Tag: grief

Heart-Made Decisions

Posted on by mfregien6c146e4539

Yesterday, I sat down in my therapist’s office…on the edge of the couch…leaning forward. I was in full-on fight or flight mode…either ready to rumble or head for the hills. She asked me what was up and I said “I just want to fast-forward past the holidays and land in mid-January”…and I started rambling about every relationship/situation/holiday stressor my head had been trying to figure out. I didn’t get very far in my ramble before she stopped me…told me to shake my whole body out…find my space with my head above my heart…breathe…and listen…not to my head…but to my heart. Once I was able to do that…and it did take awhile…my heart told me quite clearly what to do. I don’t know about you…but the feeling that I get when I make a decision that is right with my heart is incomparable…it is complete peace.

But why is it is hard? It’s because my brain gets in the way and tangles everything up…every single time. My brain is always looking to the outside…seeing everyone else in the scenario…trying and trying and trying…to find perfect solutions…to make sure everyone else gets what they need…that nobody else’s feelings are hurt. My brain puts everyone’s feelings on my shoulders…makes them my responsibility. I become paralyzed with anxiety…unable to make any decision…fight or flight kicks in.

My heart helps me separate the “me problems” from the “them problems”. It helps me realize that sometimes there is not a perfect solution to a situation, but there is always a right solution. And as long as I am doing what feels right in my heart, any hurt feelings other people have is a “them problem”…because my heart isn’t going to let me ruthlessly hurt people that I care about…not if I’m really listening to it.

Now the trick is to be able to make heart-made decisions at home by myself and not just on my therapist’s couch!

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Imagine…

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Alice

Let me tell you a story. Listen.

Once upon a time.  There was a fish.  Her name is really unimportant to the story, but let’s call her Alice.  She lived in the ocean with her husband and their children.  As you might imagine, the ocean was a very beautiful place to live.  Filled with the bluest of blues…the greenest of greens.  There were forests to explore made of coral and kelp.  Alice loved the life they built in the ocean.  She felt safe…happy…content.  They had many friends and family close by, but most importantly, they had each other.  She felt blessed to have such a good life with her husband by her side.

But that doesn’t make a good story. Does it?

Then, one day tragedy struck and Alice’s husband was killed in the prime of his life.  Alice was heartbroken.  Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe anymore.  Her gills were making the same motions they usually did, but she was gasping and choking.  In a frantic effort to get air into her lungs she swam for the surface and soon found herself flapping, helplessly, on the beach of an island.  Where once she had gills on the sides of her neck, her fins now met smooth scales.  She gulped air into her mouth to fill her lungs.  It worked to keep her alive, but felt strange and foreign.  She had to think about each breath filling and releasing in her lungs.  What once had been effortless, now took every part of her concentration.

Thinking about every breath.  Can you imagine?

She slipped back into the water and swam back to her ocean home.  Her friends and family gathered around her, but it was different now.  She was different.  Alice looked around at them and saw their gills…working effortlessly.  Their lives were still whole with their spouses beside them.  They tried to be supportive of her…gave her advice on how to navigate this new gill-less, love-less existence she had thrust upon her…but it was impossible to give good advice about a circumstance they had never experienced themselves.  Alice could now only stay in the ocean for short periods of time.  She had to return to the island.  Just to breathe.

She couldn’t breathe in her home.  Can you imagine?

At first, she returned to the ocean often.  She tried to fit in as best as she could in her old life with her family and friends.  Returned to work.  Went out to dinner. But grief for her husband compounded with her lack of gills meant that Alice could never truly fit in.  She was not the same as she once was and being around her friends and family was often painful for her. Where the ocean had once been her home, now it was just somewhere she could visit every once in awhile.

She doesn’t fit in anywhere in her old life.  Can you imagine?

Alice returned to the shore of the island and spent days…weeks…months…years…staring into the water.  She spent her time lost in the memory of what home felt like.  Of swimming in the beautiful ocean.  Of remembered love from her husband.  Of feeling complete…happy…at peace.  She wondered what she had done to deserve to have that ripped away from her?  Was she not deserving of love like that?

She felt incredibly alone and unworthy of love.  Can you imagine?

