Surviving Year Two: Week 52 - THE END

THE END

This is Week 52 and THE END of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

I made it. I'm here. This is the end of my project. My husband's Two-Year Death Anniversary is tomorrow. It is difficult to put into words how I feel. I have to say that the widows I spoke to were right — Year Two of surviving sudden death is by far the hardest. There seems to be a mixed experience of Year Three — for some it's harder, and for some, it starts to get a big easier. I found a lot of hope and solace in reading Christina Rasmussen's piece she wrote in May, called The Long Game After Loss. Here's what she says about Year Three:

In year three you will start to breathe again, not as often as you would like but enough to know it is possible to have something good in your life again.
Until year three you can’t give up on hope.

I do feel a shift around this anniversary, as compared to last year's. On his One-Year Death Anniversary, I couldn't bear to be alone. I had friends come over and we had a big bonfire in his honor.

This year, I don't want to be around a bunch of people. I have some plans with friends during the day, but in the evening, I want to be alone in our home. I plan to light candles on his altar and sit with my love and grief for him. He is one year further away from me and I feel that loss very deeply. I also feel a new spirit connection to him that I wasn't ready to feel before. I look forward to seeing him in my dreams now, even if it makes me sob on awakening. I want to keep this connection to him while also being able to really explore and expand my new life on my own.

Which begs the question — what comes next? How do I live in and through Year Three? As I have said before, I think Year Three will be about discovering who I am, now that I am alone again. I have some ideas about what I want to share here in Year Three, but none of them have felt quite solid yet, so things may be quiet here for awhile. I know that I do love these projects — they have helped me process and feel my grief in such a powerful way — so, I don't want to stop. But, I do need some time to process this anniversary and feel into what comes next. I keep being pushed to do video updates, which feels super scary and difficult to manage. We shall see how it all unfolds. You can always stay connected to me on my Instagram feed (where some new videos may be appearing soon).

I want to share my deep gratitude to all of you who have witnessed me on my Grief Journeys. It means so much to me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Surviving Year Two: Week 51

Ritual Seed Sprouts: Week 11

This is Week 51 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

There is only one more week of this project. In one week, my husband will have been dead for two years. This number shocks me on many levels. On the one hand, it is stunning that I haven't seen his face or heard his laugh in two whole years. On the other hand, I've changed so much since he passed away, that two years seems like a very short time. It is strange to feel both these feelings at once.

Today's image celebrates the seeds that were planted during my Healing Grief - Flowering Ritual. These ritual sprouts are now almost as tall as I am. I love having this living presence, reminding me that even in my darkest moments, I am growing and reaching for the light.  There is a heaviness in my body, but it's not a bad or depressed heaviness — more like a deep grounding in the present. This is me. I am here. I feel this way. My roots stretch down to the depths of the earth. My life experiences resonate like vibrating harp strings through my ancestral history. I have always been here before.

I had a long talk with a friend yesterday about the "afterlife." I was telling him how jealous I was of the widows I have met who are Christians and are so sure that their dead husbands are happy and in heaven, enjoying ambrosia salad and foot rubs. I want to know that for my husband, but that is not my belief. I actually don't know where he is, or if any part of his soul even exists anymore. And I'm not sure I want to know. It almost feels better to me to stay open to all the possibilities. 

Thank you for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 50

Today I am 45-years-old

This is Week 50 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

Today I complete my 45th revolution around the sun. It is also a New Moon. I am two weeks away from completing my #SurvivingYearTwo Grief Project, which is also the Two Year Anniversary of my husband's death.

It's stunning to me how quickly time passes these days. It's difficult for me to stay in the present, as I keep looking back to the past or being worried about the future. To stay grounded, I continue to excavate myself. I think this process of excavation and "digging into me" will play a big role in Year Three of my Grief Journey. My art projects are so essential for me to unravel and process my feelings as I move forward into my new life as a widow. I actually do a lot of this deep dive work on my radio show, and yesterday I recorded the newest episode, exploring some childhood loves and passions. It all stems from the question, "Who am I without my husband?"

