Mystic Cookie

With the holiday season upon us, the tug of the familiar has returned once again. The tug is always present this time of year, given that we all want so badly to feel holiday spirit and the magic of the season.  Expectations are high, leaving much room for missing the mark. As something that we continuously seek out, holiday spirit can in some instances evoke a beautiful sense of nostalgia, in others it may stir a difficult memory that can be associated with this time of year. Either way, it is a tangible event that can leave one feeling conflicted during what should be a joyous time.

For me, the tug can be felt in a moment upon hearing a familiar tune from childhood.  Instantly, I am that little girl that played records and danced around the living room. No matter that I am nearly 50! I recall that little girl and the utter joy of moving to beautiful music, what an endearing memory. I grew up in an incredibly musical home and music was an important part of any gathering and celebration.  During the holidays, mom cantered at church and dad often accompanied with his guitar.  The house was decorated with lights, multiple Christmas trees and the smell of hot apple cider wafted in the air. To this day, my parents often turn on big band music and have their own dance party in the living room…sigh… I know, so romantic. My dad always waited until the last minute to get mom’s present, but he went to great lengths to bring it home beautifully wrapped from the department store. Theirs is indeed a deep love story.

“The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.”

Anais Nin

All of these memories tug at me even more so this time of year. I find myself wanting to listen to classical music, especially The Nutcracker. I performed so many roles in the ballet it is permanently imbedded in my memory. I have a need to connect with my parents and my siblings. I recall the blue suede clogs that my sister and I wanted so badly, in fact we cheated and peeked under the tree, slowly peeling one of the corners of the present open.  It ruined the anticipation, but we learned we did in fact both get a pair of clogs. We were partners in crime in that moment and the desire to be partners in crime with my sister is ever present. Thank goodness she is visiting me this year for the holiday.

Stress is caused by being here and wanting to be there.

– Eckhart Tolle

For those that recall unhappy moments, memories can leave a cloud over otherwise joyful festivities. It is difficult to separate the present from the past and the associated emotions of both. In situation such as these, those memories will never go away completely. The way forward seems to be to make new memories that will slowly reside in the forefront, numbing the pain from the more painful.

Life experiences are cumulative and it is only in totality that we weave a story of our life.  By choosing to embrace both the sadness and joy of this narrative, the true breath of holiday spirit can be felt. I look at my children smiling while talking animatedly with one another and in that instance all of the memories of their childhood comes full circle.  I cannot help but be at peace, knowing that both good and difficult times will surely be on the horizon, but we will be fine…I will be fine. That is what the familiar does for me. It reminds me that we are all a part of a grander plan, interconnected in the most fascinating of ways. This holiday season, I will strive to appreciate how far I have come to be here, today, enjoying this very moment. Happy Holidays everyone.

My life has been a series of events that I liken to a Lifetime Original Movie. I am sure others feel the same way, but my life is uniquely mine and the experiences thus far have shaped me in ways I did not fully understand until reflecting back.  Of these moments, grief has been one of my most difficult teachers and one in which I have had to befriend many times over the years.  Grief for a loved one, for a life that I had thought I would have and for a love that was lost.  Grief stands alone from other emotions. It is heavy, incredibly intense and all encompassing, knocking a sufferer off his or her plane of stability and into a place that is devoid of all connection and joy. I liken this place to a black hole that squeezes out all viable life force and leaves a shell of a person in its wake.

My first experience with grief was the loss of my grandparents.  I recall the funerals, the thickness of the air, seeing my father and mother cry and the feeling as if the sun would never shine again. With time, I learned to accept that grandma and grandpa were no longer in this world. The sense of loss was unimaginable. I considered all of the times I had not listened as closely to grandma when she told stories from her youth. I regretted the many moments of disconnect after our family moved away and most of all I saw the space she had filled in my life become a void that was filled with only longing and regret. The only bright spot is that I have always believed my grandma to be one of my guardian angels and have felt her close by watching over me during many pivotal life moments.

“The darker the night, the brighter the stars,

The deeper the grief, the closer is God!”

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment

As an adult, I found the dark grip of grief followed me once again.  There was the Director of the Arts Council in North Carolina who died in a car accident coming to meet with me about a potential performance.  She had just been reunited with a daughter she had given up for adoption and life was wonderful. We had spoken a few days beforehand and in that one horrible instant she was gone.  It was hard to fathom that her bright light was gone from this world.  A few years later another ballet teacher, who I interacted with regularly, chose to take her own life.  She had just graduated from college, had two lovely children, a happy marriage and a gaggle of students who attended her ballet classes. How did we all miss that she was so depressed?  My ex husband was torn up by her death as he was one of the last people to speak with her on the phone. It felt like a personal failure to not sense her despair.

More intimately, I have been blessed with two beautiful children, but have also felt the grief of losing two during pregnancy. Feeling a child within at one moment and then knowing that life is gone in the next is heartbreaking. Especially when having to deliver or miscarry a child that will never take a breathe. What is left is a lingering feeling that someone is missing, a traumatic event that can leave a woman absolutely broken. I will never forget the doctor telling me I had lost the child and then with little emotion explaining the birthing process I would have to go through.  With each contraction I felt as if my body was squeezing me to my very core leaving me completely spent and grief stricken. It was a painful process with nothing to show for it in the end.

“Only people who are capable of loving strongly can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.”

-Leo Tolstoy

Unbelievably, the most crushing grief I have ever experienced was the betrayal in my marriage.  This was even worse than the eventual end to the marriage. I am one that loves deeply.  It is a soulful love that embodies my entire being. When my partner’s betrayal became public, every way in which I viewed the world and my life was taken from me.  No longer would I have a partner that I could grow old with and who had known me for the better part of my life. No longer could I ever trust as one does with a first love.  I was completely broken open. The grief was so profound that I stopped eating, could not sleep and lost all interest in life.  With two young children to care for, this was a frightening space to find myself. I came perilously close to not recovering and giving up on life completely.

Reflecting on all of these moments, I can say with complete confidence that the very personality trait I possess, that some see as a weakness, helped me move through grief and find light once again. I am lucky enough to hold a gentle strength that becomes a fierce bravery in the face of hardship.  This sensitivity is a gift and one that has helped me navigate more than my fair share of difficult life events. Yes, I have cried tears until I had no more and felt the intensity of grief in each of the above life moments.  I choose not to bury it inside as some do, I set it free and allowed it to have its way with me. In doing so, it lost some of its power over me.  Grief never really goes completely away, it merely becomes a scar that one wears, like a badge of courage and a shadow that revisits from time to time.

“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.”

-Jalaluddin Rumi

Feeling something completely is never a bad thing.  It is important to surrender to the emotion and allow oneself to move through the process. If this is not allowed, grief will rear its head in other ways; emotional eating, depression, anger, chronic pain, addiction, alienation or any number of other outlets. Be gentle with yourself and with others who may also be experiencing some form of grief.  There is no time limit on how long it takes to move through.  For some it may be a few months for others years, each person is different. All we can do is be there for one another as fragile as we all are.