Every now and again family and friends would swim to the surface to see her.  They would visit for a time.  Alice would pretend that her life on the island was fine-all the while acutely aware of the gills her family and friends still had…and that they would soon return to their lives in the ocean.  Where their home still was..and hers would never…could never be again.  And her loneliness grew.

Such unrelieved loneliness, even among people.  Can you imagine?

As time went by, Alice realized that other parts of her body were transforming…just like her lungs had.  Her fins were becoming arms.  Her tail was elongating into legs. These transformations were excruciatingly painful…as the very cells of her body rebuilt themselves. While these adaptations didn’t ease the grief she felt for the loss of her husband and her old life and home, they did help her adapt to life on the island.  She no longer had to lay…helpless…on the beach.

Everything about herself had to change, just so she could live.  Can you imagine?

Alice rose from the sand and practiced walking on her wobbly, newborn legs.  At first she was afraid to stray too far from the ocean.  She stayed in the sand on the shore so she could at least feel the moisture in the sand…remnants of home.  In time, the sun enticed her to raise her eyes and gaze around her..and she finally saw the beauty and the potential for life in this new place.  While it didn’t have the same beauty of the ocean, it did have gorgeous trees…moss-covered boulders…fields of wildflowers…a rushing waterfall…and in the distance, a snow-capped mountain.  And as she gazed around her, she felt something that she hadn’t felt in a very long time…hope.

She had existed without hope for so long.  Can you imagine?

And as Alice finally stood on her own two legs.  Her feet firmly planted.  She put her hand on her heart and felt grief and love entertwined…beating…beating…beating. And she knew she had a choice to make.  She could either stay on the sand by the ocean…or she could set off on a journey into the trees…clamber among the moss-covered boulders…trek through the fields of wildflowers…follow the rushing waterfall…and climb that snow-capped mountain.  And so with adventure in her spirit, love and grief inside her, and a new-found yearning to live as her guide…she took the first step.

Can you imagine?


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Thanksgiving 2024

Posted on by mfregien6c146e4539

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for a lot of things…but mostly just that I am alive. That might seem like a weird and perhaps selfish thing to say…but for me…it’s a big deal…because I haven’t felt thankful for that in quite some time. In fact, I’ve more often wondered what it would be like to be dead. How easy it would be to just keep driving North on my way home from work…stop at some unknown woods somewhere and just get lost…let nature take it’s course…be food for the creatures of the woods…the woods itself…at least then I would be good for something. Or slip away under the water somewhere…it seems kind of peaceful under there. And while these were just passing thoughts in my head…as time went on they were definitely there more often. Three wonderful humans were really the only things keeping my feet planted…my head from wandering too far.

And then last May I had dinner with a friend who I only see every few months or so. And she saw past all my “I’m fine’s” and “I’m doing all right’s” and handed me a phone number. She had already checked to make sure they were taking new patients and she told me to call them….because I was not all right. I was not fine. I needed help. And that’s how I met my therapist, Tara, who continues to help me work through the dark times…who has shown me time and time again that she will not cringe away from my truths…who has earned my trust week after week. I would like to say that she saved my life….but more accurately…she helped me save myself.

I know that mental health is a really “cringey” topic in our society…and maybe this post is a little more…I don’t know…sobering…than you were looking for on a holiday. I also think it is really important to bring up ESPECIALLY on a holiday…because these are the days when mental health struggles get even harder for a lot of people. Please check up on the people that are in your life…especially over the holidays…especially if they’ve been quiet.

So today, I am thankful for being alive. I am thankful for the three wonderful humans…perfect mixes of Jason and I…that I am blessed to spend my life with. I am thankful for those in my life who reach out…who notice when I’ve gone quiet. I am thankful for every new day that I watch the sunrise and I am filled with possibility instead of dread. I will never take those things for granted.