As my birthday started to loom this year, all I wanted to do was hide and pretend it wasn't happening. I did not make any plans. Several friends ended up volunteering to celebrate with me, so I have a nice day planned with brunches and adventures. I am so grateful for these thoughtful friends, that love me and want to celebrate me, even when I can't do either for myself right now. Having my husband's death date be so close to my birthday really hurts. It's like a double-whammy of time passing — of him becoming further away from me, while I keep getting older and living my life without him. I hope that I will find joy again, around celebrating my birth. In the meantime, I will do my very best to be here now, and appreciate all the moments of joy I can.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 49

Tacos & Giggles (photo by a friend who hates to be tagged on the Internet)

This is Week 49 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

My friends have kept me alive through this grief process. That is a fact. If I had tried to do this on my own, I would have never survived this long. My friends have shown up for me in more ways then I could possibly mention. Many of them surprised me with their caring and generosity. A few surprised me with their withdrawal and fear of my grief. While it hurt at the time, I have found a place of forgiveness for them. Grief is hard to witness in people we love. Some folks just can't handle it.

But for those who have been showing up for me in their own raw, authentic, loving place, I am forever grateful. This includes friends who will pick up the phone when I call and listen and cry with me and then make me laugh a minute later. This includes friends who show up, ready to help me clean my house, pull weeds and make calls. And this includes friends who text me to come meet them for tacos and a neighborhood walk, while we talk about fear and grief and creativity.

Today's image was taken by one of those friends who is always up for hanging out and creating something in the moment. He always reminds me that there is more to explore and more to create, even in the worst of times. Giggles come easily with him, as do new ideas and fresh perspectives. After tacos, we walked around the beautiful town I live in, petting neighborhood cats and singing the entire Muppet Movie soundtrack as the sun gently set.

I've also noticed that when I take photos of myself, I am rarely if ever smiling. When others take my picture, I am almost always smiling. This has multiple meanings, including that even now, I hide my sadness from others. But it also means that I can find joy much more easily when I am with friends. While I think I am right in the middle between being an introvert and an extrovert, I definitely do get energy from being around other people. This is important for me to remember, because when I get sad, I cocoon — not wanting to "bring other people down." I'm trying to say yes to more social events, even if I show up sad, scared and alone. Sometimes this backfires on me, leaving me feeling more broken and wounded than before. But sometimes it can lift me up out of my sadness and help me find joy again.

It's a process that is always changing.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 48

Full Moon in Capricorn

This is Week 48 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

It's a Full Moon tonight. This month's full moon has been called the Summer Moon, the Hungry Ghost Moon, the Ripe Corn Moon, the Crane Moon, the Moon of the Middle Summer, the Moon of Claiming, the Mead Moon, the Rose Moon, the Full Buck Moon (for the new antlers of buck deer pushing out of their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur), the Full Thunder Moon, the Grass Cutter Moon, the Moon When Squash are Ripe, the Raspberry Moon, the Horse Moon, the Moon of Ripeness, the Moon When Buffalo Bellow, the Red Berries Moon, the Homedance Moon, the Fury Moon & the Full Hay Moon.

It's also a full moon in Capricorn and the moon was in Capricorn when I was born, AND it's my birthday month (my birthday happens to fall directly on the New Moon this year). It all feels like another huge turn of the wheel and I find myself in a slightly new place.

My grief continues to show up in new and startling ways. This week, the Widow/er World is all a flutter about the new engagement announcement of the comedian Patton Oswalt. His wife suddenly passed away eight months after my husband (in an eerily similar way). When I saw that he not only was dating but was ready to get married a year and a few months after the death of his wife, I was completely shocked. I don't judge his choice — we all grieve differently. I am more feeling how much I am NOT ready to marry anyone, let alone start dating in a serious way. How can he move through his grief so much more quickly than I can? It makes me scared about my path. That I am getting stuck. That I will never be able to love anyone the way I loved my husband.

Apparently there is a hashtag around the fact that #MenMoveOn. My Grief Counselor told me it is very common for her to see men get married within a year of losing their spouses — that they quickly "replace" their dead wives in part because processing emotions is so difficult for men. Is Patton Oswalt doing this? I have no idea. I don't personally know him, and those that are attacking him for his life choices definitely need to shut up and leave him alone. AND, I am also really feeling some complicated feelings about someone who can move on to their next love so quickly. Both are true for me.

