something I knew nothing about.
I screamed, I cried, I begged but I was powerless.
And now I have been flung onto the shore. The terrain is foreign but some of the local natives seem friendly. Slowly, I am setting up a new existence. In fact, I have been here so long now that I am starting to feel like I know my way around enough to be able to help the new arrivals.
Okay, enough metaphor.
In English:
My therapist has decided my task for this year is for me to find "community". I'm lonely. John and I were everything to each other. We were each other's best friend and family. We shared everything and we were together almost 24/7. People remarked about how we were able to do this and still remain such good friends. It was easy for us. We loved each other. We didn't see the problem.
But the down side now is that I am so alone. I never developed a bunch of friends. I have never been the kind of person who "joined" - not clubs, not social circles. It wasn't my nature and with John, I also didn't have the need.
Now I do. I love my furkids but when it comes to fascinating conversation, they lack in that department.
So, my task has been to go forth and make friends.
Okay, how? I no longer work and I belong to no groups (Facebook doesn't count).
I am also a big couch potato.
So, I put the request out to the Universe and asked John to help where he could.
Lo and behold, a tai chi group was started at the Church I attend. I have always wanted to try that. So I signed up for it. I have had two lessons so far and I love it.
That satisfied the anti-coach potato problem.
But that isn't community. For that I need to step out of my comfort zone and join a group with a focus, people I can interact with on a regular basis with a common goal.
So I made an appointment with the volunteer coordinator at Church. We looked at my interests and aptitudes and she made some suggestions. I am scheduled for my first meeting later this month.
And finally, my soul is calling me more and more into the metaphysical and spiritual. I am enjoying my intuition classes with my medium friend and I seem to have a real knack for this. I am scheduled to take the final Reiki certification class next month to be a Reiki Master Teacher. I have even made a connection to speak with someone about the possibility of doing Reiki at one of our local hospitals. And with Susanne's help, I am working on seeing what other kind of work I can do to help people move forward after the loss of a loved one - a kind of after death communication coach.
And I am finding my voice with my writing again.
Getting back to my metaphor - this new land isn't as strange as it was when I first arrived. I'm still not thrilled about being here and would go back if I could. But I am going to make the most of it as long as I am here. There is a reason I am here.

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