My all-time favorite Thanksgiving picture

War Against the SHOULDS

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One of my first therapy appointments…a whole six months ago now…we talked about SHOULDS. I remember walking into her office. Feeling overwhelmed. Like the whole weight of the world was on my shoulders. It wasn’t an unusual day. This was pretty much just “life” for me at that point. And I started talking about how overwhelmed I was and she dragged out her whiteboard and started writing down all the SHOULDS coming out of my mouth. And it was a lot–probably close to 50. Things I thought I SHOULD do. Things friends or family told me I SHOULD do. Things society told me I SHOULD do. We started going through that list and changed the really essential things to MUST do…and narrowed my To-Do list down to like 5.

The truth is that SHOULDS are rarely useful. They are usually some sort of action being prescribed upon your life by someone/something that is deluded enough to imagine they know your life better than you. And that probably sounds harsh…but in my experience it is very true. SHOULDS usually come right before unsolicited advice….which is annoying at the very least…and often infuriating. I try so hard to not say SHOULD to other people…and it is really hard sometimes!

So since that day I have tried to be very careful about the SHOULDS because I’ve noticed that usually when I start feeling overwhelmed it’s because my SHOULDS are building up. This time of year especially I need to give myself a SHOULDS check. I SHOULD pick my leaves up off my yard….but I don’t…nature can take care of herself just fine. I SHOULD buy my kids Christmas gifts, but it stresses me out coming up with ideas and they like picking out their own things…so I give them a dollar amount and let them spend it as they wish. I SHOULD decorate for Christmas, but nobody in my house cares if we have a tree up so I’m not going to deal with it. Crossing SHOULDS off my list is freeing and it gives me more energy and headspace to deal with the MUSTS.

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The Onion

Posted on by mfregien6c146e4539

The ups and downs suck. Two weekends ago I was alone in a cabin in the woods feeling wonderful…discovering things about myself…at peace and happy. I came home and went to my weekly therapy session and I was on cloud nine. Life was feeling hopeful. And since then…well…ha…sat down with my therapist this past week and raged and cried. She assured me it was normal…lots of layers to healing…and part of healing is uncovering hurts and angers that maybe I didn’t have the strength or capacity to deal with when they happened…and now that I’m healing they are resurfacing. I told her “Great. I’m an onion. I even make myself cry”.

So today, I’m just going to embrace my onion-ness. Stay away from people so I don’t make anyone else cry.

Moss and Birches

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Do you ever think about moss? I hadn’t either really until my solo cabin trip a couple weeks ago…and then I fell in love with it. Just think for a second how amazing moss is. It can grow literally anywhere…even on solid rock. It is green, beautiful, soft…nature’s blanket. It can be really slippery if you need to step on it…so it forces you to slow down…focus…breathe deeper…let Nature in. In my mind, moss is peaceful and serene…untouched…it’s often the only remaining green in the fall once the leaves are on the ground from the trees.

Speaking of trees…do you have a favorite tree? Either an individual tree…one that you have good memories of…or a type of tree. For me, it is birch trees. The white of their bark evokes both peace and sadness. The way their bark peels off gives them a complexity that is fascinating. They are a resilient tree when the wind blows…swaying impossibly far in each direction. They seem like warriors to me.

The Birches

Listening to the breeze
	In the trees
Straining to hear the whispers
	Of the earth

Birches stand tall and proud
	In their nakedness
Unashamed of who they are
	Without their leaves

Nature prepares herself for
	Certain death
Trusting in the hope of Spring
	To resurrect her

And the birches whisper
	Strip away your frivolity
Stand proud with us
	Spring will come again
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The Power of the Morning

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What is it about mornings? I had forgotten how much I love them. How they have always been MY time. When the kids were young, the early AM’s were about the only time I could focus on myself. I would get up early and head out the door for a morning run…or to the gym…be back before anyone even woke up. I would grumble about it a bit…but secretly I loved that time…before the rest of the world was awake. It felt stolen and magical. Then somewhere along the line…probably when the kids started getting more independent…I just stopped getting up early. Started calculating every last minute I could stay in my bed before I had to get up and go to work.

And then…I started making self-love coffee and writing my pages every morning. Suddenly I have a morning routine in place that I love. Writing my stream-of-consciousness pages primes my brain for more creative writing. I rediscover the magic of the early mornings. That combined with the long, dark evenings…where I struggle to get any routine in place that feels good…and soon I am getting up at 4:30am and more than ready to go to bed at 8:30pm.