So I will navigate this full moon as best I can, connecting to the Capricorn moon that was rising when I was born. I will keep choosing life, even when I feel so completely hopeless.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 47

Everything Ends & Everything Begins Again

This is Week 47 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

I have really been going through it this month. This last lunation (May 25, 2017 to June 24, 2017) seemed to knock a lot of us around. The Summer Solstice jumped in there as well for extra, energetic turbulence.

The Moon and I go way back. Being a lonely, little girl, the Moon was always there for me. When I was small, I thought she followed me around and I would always look for her when I needed a friend. The first time I saw the Moon in the daytime, I thought she came out just for me.

As I grew up and connected to my nature-based spirituality, I learned about the cycles of the Moon and how connected they are to the menstrual cycle, the tides, and the seasons. When social media started getting popular, I infused my posts with wisdom about the moon blending the new world with the old. I still do. When it is the start of the New Moon, I remind everyone that everything ends and everything begins again. When it is a Full Moon, I remind everyone about the many names each particular lunation has had around the world.

In some of my darkest hours this month, the phrase "everything ends and everything begins again" has saved me. I clung to that truth, white-knuckling my way through the darkness, the suicidal feelings and the despair.

"Wholeness does not mean perfection: it means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life. Knowing this gives me hope that human wholeness — mine, yours, ours — need not be a utopian dream, if we can use devastation as a seedbed for new life." ~ Parker J. Palmer

Ritual Seed Sprouts: Week 7

Today, I feel like I have survived a ship wreck. I am bloodied and battered. I have crawled to shore and friends have come and soothed my burns with handmade balms and put me to bed to sleep and heal. I don't feel very good, but I don't feel lost at sea today. I know that more rough waters lie ahead and more and more I think the key to survival is knowing how to navigate those ship wrecked moments. Trying to live a life of no ship wrecks is impossible.

So as a hopeful help to you, my sweet reader, and a reminder to my future, scared, ship-wrecked self, here are some things that help me get through the darkness (and see an almost identical list in my Surviving Year Two: Week 15 post!):

• drinking water
• taking my vitamins
• eating a banana
• calling a friend who is NOT AFRAID of my darkness and can be loving and present with it
• watching a movie I love
• listening to good music and moving my body
• burying my face in a furry kitty belly
• going outside and walking barefoot
• taking a shower or a bath
• reading a good book

I think a lot about the wise words of 88-year-old Bodhi Hanna Kistner, who felt that she didn't truly understand or feel happiness until her 60's:

"I think it's the skill of living in the present that I have mastered in the last 25 years. It is the key to enjoying your life in full. Enjoying life doesn't mean being unreasonably excited all the time. On the contrary, as I became older I realized that the first step towards finding the joy of life was to accept reality openly and sincerely, accept everything as it is. Reality is not perfect. But it is important to face the truth. This attitude works wonders."

Again and again, I try to return to the NOW. When I am lost in the dark place, it is always because I am grief-stricken about the past, or frightened and anxious about the future. When I can drop into the NOW, I realize that I am alive and breathing and living in my open human human heart and there is tremendous healing and vitality in that space. It can be SO HARD to find that wisdom when I feel like I am hanging on for dear life, as I am tossed and pummeled by the sea of my emotions, but I must remember to hang on and hold on. It will get better. And then it will get worse. And then it will get better again. I must learn to ride the tides like the good Moon Witch I know myself to be.

Thank you for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 46

Sinking

This is Week 46 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

I am sinking into the earth. I want to let it consume me — let it strip away all the dead parts of my body and turn me into something new.

These last few weeks have been extremely difficult. I miss being excited and hopeful. I miss looking forward to things. I keep trying to think of things to be excited about, but nothing seems to penetrate my depressed darkness. My art making leaves me feeling empty. I go to parties and smile and laugh, but it's like there is a giant hole in my heart and I know that nothing can fill it. I feel like an addict that has no addiction. This giant hole in my heart just exists. I just exist. I feel like a shell of who I once was and I don't know how to re-build.

Those older widows were right. Year Two is 1,000 times harder than Year One. And I hear Year Three is even worse. I can't imagine hurting more than this, but I guess I have to get ready for more. How do we survive this kind of heartbreak as humans? I know so many strong widows, who have re-built their lives and have found joy again. What if I can't do that? What if I am just too broken? What then?

