Excited To Be Excited!

I’m excited. And I felt it worthy of a blog post since I was getting long winded on my personal FB page. For the first time since Dad’s passing 7 months ago, I finally feel excitement for the future. Next month, my partner and I have some time off together. We have a Yurt booked for a few days, will be taking a trip back to the Farm, and I’ve booked a solo spa day that was gifted to me so generously by my amazing boss. Yay!

I’ve always tried to focus on and live in the present moment as much as possible. Since December, I haven’t really had a choice if I want to keep my head above the water. I certainly am not always successful – flash backs of the past were/are torture. Thinking about the future has felt daunting. Picturing a future without my Dad was and still is, in many ways, gutting. It has felt for many months, up until quite recently, that I was never going to get any respite from the dark hole I found myself in. It felt like my intense grief of losing Dad, this blanket that was weighing me down, was never going to let up. That I had to start accepting this as my new reality. Fuuuuuck.

So to keep my sanity, and find my way forward, I’ve had to stay really rooted in the here and now and remember that Dad would want me to take care of my heart but he’d also want me to LIVE – this keeps me moving forward every day. What do I need now? How am I feeling in this moment? These are some of the questions I ask myself. I will carry this grief and love in my soul for the rest of my days, but it’s different now. I don’t feel like the walking dead as often – yay, progress! I still very seldom make any plans much more than the day before or the same day, and how I spend my time is based on what I feel like doing and what is within my capacity. I’ve wrapped myself in a coccoon and only those things & people that nourish me are allowed in. This isn’t going to change.

For practical purposes, some things do need to be planned in advance. Like booking said Yurt. It feels so odd to me to say that it feels good to feel joy, to feel excited, when I look into the short term future. It feels like much longer than 7 months since I’ve felt that when looking to the future. Time is such a weird construct.

Like all of humanity, I have had more than my fair share of terrible things happen in my 37 years on this planet. My nervous system has taken a shit kicking in the last 2 years. It’s been a reverse shit sandwich – I got out of an abusive relationship, found my amazing partner and wonderful job, then my Dad died. It was like my life was finally coming together and I experienced (for the first time & consistently) a soul level of peace, profound love, and joy and then BOOM – the Universe had other fucking plans.

Thank the Universe that my partner is the phenomenal person he is; he’s been the light helping me find my way out of this dark place. Formerly hyper-independant Stephanie is no longer afraid to admit that I need help some times. Being able to say that thinking of our plans next month sparks joy; such a ‘small’ & perhaps overlooked human experience. To be able to feel – what a gift that is to be able to write this right now. To feel the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, being human is a wild ride. I say a gift because feeling numb is scary – I have been there – to feel something, even if it is despair reminds me that I am still alive. Nothingness feels like endedness. Excitement, joy – that’s medicine to my soul. So here’s to sparking joy and excitement in this now moment and when planning our future adventures.

Because all of these things make me happy. ❤️

Making Space For Multiple Truths

I started to share this on my personal Facebook page, but since I am getting long winded, I thought it would be better suited to make a blog post.

There is so much grief in the world aside from my own. Many folks I spoken to recently have lost a loved one, know someone who is not well, or having an overall shit time. My heart aches for us all. In the darkness, I wanted to take some time to express my gratitude and acknowledge some good things. I also want to normalize that there is space for more than one truth. That we can experience what feels like contradictory emotions. That we can feel utterly devastated and still find some light in our days (when we’re ready). When grieving, this has to come in our own time. When grief hits, and it’s very raw, it’s not the time to try and find the goodness. It’s really important to be present with ourselves in the very real emotions we are feeling. This is no time for toxic positivity.