And you might ask…why do you need to get up early to have time alone? Or for that matter go to a cabin for 4 days alone? Aren’t you alone all the time anyway? Yes…and no. There is a power and a peace in the alone that I choose. The alone when I am really alone. The times when I choose my alone I am able to bring my focus to myself and what I need…without judgment. Other times I am often alone…but amongst people…and that alone can feel lonely…as I watch other people interact with each other…especially couples. The alone of the evening…or the weekend…feels like a forced alone. I am alone because the person who should be by my side is not…and that alone just hurts. So the mornings are when I take my power back.

The Waterfall

The smell of coffee
	Rouses me from slumber
Pulls me from my bed
	Like a fish
On the end of a line
	Helpless to the lure

The house is dark and quiet
	Kids safe in bed
Dogs barely raise their heads
	Coffee in hand
First sips working their magic
	Settle at my desk

Quilt wrapped around me
	Warding off the chill
Pen in hand-red today
	I open my notebook
And let my thoughts spill-
	Waterfall across the page

Released out of the dam of my brain
	I am alone
Just me and my waterfall-
	Words scream out 
Sound absorbed by the rage of the water
	That keeps my secrets

Clarity appears like a rainbow
	Above the spray of the falls
My mind finds peace and stillness
	As the house wakes up
Starts exhaling warm air
	And I am ready

Cleaning the Closet

Posted on by mfregien6c146e4539

I need to clean my closet today. I am sitting at my desk…staring into the open door and dreading it with every fiber of my being. But it’s out of control…the whole floor covered. I can barely reach my clothes. One day I’m going to reach for a shirt…lose my balance…and fall into the abyss of “shit I didn’t know what to do with so I stuffed it in my closet”. And I know a lot of it just needs to go into the trash. Why do we keep the things that we keep? Hold on to the “stuff”…as if it is holding on to a life…a time past…

Some of it is Jason’s. Tennis trophies that I really should’ve thrown away after I used them on the tables at his funeral luncheon…but instead three boxes of them went into my closet. His dress clothes. Boxes of childhood memorabilia that his parents recently gave me. His tennis bag…untouched since he last used it. Same with his work backpack. All of that stuff isn’t him. His legacy isn’t in the suit he wore to his brother’s wedding or his letter jacket or even his tennis racquet. His legacy is in his kids and the countless other lives he touched…by sharing his passion for tennis…by being a scout leader…by helping coach baseball…by always being a compassionate voice to ANY human being…by being a son…a brother…an uncle…a husband. It was never about the stuff. That being said. I’m keeping his tennis racquet…ha!

Equally, it’s my stuff though. Medals and bibs from back in my running days. Knitting projects that I am never going to finish. Clothes I am not going to wear again…same with shoes. Bags and purses….how do women accumulate so many? Things that used to bring me joy…but now are reminders of painful times or relationships…stuffed in my closet…out of sight. I need to do some Marie Kondo (is that right?)…only keep the things that bring me joy. And think about what my legacy is. And what is legacy anyway? Such a big, important-sounding word. All things to think about…while cleaning a closet…because I get philosophical about everything…but I kind of like that about myself…that I’m a deep thinker. And now I’m procrastinating…about walking through that door…but walking through a door is never just walking through a door is it?

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Nature’s Truth

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I spent this past weekend on a solo glamping adventure. My heart was telling me I needed to get out in Nature…not just for a hike for an hour…but to immerse myself for awhile. So I rented a Postcard Cabin up North. Think of a campground loop, but instead of empty pads for a camper or tent each spot has a tiny cabin.

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In this picture I’m standing in the doorway to the bathroom (toilet and shower). The kitchen area is to the right (stove, small fridge, sink) and the the door to outside is on my left.

The whole place has a “nature retreat” vibe. It isn’t noisy like your traditional campground. There aren’t a lot of kids running around. It’s peaceful. There’s a short nature trail on site that leads to this beautiful spot.