My dreams tell me to keep making art, no matter what. Even when it feels hollow and empty and meaningless — keep creating. So that is what I will do and I will try to find some tiny pebbles of hope on the path and put them in my pocket.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 45

Chopped

This is Week 45 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here. 

Shortly after my husband died, my hair stylist of almost two decades moved away. For that first year, I didn't get my hair cut at all. This year, I have been trying out new stylists without much luck. Today I saw someone new and she ended up talking so much that she just kind of kept chopping and chopping and chopping until over half my hair was gone.

At first I was filled with panic, because the old bleached ends that literally showed, like rings on a tree, when my husband was still alive are now gone. After getting my hair chopped, I sat in my hot car and cried and cried and cried. Then I went on with my day, doing all my weekend errands so I can hide out from the even hotter day tomorrow.

As I went grocery shopping and to the library and to the hardware store, I felt how light my hair felt. My neck wasn't sweating quite as much and I wasn't constantly pulling strands of long itchy hair out of my face.

It feels like a new beginning, as I face down my upcoming 45th birthday and the two year anniversary of my husband's death. It feels like part of the opening and flowering I am trying to welcome in, even though it is also painful and scary. What comes next?

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 44

Full Moon Growing Pains

This is Week 44 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

This has been a rough week. I was expecting a bit of "postpartum" after my Healing Grief - Flowering Ritual, but not to this caliber. I think there are a lot of factors at play, including the fact that my 45th birthday is almost here, which also means that the two year anniversary of my husband's death will follow two weeks later.

45 feels like one of those "big" numbers. I am solidly middle-aged and alone. The grey continues to show up in my hair. The wrinkles crinkle around my eyes. My hands are beginning to look like the hands of an old lady, and not my own. I am facing the life of a spinster widow.

As I continue to put one foot in front of the other and try to live this current life of mine, I can't stop thinking about how much my husband helped me to see myself. He knew me so well and when my life seemed to fly off the rails and I lost connection to myself, he was always there to point out what he knew about me, what he knew I was capable of and what he knew I was good at. We walked forward in out life together, hand-in-hand, making choices and decisions that were best for the two of us as a partnered team. I don't have my partner and ally anymore and I feel more lost at sea than ever.

The Grief Veil from my Healing Ritual

Now that I am close to finishing my second year as a widow, I have noticed a few things. Year One was a fog of to-do lists, grief, anxiety and being held in love and support by my friends. Year Two has been about survival — holding down a full-time job, keeping myself fed, keeping my car running, etc. It is starting to seem like Year Three is going to be about figuring out who the fuck I am now. I am not partnered. I am not a wife. I am alone, beholden to no one. This is immense freedom, but how do I make choices about my life when I don't know who I am now?

Am I an itinerant preacher, who can travel America in a van? Am I a cosmic painter who can live in a yurt in exchange for gardening? Am I a creative leader who can run a non-profit arts organization? Am I an author who can support herself by independently run book tours, relying on the kindness of new friends I haven't met yet? Am I a hands-on healer, who sees clients in a cabin in the woods? Am I a Mythologist, working in academia while writing articles on the side? Am I a Ritualist, designing personal rituals for those who need them? Am I a Witchy Radio DJ, sharing wisdom over the airwaves and being supported by my spiritual patrons?

I am all of these people and yet none of them.

Add to that, the work I am doing with my Open Human Heart, which asks me to move past my "beliefs, self-images, assumptions, blind spots, embarrassments and shadows" to find my most authentic self in Love. It's quite an intense process that feels like sitting in an alchemical alembic that is disintegrating me. I am questioning everything I have ever believed in, thought and done. It makes me question who I am, constantly and that is not a comfortable feeling. It hurts. It is bewildering. It is frightening.

Last night was the Full Moon. This month's moon has been called: the Moon of Integration, the Rose Moon, the Lotus Moon, the Green Corn Moon, the Windy Moon, the Moon When Berries are Ripe, the Moon of Horses, the Dyan Moon, the Planting Moon, the Moon When Ponies Shed Their Shaggy Hair, the Full Leaf Moon, the Turtle Moon & the Strawberry Moon (for the relatively short season for harvesting strawberries).

