Wednesday, November 16, 2011
This week on a weekly conference call with one of my clients, a member admitted that following the death of her husband and subsequent upheaval of her life, that she finally felt like she was coming out into the sun again. That really resonated with me. I never understood what that saying meant before before 2010. In a year, I lost my mom, I lost my ovaries and fallopian tubes (and my definition of myself as a woman changed), I lost my client base, my boyfriend of 15 years and I came close to losing my life in a fall. Grief is a sticky wicket, and we grieve for loss, not just for death. 2010 made me question everything down to the core of who I am and what my life is. What am I doing here? There's a profoundness to the transition that completely knocked me sideway.
The internal processing that follows loss is the grey zone where I've been living for the past year or so. But that chapter is drawing to a close, and the process that allows one to cocoon also provides a path for one to come out of the shade and back into the sun. I feel the beckoning to return to my life, to take up my own boat, and row out into uncharted waters, which is both scary and exciting. I have the tools I need to be successful and I'm seeing possibilities again instead of doors.