Every story has implicit messages that tell what the author’s understanding of the world is but what they write may not be what someone else understands from it just as what one person says may not be what is heard by another. We ourselves apply our own view of life in our narratives in a way that holds meaning for us but for others the context may not be as clearly defined nor as easily recognized as we hope it will be. Feeling alone in a room full of people or facing our dragons without the comfort of the sidekicks that are depicted in grand accounts makes our trails seem dark and debris filled even when there are spots that the sunshine reaches. We are, after all, the only ones who can actually go through our encounters with our so very heavell lives and there are times when our hearts really hurt along the way. If this week, or any one of them for that matter, doesn’t find the term thankful as a heading for you to write some words under, that’s all right because it doesn’t mean you don’t or won’t. It’s just that you aren’t feeling that way at this time and that is understandable in your kind of life. The value of being grateful doesn’t always breathe within us especially when we feel stuck in the weeds and doubt our ability to defeat the fire-breathing dragons that reside in that place. In other words, it’s hard to be appreciative when we feel as if a thousand prickles are piercing us and preventing us from moving the plot. What, then, are some of the things that we can do in order to be supportive and helpful to others when our journeys are different? What do we ourselves want in our moments where there’s nothing that feels good about our grief? I tend to be wordy, a shocking insight into who I am, but that doesn’t really inspire belief in someone even if it is my intent to do so. I am also a problem solver or fixer type which is always easy to do as an observer of another’s darkness even when we do have knowledge to impart. After Ryan died, if someone had attempted to be long-winded or to advise me during that year or so after my loss, my eyes would shoot daggers at that individual with the desire to destroy him or her. That same reaction happened if anyone ignored my suffering as well. Yeah, I was in that much pain and the term angry was a polite representation of the war that was occurring on the inside of me. My “flipping out” was illuminating what was there even though my implicit message wasn’t necessarily being read that way. Change is very difficult, and I am now learning to look at how I help and support others as well as myself. It’s a work of art in process and yes, I have relapsed repeatedly because habits or ways of coping die long, messy deaths and no one is thankful for that rollercoaster ride while on it. Love, as well as beauty, lives in so many ways but the power or the magic of it often feels like it is missing from us even though it really isn’t. By our silently sitting with ourselves and others, we are able to communicate the strongest form of hope that we have to offer by accepting the place that we and others find ourselves on the inside whether we understand or not. Be kind with a single word, a hug, a texted emoji or a smile but also be loud because love lives in so many ways and not just in the flowers or in the moments where the sun shines brightly. That particular feeling can even be found in the comfort of a box of tissues that we need to wipe our tears that come from pain or our laughter that makes our stomachs hurt but we don’t read that as a sign of light either. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you as you get comfortable with your story and how love lives in so many ways within you. Love Always, Heavell
It feels good in the sun because when we are in the warmth of a spot like that, we can forget what distresses us for at least a moment but as soon as there’s a chance of storms, we yearn to be back in that light as if there’s something missing in us without it. Sometimes we aren’t even aware of what the cause of the emptiness is, but we feel it just the same and it can be triggered without that specific knowledge or the realization that it is happening. Even characters in narratives have a back-history and hidden longings that influence and give depth to their over-reacting or insufficient responses. Those developments don’t make sense to those personas or to the others in the tales and the absences that we breathe in feel just as nonsensical although we don’t have a writer who will reveal in the next chapter why we “flip out” or stay stuck in a place that we don’t want to be in or yell “Good Grief!” when we are surprised by a dragon that has appeared on our path again. Suffering feels like a negative emotion that takes the details of our moments and turns them into loud feelings that we don’t want to experience, leaving us peering through prickle bushes at the trails of others wishing we were a different person or at least somewhere else. So, when we yearn or ache, we are missing or feeling the loss of someone or something which is really an obscure but deeply felt part of grieving. While traveling your journey, how much invisible pain is blocking your view, making it seem as if you are lying in the weeds when you really just need to sit up to see around the bend? What if we believe that others are only in the sun, when they are actually lingering in a spot because they don’t want to feel their suffering either? If you think about how difficult it is to know what is on the inside of an individual, even our own selves, then it is possible in a different truth to recognize that grief can be found in anger, a smile and the weeds as well as fields of blooms. Nothing feels good about it, so we don’t yearn to understand all the ways that we actually experience the moments that we have in life. Of course, it’s easier to close the door on those kinds of messes or to hide what’s there but then that will never ever be the better story of us, nor does it allow us to love and keep ourselves safe in the dark. The strongest pain I feel screams in my loss of Ryan. It’s understandable and it’s viewable as a weight of the world part in my epic tale, but as I turn around, I can see lots of little, medium and other big moments where sorrow has been breathing within me although it came out in all sorts of “flipping out” ways that were probably meant to protect me from that suffering. I never realized that Ryan was grieving too, that hidden back-history, which resulted in his over-reacting and insufficient responses as the main character in his story and he didn’t either. If I had well, I can’t undo what has already been done but I can do it differently today which means moving the plot forward even though it has and will hurt so very much. What, then, is good grief? It’s a conversation on the inside about the losses we feel and the things that are missing along our rides that are not limited to the passing of people. It’s getting comfortable with breathing in sorrow as a part of our moments without specifying the terms in which we allow ourselves to feel those messy emotions. Good grief is going through our history knowing it is all right to not be all right and that our yearning is meant to help us move forward not to stay in what seems safe enough but will never actually be that. It takes time to reveal how life has affected you, but you are the author of your grand narrative and with each word and feeling you know about yourself, you move one step closer to being comfortable with you wherever you find yourself. In other words, without Ryan becoming an addict and losing his life to the damages from it, I don’t know if I would have ever learned as much about myself as I have. I am grateful to him and to the fire-breathing dragons along the journey. Yeah, I said it again even though it still sucks and maybe it doesn’t make sense right now for you, but good grief is the kind that hurts like hell but eventually there is the discovery of the warmth that lives in the darkness that is far stronger than any spot in the sunlight will ever be and perhaps that’s what magic is really all about. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you and remember to always be kind to yourself because you are a work of art in progress and it’s chaotic getting there. So, grab some tissues! Love Always, Heavell