I am feeling the fullness of this particular lunation. I do think that this hard emotional week is part of my integration. Sometimes new growth is painful, as my delicate little sprouts reach for the sun, hoping to flower some day.

Thank you for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 43

Inside the Flowering

This is Week 43 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here. 

It's been three weeks since my Healing Grief - Flowering Ritual. In many ways, it feels like much more time has passed. I have solidly returned to my "every day life" — back to the day-to-day of work, weightlifting, grocery shopping, laundry, etc. And yet, the ritual is staying with me. I am surprised by the subtle but important ways it is shifting me.

Thanks to the recommendation of a friend, I was introduced to Open Human Heart work. It's been a very powerful practice to be grounded and present in my deepest, most authentic feelings. This has helped me a lot with "being okay" with my grief and rage around the loss of my husband, while also giving me re-access to my deepest joy. Being led to this work and really embracing it, feels like part of my flowering — welcoming in new blooms in myself.

Week 3 of the Ritual Seeds Planted

It's as if I have stepped sideways back into my life. It's still my life, but I have a slightly new perspective. I have still felt extremely deep grief since my ritual. I've woken up crying and afraid in the night. But, my vessel feels stronger. Through my ritual work and now this new modality with the Open Human Heart work, I feel more at home in my feelings. There is a vibrancy and solidity to my heart and mind and body. I feel more hopeful about the future. In many ways I am living more deeply in the unknown. I am understanding that I truly have no control over what is happening or going to happen in my life and in the world. What I DO have is the ability to be as completely present as I possibly can in any situation, and stay as open as possible to the wisdom of my heart and my feelings.

It's interesting how many times I have been told that I am "brave and strong" for being so open about my feelings on my grief journey. I don't doubt that I am brave and strong, but I am also doing the most natural thing for a human to do. Our culture has trained us to not be "weak" and show our dark side to the world, when in the deeper truth of the matter, our feelings in the most vulnerable of places can be the source of immense power and vitality. 

I remember when I was ordained as an Interfaith Minister, our ordination group co-wrote our vows together and one of my contributions was "power in vulnerability." Some members of the group really resisted including that vow, and yet for me, it is one of the most powerful, truthful vows we committed to.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 42

The Flowering Continues

This is Week 42 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here. 

It's been two weeks since my Healing Grief - Flowering Ritual.  Part of the ritual was planting seeds into a planter box my husband made from scavenged wood. Along with good energy and deep wishes, some of my husband's ashes were also mixed in to the soil. This week, the seeds we planted began doing what seeds do — they have started to sprout!

I love living symbols like these little sprouts. They are a reminder to all of us who were present in the sacred circle that the ritual we created together keeps going, even after we have gone back to our lives. My opening, flowering heart feels a bit like these little sprouts — tender and new, yet fiercely strong and ready to grow.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 41

The Flowering

This is Week 41 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

It's been a week since my amazing Healing Grief - Flowering Ritual. I have since returned to my "regular life." As Jack Kornfield says, "after the ecstasy, the laundry." The work now is to integrate the transformation and healing from my ritual into my day-to-day being. I suppose that just happens  — I don't have to necessarily "do" anything, but I do want to stay aware and connected to the powerful feelings I felt during my ritual.

It's very jarring to return to my work life, which takes so much of my brain power and physical energy. I am grateful that one of my co-workers was also at my ritual. After a department meeting, I returned to my cubicle to find rose petals strewn around my office! It was a wonderful, sweet reminder that the ritual is still working and I'm so grateful for this sweet moment, orchestrated by my ritual cohort and cubicle colleague, Kim!

Sacred Bedroom Blessing

This weekend I plan to lay low, make some art, sleep and let my body and soul rest a bit. I have been gestating and planning this ritual since March, and it is really dazzling to see my thoughts, drawings and ideas come alive and be something even better than I could have ever imagined. It's so empowering to plan something like this and let it bloom. I really do feel like I am flowering.

I'm so grateful, not just to the seven amazing humans who showed up to circle me in ritual and love, but for the many other helpers, who crafted with me, mixed up essential oils, talked to me late into the night as I whispered my fears and hopes, and thought good thoughts for me on the day of. I'm so grateful.

