I often think about kneeling on the ground to pray. I don’t do it. But I have the feeling of it. It’s hard to be strong all the time. Knowing that nobody can help you. People who are strong, are strong endlessly. I have never met someone who was strong for a few days and then wasn’t. Have you? Once you are strong, you are strong forever. How does strength feel? It hurts like hell. (Click here to tweet!) I would go as far as to say, it feels like a blade. You have to walk with it, speak with it, live with it. The blade is situated inside your heart. But nobody can see it from the outside. You just look strong. You don’t complain. You don’t look hurt. You go along with life almost as if you are bladeless. On the outside it looks like strength. From the inside it feels like pain. Strong people hurt. Endlessly. Quietly. I know you are one of them. The strong person. With the blade in your heart. Talking to someone about the blade is not easy, is it? We think it is easier not to say anything about it. After all, you are getting by fine. Why speak of the blade? I am like you, I hide my blades. And yes. There is more than one. I hide my blades from everyone. I don’t want them to think I am not strong. But today I am telling you about them. So you can do the same thing. Tell someone about it. I bet they have a blade too. With vulnerability and blades, Christina P.S. Make the Life Reentry class yours. Purchase it here: https://lifereentry.com/life-reentry-on-demand/Read More
I wasn’t a writer before he died. But grief turned out to be the great word maker. A great obliterator. It shook me to get these words out. When grief found me inconsolable it gave me a pen and said write your way out, console yourself. Get yourself beyond the insanity. (Click to tweet!) But I didn’t write anything the first 4 years. I had a diary, and wrote some of these words there. But nowhere else. The words started to stuck up. And up and up. All of a sudden they started to spill out. The words taught me that there was no going back to who I was. Only who I could become. A mixed blessing, that grief is. Isn’t it? Grief imposes itself on our DNA. Did you know? The becoming after grief is unstoppable. It unlocks us from the old life and throws the new keys across the far away horizon. Where we have to search, adjust, write our way to them. We start the quest towards the keys we never wanted. All we seek to find is a way to break back into the old life. At first we think it is possible. So we ask and scream, and yell. But all we hear are the echoes of never again. I remember when I realized that what happened was permanent. You would think it was the first months or even years. But it was much later. There are things only time can show us. My daughters’ loss of their dad was so vast and so destiny binding that I only managed to see it’s havoc as time moved us forward. On our way to finding the new keys. I had to travel nearly 12 years into the future to see what never again meant. I saw birthdays, kindergarten, elementary, middle and high school graduations. I saw house moves. Health scares. Aging. And life happening for a long time before I felt the permanence of never. Never means eternity. You see now? Only words can capture what really happened. Without them, all of it would be lost on the way to the new horizon. The words kept track of all my nevers and made my new becoming a little more familiar. May your nevers be captured along the way to your new keys as well. With new keys and thousands of nevers, Christina P.S. My Life Reentry class yours forever. Register here: https://lifereentry.com/life-reentry-on-demand/Read More
I was having dinner with a good friend the other night and I was sharing a few more thoughts that I usually share and it hit me. It just literally hit me over the head. I had stopped sharing my personal thoughts and feelings with others. I was used to sharing the superficial self. After the dinner I was trying to figure out when did that start happening? And why. It has been happening for years now. It started when I had to change faster than the people around me because of the loss. It was like I was spinning while everyone else was walking by. You see the spinning after loss doesn’t include the walkers of a routine life. So when the spinning slowed down and I was able to join the walk, trying to explain how dizzy I was from the spinning was not easy. The walkers had never experienced a long spin cycle. Spinning for as long as you and I have, alters everything. When you join the walk again you are no longer a walker but a spinner. Spinners don’t walk like the walkers. We make circles around the walkers. So then life goes on, without really talking about what’s inside our spin. And now and again you will meet another spinner and say more than you normally say. When one spinner can see the other the superficiality drops. And you can talk from inside the spin. When you are able to spin with someone you no longer feel alone. And you don’t have to pretend to walk anymore. I am not here to tell you not to share your thoughts with the people in your life who love you. You can if you want, and I do sometimes. But know that it is only natural to feel as if they don’t get it. They can’t. They have never span like you. Life after loss spins you around like a tornado, nothing is the same after. (Click to Tweet!) My life after loss, has had many tornadoes, some I created, some came to me. Spinning is part of life now, even after you healed, reentered and understood what happened to you. Now you must learn to be in the spin and find other spinners to share your heart out. Anything else is not worth your time. You are my spinners and I am yours. And I am so grateful for that. With lots of spinning, Christina Join the Life Reentry on Demand class here: https://lifereentry.com/life-reentry-on-demand/Read More
You can be with as many people as possible but the you inside of you, is alone. You experience everything as one. Every emotion is not felt through you as a group or as a family. Even if everyone feels the same grief or fear, it is not felt together. The emotion doesn’t get shared. The load can only be carried by you. The grief can only be processed by your heart. It is you that has to get out of your comfort zone. No matter how much love, support, attention and care you have, you are doing this alone. This is why I am speaking to you in this manner. The only thing I or others can do is witness you and love you. The you, is the only real guide of your life. The only place you have to master. “It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.” Sir Edmund Hillary With grief, it is not the loss you have to overcome but how you can command yourself through it. How you can pick up yourself from the floor after a whole night of crying. Find the strength to pack up their things from the closet. Sell their car. Get yourself to work. You see, it is always about how YOU can do this. Nobody else can do any of this but you. What am I asking you to do here? I am asking you to train yourself. Honestly, life after loss feels like boot camp. Military style. It hurts like hell. And you have to keep going. (Click to Tweet!) Everything is stopping you from life reentry and yet you have to scream through it all to make it. So when they come to advice you about what to do, you look them in the eyes and smile. Put your hand on their shoulder and say thank you but I got this. Because you do. It is your screams. Your tears. Your panic attacks. It is your mountain and nobody can carry you there but your heart, your legs, your brain and your own mind. The you inside must do it all. I am sorry. I wish it was different. The good news is, you are the mountain. And you have nothing to fear. Life after loss is under your command. With many mountains and summits, Christina P.S. Finally the Life Reentry class is on Demand. 6 weeks. 6 videos. One big group. And it is forever yours, to take the journey as many times as possible. And I will be there inside that group to see your grief cleanses, and your plug ins and your many reentries. REGISTER HERERead More
Christina’s strange but accurate weekly letter about life after loss.