“But there was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a man had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer” Viktor Frankl
Imagine if you only had a single post-it-note to write your epic tale on. What would you choose to put on that assessment? Would you have ample space for what you have to say, or would the area become limited by the black lines covering the terms that you decided really didn’t belong there? What would happen if you had a whole pad of those sticky papers to express yourself on? Or what if you were given only a specific amount of time to do it in? When authors create a story, they start by making a brief outline of the key events and a general concept of the complex characters that will live in the account. They then develop the different features, personalities and tasks by traversing both a physical and emotional realm while also having to maintain an authentic air about each which is a demanding process. Even when a narrative turns into a series, the dispositions of the personas remain original so that our genuine bonds endure as the segments evolve. So, with each note and the novels that come together from them, the characters get better at battling and slaying mystical creatures, while still feeling the same type of arc of emotions that can be found in our lives regardless of their improved skills or tools. It’s the chance of storms that brings the richness to those life-like personas but of course an occasional it feels good in the sun moment makes those darker periods worth the fight as well as the pain. In other words, it takes time to develop those grand narratives just as it does to defeat what appears to be invincible for personas as well as us and to know ourselves well enough to be able to write without having to cross out our words. Authentic means, then, developing along a journey that often will enfold us in the most unwelcoming ways but time, regardless of the duration, is an area where even a single detail of holding on is proof of our ability to commit despite the shape we may find ourselves in or the amount of dreaded “f” moments from the yesterdays. It feels good in the sun because that is the light on a trail where fame talks loudest to us, and we need that, but we become fixed, not able to go through, if we wish only to be in that emotional place rather than using the warmth of those feelings to catch our breath as we work to extinguish the dragons that live within us and around us. After all, the phrase ‘it feels good in the sun’ isn’t a destination but just another way to say to celebrate us, to see our beauty or to hold a bouquet of blooms for a while. The better story will always be where our complex magic shows up in a chance of storms or when we are hurting in our hearts as easily as it does in the moments where tools aren’t necessary. Oh hell, it feels good in the sun, it does but if it were the only part of our narratives, a single post-it-note would have more than enough room to assess who we are and that’s about the amount of effort a flat, life-less persona takes not the physical and emotional realm of the main characters in epic tales that we actually are. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
When it comes to magic, what qualities do you visualize someone must have in order to be defined by that word? Are those features rigid or are they flexible enough to allow flaws within them as well? How, then, do you feel about the fact that every single journey, in order to be authentic, has weeds and the chance of storms regardless of the number of sunny days and flowers along the way? After all, even fabricated superheroes in legendary stories have moments of vulnerability that lead to their making mistakes and feeling bad just like we as sometime warriors do and if they are still considered to be remarkable in their state, why not us in our shape as well. Maybe it’s because we know our histories, having lived our dreaded “f” moments, and that makes it far harder to remember ourselves as being anything other than those blemished parts. We can’t, however, move the plot towards who we want to be if we can’t turn around from what has already been which leaves us feeling like change is some sort of bloom just waiting to be plucked along the trails of others rather than what’s around the bend on our own. Perhaps, though, you are wondering what the word magic has to do with our being able to transform because obviously we can’t simply turn a page or wave a wand in order to find ourselves in a different position. If you think about all the things that can be defined by that term, whether made-up or not, it’s really just another way to describe celebratory feelings or the beauty of ourselves. Every single one of us needs that kind of fame within our hearts to keep us going especially when there is a chance of storms wherever we are. Love will always feel extraordinary on sunny days or as an observer peering through a bush at another path, but the authentic value and the commitment of it is actually found in the dark periods where we need to breathe in our strengths particularly when we are hurting so much in our hearts. I imagine that you have generously left ample space to perceive of and admire what’s wonderful about others, downplaying their flaws, while pushing even the smallest of details of your magic into the shadows in order to make room for your weeds although this is your epic tale and not theirs. That certainly takes effort, a commitment if you will, to do that but when facing any of your specific fire-breathing dragons on your journey, how will that get you beyond the pain and a step closer to being who you hope for? I feel you, though, because sometimes I just want to lay down in my sorrow in life as well. There is a certain amount of comfort in breathing in those rigid features, an authentic-ness of myself, but it’s not all that I am nor are you only found in the polarization of your chaos either. Even seemingly debris-free trails filled with light, and laughter have a chance of storms and if you are going to encounter challenges in your so very heavell life, then do so with the help of some beauty that only you possess and can define in the tool bag that you are going through with. I know that the grief dragon living wherever you are feels enormous in stature and that its loud voice tells you that it is invincible but everything, whether fabricated or not, has a weakness or Achilles heel and defeating it means finding a different truth about it and yourself. In other words, you hold both weeds as well as flowers and the better story of you, the magical one, is where you love yourself in the shape that holds a chance of storms and the ones that have already been a mess and not just when it’s a celebratory day. Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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