There are only eleven more weeks in this project — eleven more posts and the 2 Year Anniversary of my husband's death will arrive. "What comes next?" seems to always be a question at the back of my mind. Even the day after my amazing ritual, there was a little taskmaster voice that said, "Okay. That's done. What are you going to work on now?" I want to give myself a break. I want to breathe into the accomplishments I have already achieved. I want to rest.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 40

Healing Grief-Flowering Ritual

This is Week 40 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

Yesterday I held my Healing Grief - Flowering Ritual. Seven people came and circled around me and held the space as I went through the three stages of my ritual: honoring the love I shared with my husband, honoring the grief I have survived since he died, and welcoming in the new flowering possibilities of my future. It was profound and deep and powerful and healing. There are truly no words to express how I feel today. My body is reverberating with love and healing and joy and peace.

One of my many "ritual props/accessories" was a crown of Brown Alba Clamshell mushrooms. I chose to wear mushrooms in my hair because it is the perfect symbol for being a widow. We have lived deep in the earth of grief and our bloom is the bloom of decay and death. Mushrooms are amazing in all they can do,  and it felt powerful and important that they had a presence in my ritual.

Today would have been our 12-year Wedding Anniversary. 12 years ago, my husband and I had a ritual of love and commitment to each other. Yesterday, I had a ritual of love and commitment to myself. Thank you to all of you who held me in their hearts yesterday. I felt it and it was powerful.

I am held. I am loved. I am so grateful.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 39

The Many Lenses of Grief

This is Week 39 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.


Next weekend is my Flowering Healing Ritual, which I have been planning and creating for months. I've been incredibly anxious and worried about it, and now that I am in the last precious weekend before, I seem to have found a place of calmness. There is still so much to do — too much, in fact. But I find myself in a place of letting things unfold however they will. One of my dear friends is driving up from southern California to stay with me next weekend and one of my priorities was making a nice nest for her in my spare room. This room has been filled with what I have been calling my "Mourning Boxes," ever since my husband died. They are boxes full of things I did not want to look at or deal with.


Today, I started the daunting task of going through these boxes. I've started sorting and filling up boxes to give away to the thrift store. I have cried many times and yet it also feels good to really look at these things and ask myself if I want to keep them in my life. My husband was a scavenger and he prided himself on the prizes he found in his scavenging. I have kept many of his prizes that were not prizes to me, out of an obligation to him. I am letting those things go and I know he is glad of it. The spare room also used to be my painting studio, and it feels exciting to liberate my paints and canvases from behind the boxes — to let them breathe again.


I have not yet been able to pick up a paint brush since my husband died. I was just about to start a brand new, giant canvas when he passed away and every time I have thought of painting again, I start to sob. I'm still not ready, but opening up that space to invite in art and beloved friends feels good. It all feels part of this ritual — that it is already working on me, before it has even happened. I find that ritual often works that way.


Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week. Speaking of which, if you find yourself able to send some love and healing thoughts my way, the afternoon/evening of May 13, 2017, please do so. I will be moving through some powerful energies and I believe in the power of good thoughts and prayers. Every little bit helps. Thank you.

Surviving Year Two: Week 38

Spring Heart

This is Week 37 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

Beltane will arrive (here in the Northern Hemisphere) this week. Spring is in full swing and with the New Moon so recently appearing, I have really felt the movement of new growth and new beginnings. This weekend, I was able to work on some important ritual crafting for my upcoming healing ceremony, which is a few weeks away. Some dear friends came over and helped me craft and we all shared stories of our lives as aging ladies in a chaotic and confusing world. The intense power of healing and calm I felt after spending this precious time in this trio is hard to explain in mere words.

As I have mentioned before, I am working with the author Danielle Dulsky in promoting her new book, Woman Most Wild, and in her book, she talks about the "three keys for liberating the witch within." Essentially, those three keys are: aligning with the cycles of nature; understanding the importance of ritual and ceremony; and bonding with like-minded seekers. I really felt like I embodied all three of these keys this weekend. I can feel the power that these acts released, moving in my body — freeing up and liberating energy that I thought was lost to me forever.