I struggle every day with utter exhaustion, anxiety, brain fog, confusion, inability to focus and recall things, sensitivity to loud sounds/environments; my physical body is processing my dad’s death in a very real and tangible way. My body and mind are doing weird things. This feels very foreign and uncomfortable to me. It’s only been 4 months; it feels like it happened yesterday, yet I am so tired it feels like I’ve been carrying all of this for lifetimes. I want it all to stop, AND I am doing my best in this now moment to take care of myself and accept that this is part of my process. I get out of bed every day and go to work. I make time for self-care. I’m damn proud of me for showing up for myself and my loved ones.
I’m so grateful for my partner and all that he is. I feel so incredibly loved, supported, seen and taken care of. AND I feel guilt from time to time for dragging my ass every day and being in bed most evenings, some times as early as 6:30 p.m. He quickly reminds me how proud of me he is and reminds me to just be. Some days, I am good at reminding myself of this too.
I was pissed off and grieved the loss of friendships of those that have forgotten about me AND I very much appreciate all the love & support that is given to me by others.
I have an immeasurable hole in my heart and soul that will never be filled, that makes me feel like I am walking between worlds AND I am so incredibly grateful for the beautiful bond and love my dad and I shared, and will continue to share.

I could go on, but if your brain is anything like mine, I can’t focus on much for very long periods, so I will get to the point. My hope is that when you read this, whatever you’re experiencing, that my words remind you that life is never black and white, all or nothing, that there is always space for more than one truth. And that one truth doesn’t negate the other. One truth is not more important than the other. It’s all valid. That life is more about this AND that, instead of this OR that. That it’s totally “normal” to feel what seems like contradictory emotions. You are allowed to be pissed off and grateful, sad and joyful, and empty and fulfilled. And all of these at the same time. I have a beautiful life outside of losing my dad, AND I’m having a really hard time. And if all we do today is breathe, let that be enough.

Here But Not

February 3rd would have been Dad’s 73rd birthday. It also marked 2 months since he died. I have never been on this kind of grief journey before – thank the Universe for that – and it’s a motherfucker. I am learning so much. About myself and others. About grief and life. All of which I’d give back to have my Dad here on this Earth. I’m not sure where I’m going with this post but I felt called to get some words down about this.

Like all things in life, there is no rule book and as much as you try to prepare for said thing, you never know how you’ll feel or how to handle it until you’re in the thick of it. I always knew in my heart of hearts that when Dad passed, it would be THE hardest time of my life. There is no question – in all the awful things that have transpired in my life, this is by far the most devastating. More so, because there was no warning, and I thought I had a couple more decades of loving him and making memories. For my sanity, I have let go of trying to answer, “Why?!” This will never make sense to me. I’m no longer convinced that if I had that answer that I’d feel the slighest bit less grief stricken.

One thing through all of this so far that has been really standing out to me is support. Who’s been here for me. Who hasn’t. And the lack of knowingness and education on how to support people who have suffered great loss or going through a really difficult life challenge. I am blessed with a handful of people who consistently show up. These are my people and I am so incredibly grateful for them. My partner, in particular, has been a beacon of light and a master at holding space, as he always is. Because truly that is all a grieving person needs – is the space to feel what they are feeling. To be hugged when we need it. To know that we can show up exactly as we are in our hysterical mess. And that we are going to be loved anyways.

There’s nothing anyone can say, aside from telling me that they can bring Dad’s physical body back from the dead, that will make me feel better. And that’s ok. Because I don’t need to feel better. I don’t need to find the silver living or the lesson or the joy or whatever other invalidating and toxic thing I have told myself in past situations. I need to feel. Period. We need to feel what we’re feeling and stop rushing to get to this bullshit end goal of being “healed.” Some things are just so awful and traumatic, that we won’t get “over it” and be healed from said situation, we will simply find a way to live with it.

That’s what I am doing. Living with this. Trying not to drown in my sadness of Dad’s death. I don’t want his death to overshadow the beautiful 36 years of memories I had with him. But fuck. I pray to the Universe to never find myself in this space again.

I’ve been unpleasantly surprised by people who I thought would check in, haven’t. Truthfully, hard times reveal who your people are. Hard times reveal the authentic relationships. Not just the ones that are superficially based on convenience or only when it’s “easy.” There’s space for more than one truth. I can empathize that people have their own lives, are busy etc. etc. But I can also be hurt by the lack of reciprocity and feeling forgotten about. It’s shitty on top of feeling like a shell of a human. I processed that. And now have more clarity on who to continue to pour into and who not to.