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It is also very close to Banning State Park. If you haven’t been to Banning, I highly recommend it. So beautiful. The day that I was there was cold and a little bit drizzly. I felt like I had the whole place to myself. The landscape is made up of huge rocks…lots of them covered by moss…and of course leaves fallen from the trees. Exploring this park solo was a bit of a test of my grit…because it was not without danger. The rocks were slippery…the trail was uncertain…I was by myself. But I was there to experience Nature…to really get out into it. I refused to allow myself to let where I was at be “good enough”. So I clambered and climbed…and slid down a few spots on my ass, just because that felt safer. At one point I could hear Jason’s voice in my head saying “Oh Babe…be careful. What are you doing?” and I muttered out loud “Shut up and help me figure out where to put my foot” and I swear I felt him tug on the back of my overalls.

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And in-between the life-threatening bits…when I was just walking in the woods…I reflected. First of all, if you have never taken a completely solo hike in the woods I highly recommend it. I’ve walked in the woods before, but I’ve always had either another person with me, or the dogs, or both…and that’s awesome, but this…this was life-altering for me. There were several times when the world just “clicked” into place for me. When I slowed down, or even stopped and just really looked around me. There weren’t questions that needed answering anymore because questions just ceased to exist. There was only Truth.

And so for the three days that I was gone. I hiked…alone…but never felt lonely. I took the days at my pace. Waking up early…lying in bed in the darkness with the stars out the window right next to me. Making a cup of tea and walking down by the river. Reflecting…and writing…always writing. At the bench by the river. At a rock by the waterfall. Under a pine tree. By the fire. In my cabin. And it was perfect.

Now I’m back in the real world, but I feel like I’m holding a bit of the Truth inside me…nurturing it…and when I need to be reminded…to be refilled because the world has beaten me down…I know where to go.

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Blechy Tuesday

Posted on by mfregien6c146e4539

Self-love is not coming easy to me today. I woke up at 2am with a stomach bug. Tried to convince myself I was fine this morning…walked into work…and then walked back out 5 minutes later when my coworkers shooed me home. It’s a good thing that I don’t get sick very often because I don’t do it well…especially now. I get sad…I get depressed. I start to feel very lonely and sorry for myself.

I came home and crawled back into bed. The dogs were more than happy to cuddle back up with me…especially since it was raining outside. I gave myself a talking to about “self-love” and taking care of myself when I’m not feeling well. Made sure I had some water to sip on. Dozed on and off. Finished the last chapter of a book I had been reading.

Not too much later Baby Girl got out of bed. When I told her I wasn’t feeling well do you know what the first thing she said to me was? “Would you like me to run to Caribou and get you some coffee since you don’t feel good?” And me, the emotional being that I am, got all teary. At first I said “no” because I wasn’t sure how my stomach was feeling about coffee…but then I changed my mind because I knew she really wanted to do something to make me feel better…and it’s COFFEE…I’m no fool.

I spent the day going back and forth from my bed to my desk. I am completely enamored with my desk these days. Everything in my desk space is very deliberately placed…plants…colorful pens…journals…books…coaster for my tea or coffee…Jason’s quilt to wrap up in. It’s my “no bullshit” space. When I sit at my desk I commit myself to the truth. To putting away whatever mask I may’ve felt like I had to wear that day.

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My desk is my space for true self-expression. Every morning, I wake up…feed the dogs…pour myself a cup of self-love coffee…and sit at my desk…and write. 3 pages…every morning…no cheating. Whatever is on my mind or in my heart…or as what happens a lot…things I didn’t even know were on my mind or in my heart until the pen touched the paper. Even if you’re not a “writer” per say I would encourage you to try it…just once. Sit and write until you fill up three pages. When I first started doing this my pages would be filled up with “I don’t know what to write next”….”My hand is cramping”….”Am I done yet”. Now, most mornings, three pages fly by…and my days feel a lot more focused.

I started doing this after my therapist mentioned “The Artist’s Way” to me in one of our sessions. Me…being me…someone mentions a book to me I’m gonna go buy it that same day. I’m so glad that I did. I went from not wanting to get out of bed in the mornings and feeling scattered throughout my day–to looking forward to getting out of bed…with my self-love coffee…and feeling more focused and centered. I will say that if you decide to try it I highly recommend buying some fun pens that are easy to write with…it helps!