Red is MY color of Mourning

I still feel grief and deep heartbreak, AND I also feel like I have a more solid ground to feel my feelings. I have more access to the powerful tools that help me get up off the ground and look towards the future with hope. This hope is like a quiet little flame in my heart, where before there was only darkness. The old ways, blended with my modern life, is my path. It is a constant collaboration with spirit — I take the next step and listen to the response to my call.

As I was crafting the headpiece I am going to wear during my Healing Ritual, I understood new insights as I did this physical act of making. I wasn't sure why I needed to use red fabric until I started cutting and shredding the material and realized that while traditionally the color of mourning is black, my mourning color is red — the color of blood, the color of love, the color of the heart. This was new information to me that I would not have known until I did this ritual act of making and then receiving a response from spirit. It is so powerful to understand what our own, personal archetypes are.

This process of listening and acting is my path. It is a path of questions and answers. What ritual do I need to create? Where am I on my cycle? Where is my circle of women to sit and create with? I re-connect and I re-member. I am healing. I am growing. I am flowering.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 37

Healing My Body/My Heart/My Mind/My Soul

This is Week 37 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

I have been working through some newly resurfaced body shame, that feels connected to my Grief. I have been doing a lot of body healing (including lots of doctor and chiropractor visits) which has forced me to be present in my body in a way that has always been scary to me, despite being a weightlifter for 11 years.

I always find it fascinating that when we start to consciously focus on an aspect of healing, transformation almost immediately starts happening, whether we are "doing" something about it or not. It's as if just clearly making the intention and bringing our focus to that aspect of healing changes the energetic vibration — like just having the intention re-calibrates things to prepare for the deeper healing work to come.

I was finally able to see a Sports Medicine Doctor about my injured shoulder and was officially diagnosed with an impingement in my subscapularis muscle with some focused bursitis. Now that my Chiropractor knows what is going on in there, she is doing some focused therapy and it's already helping my shoulder pain tremendously. Because I have Kaiser, it took OVER A YEAR before they would let me see a Specialist, but my rage at the dysfunction of the Kaiser system is for another time!

Clothes I Would Have Never Worked Out in Before

As I have shared previously, going to the doctor as a fat person is a brutal experience of fighting for my right to exist as the size I am (although, I'd like to say that the office of Dr. Neid, the Sports Medicine Doctor I saw at Kaiser, Santa Rosa, had absolutely no body shaming of any kind! Perhaps because he works with weightlifters and knows that athletes come in ALL shapes and sizes). When I have to fight for the rights and safety of my body, it forces me to fight for my own existence. In a time when suicide has been a very real thought in my mind, it is an interesting experience to then fight tooth and nail for my right to exist.

As I care for the healing of my body and the healing of my Grief, I have been experimenting with new clothing. Lots of ladies (and some men) wear very tight leggings to lift in at my gym. I always admired how they looked and yearned for the ease and comfort they must be feeling to be so unrestricted — both in clothing and in body shame. I have also been watching a lot of Glitter & Lazers videos and she regularly highlights cute, very form-fitting workout clothes. One of her "hauls" included leggings by Lola Getts (and FYI, they aren't paying me anything to promote them — I truly am impressed with their workout clothes). When I tried them on, they were extremely form-fitting, supportive and comfortable. I knew I had to lift in them, but I was panicked by showing that much of my body in the gym. I was so used to hiding my body in baggy sweatpants and voluminous t-shirts.

When I wore my new, tight leggings to go lift at the gym, I did see some eyebrows go up, which made me fill with body shame. But I breathed through it and let that shame go and got on with my lifting. I was then filled with so much joy and happiness at having consciously moved through that shame that my weights felt light as air. It was like my body was running on rocket fuel and champagne. It was dizzying and wonderful. In that moment, I realized that other people being uncomfortable around my body is their problem, not mine.

So now, as I move through my grief, missing my husband and the way he relished, loved and supported my body in all its forms, I am learning to love myself with the same fervor and passion. This is liberation. This is healing.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 36

The Joy in the Grief

This is Week 36 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here. 

I've been doing a lot of healing work around FEELING all my feelings, without judgment and without stories. I find, when I can connect to the truest, deepest feelings coming through my heart and body, it almost doesn't matter if it is joy, grief, fear or anger. It's all powerful and important and essential to feel.