If we’re unsure on how to support someone, or fearful of saying the wrong thing, it’s okay to ask, “How can I support you?” It’s better than doing nothing, projecting what you think they need (and may be unhelpful) or saying something void of thought and emotion like, “He’s in a better place now.” Grief, like many things in life, is a lone process. The hard work is done in our minds, hearts and bodies. No one can do the work for us. Knowing there are people in my corner, taking 10 seconds out of their day to send me a message that they’re thinking of me and sending their love has been medicine. Simple gestures make the world of a difference. If you’re too busy to do that for your friends and loved ones then, in my opinion, a shift in priorities is needed, you’ve overscheduled yourself, and you’ve lost sight of what is truly important.

Dad’s passing was a devastating reminder than anyone of us could die at any given moment. That even when we think we will be here the next day, there is the chance we may not be. That the carpet can be pulled out from under us in a moment’s notice. I realize that is rather cliche, as it’s often said we’re reminded of our mortality when someone dies. But I feel this in my bones. I visited him 6 weeks prior to him getting really sick and subsequently passing 2 weeks after I arrived; we had wonderful conversations, picked apples together, had a delicious dinner, he was puttering around the property. I had no idea that that would have been the last visit I’d have with him, before I’d take on the role of his full-time care giver.

So as cliche as it is, hold your loved ones tight, say I love you every day – multiple times a day, love with all of your heart and soul, treat people like it’s the last time you may see or talk to them because it very well may be. So much shit in this life does. not. matter. How we loved one another, made eachother feel and the memories we made are the only things we’ll have left when it’s time to say good-bye to this life. There’s nothing more important than this.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for being here and witnessing my journey. It’s complex and I’m long-winded. I’m here but not. Awake, but dreaming. If you’ve suffered a great loss and are deep in the grief process like I am, I won’t say it’s going to get better. It gets different. It feels like he passed minutes ago, but SO long ago. Time has somehow become irrelevant. It’s the worst rollercoaster I have been on. And unfortunately, one I will be on for the rest of my life. To you who’s suffering: I see you. I understand you. I am sending you so much love from my broken heart. Here’s not to moving on, but to moving forward. One moment, one breath at a time.

Big love, S.

A love letter to an over-giver…

By Tahlia Hunter

I came across these words last night & felt called to share them with all of you. This hit a core memory of a not too distant version of myself. For all my fellow big-hearted folks out there, this is for you. ❤️

📸 cred: my friend John M

“There is more to you
Than what you are capable of giving others
And providing for them

There is more to you
Than what you are willing to sacrifice for others
And give up in your own life in order to make them happy

And there is more to you
Than what you do for others and the world.

You are not everyone’s healer
You are not everyone’s parent or guardian
You are not everyone’s saviour
And giving is not your only purpose in life.

Sometimes when we feel unloved by others around us
We settle for being needed

We overextend ourselves
And overgive
So that in return
They will like us

And we attempt to please them
At the expense of pleasing ourselves

Failing to realise
That by people-pleasing
We are attempting to manipulate others into liking us
And when we continually say “yes” when we secretly mean “no”
We can be left feeling resentful
While when we are authentic
And kindly let others know through active communication what our true beliefs, desires and intentions are
And are honest and upfront about our boundaries
This is much better for both them and ourselves
In the long-term.

When it comes to others
Making large demands and requests of you
Always remember
That just as you are capable
Others are capable.

Others are capable of taking action in their own lives
Others are capable of deciding for themselves what is best for them
And others are capable of relying on themselves or seeking help from someone else rather than you.

And so you may give them the space and freedom
To be able to effectively show up for themselves
And allow them to empower themselves

And instead, choose to give
From a place of love and kindness
When you feel you want to
And donate your time, possessions and energy to others
From a place of abundance and generosity
Rather than simply out of obligation

As others are not entitled to your help
Others are not entitled to your energy or resources
And others are not entitled to your time and attention

And just as we set boundaries with others
We must also set them with ourselves
And ensure that we are respecting our own time and energy
Just as much as the time and energy of others.

Get my free eBooks and others at this link: https://www.tahliahunter.com/online-store “