Saturday, March 4, 2017

Surviving Year Two: Week 30

Que Sera, Sera

This is Week 30 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

This morning I woke up with a song in my head. This often happens to me, and whenever I can, I try to play the song as soon as possible, to see what messages I am receiving from my unconscious. This morning is was "Qué Será, Será (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)" by Sly and the Family Stone (sung by Sly and his sister, the fantastic Rose Stone). I know it's not the original, but this is the first version I ever heard of this song and I remember listening to it over and over again on my little record player. The message resonated so deeply in my little girl heart.

When I was a kid, I was never excited about the future like my other friends. I grew up in an anxious, worried, intellectual household and I was exposed to a lot of the dark things of the world relatively early. I was afraid all the time — of nuclear war, of being abducted, of never truly being seen or loved. Listening to this song, over and over, made me feel better. It released the pressure of the "future tripping" I was taught to do. Whatever will be, will be.

When I meet other people who grew up in a similar way — familiar with this anxious worry at far too young an age — I cling to them like my tribe. These kinds of people understand me in ways that people who grew up with "happy, blissful" childhoods simply cannot. For example, those that grew up anxious and worried often run "worst-case scenarios" through their heads in the hopes that it will "protect" them from actual bad stuff happening. I used to do this too, and one of those scenarios was my husband suddenly dying.

And then the very thing I feared most and tried to protect myself from, actually happened. All that anxious worrying and "future tripping" did nothing to stop it from happening. And in a horrible way, that is one of the gifts of this tragedy. "The future's not ours to see...." I might as well let things be however they are going to be.

There is a calmness in this for me, today. It is a place I can rest.

Thank you for witnessing me. See you next week.

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