I remember during the first month my husband died, so many of my friends reached out to me with their own stories of loss and grief. One friend gave me the very sage advice to not let anyone speed up my grief process. He told me about when his father suddenly died and his friends were trying to tell him that "everything happens for a reason" and he should just "let his father go." He finally got really angry and said, "Just let me enjoy my father's death!" When I tell this story, people often either get it, or they don't. I get it, now more than ever. I want to deeply feel all my feelings, including my grief around the loss of my beloved husband. There is a richness and depth in true feelings — something that can actually really be relished and enjoyed, as opposed to siphoning off the feeling because it seems too scary or threatening to feel.

Honestly, it's hard to write and talk about, because it is so body and heart-centered. It is not in the realm of the intellect or the mind. I think a similar modality might be Eckhart Tolle's concept of The Power of Now. Be here now. Feel everything. Don't be afraid. We are held and loved in every moment, even the painful and scary ones. 

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 35

Body Shame

This is Week 35 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

I actually had a completely different post all ready to go yesterday and I couldn't press "Publish" on it. It felt dishonest. Not that my writing wasn't true and authentic (I always strive for that), but more that there was something much bigger that was present in my grief process and I wasn't acknowledging it, because I was too scared to. So I deleted my original post and took some photos related to how I'm currently feeling this week.

I don't weigh myself at home, because I learned a really long time ago that the numbers on a scale don't have a lot of meaning and yet carry tremendous power over my happiness. However, when I go to the doctor, I do get weighed and that happened this week. The last time I was weighed, it was about a year ago and I was fresh in my grief. I had stopped eating and therefore had lost 20 lbs. I actually have a post all about that day and how traumatic it was for me to be "congratulated" on my grief weight loss.

Body Shame II

So it's been a year since that day and guess what? I have gained the weight I lost in grief back, plus a bit more. So I of course get the alarmed "we need to talk about your weight" talk with my doctor. I calmly explained that a year ago, I was in deep grief and not eating. I am eating again and lifting a bit more weight at the gym. My body is trying to regulate itself. My clothes still fit, so I think my body may be redistributing itself. I might be building up muscle again. As usual, my calm explanation of how I know my body works was met with willfully deaf ears. I was threatened with being forced to take the well-known to be totally useless "wellness classes" if I didn't lose the weight by my next visit. These kinds of threats only make me never want to never return to the doctor, sacrificing my actual health maintenance to avoid the painful experience of a medical professional harassing me about something that I cannot permanently change.

While I am proud that I fought for myself in the doctor's office, I have felt the energetic repercussions of that experience all week. When normally, I often admire my body in photos or in the mirror, I have noticed that I have been falling back into some very old patterns of self-hatred. When I look at my naked body, I start to see it through the lens of our demented American culture, that sees a body like mine as something to make fun of and be disgusted by. Instead of seeing my strong, healthy, capable body, I see "too much" and the desire to shrink down into nothing overwhelms me.

Add to that, my current heartbreak and confusion around dating as a 44-year-old widow and the body shame goes through the roof. Who would want to be with a body like mine? These are old, hard, sad feelings that overwhelm me. Is this a part of grief, as well? My husband LOVED my body. He celebrated it every day. When we walked down the street, it was women with bodies like mine that turned his head. He relished my strength and my curves and my vastness. I miss seeing the look in his eyes, as he would gaze at me — a big lopsided grin on his face — like he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be with a woman like me. I miss him. I miss feeling strong and loving and appreciating my body. I'm scared I will never feel that way again. I'm scared no one will ever look at me the way my husband did.

Thanks for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 34

Maps of Scars

This is Week 34 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

As I continue to get older, I think about all the life experiences that have "marked" me, both inside and out. Some of them were quite traumatic and left deep scars, and yet as I plan for my Healing Ritual on my 12-year Wedding Anniversary in May, I am realizing that those life experiences also made me who I am. My husband's sudden death is no exception. Living through that and surviving as a widow has marked me, changed me, and made me into a person I was not before. This transformation has both good and bad aspects and that is very interesting for me to think about this week.

Who am I now? Who is this Spinster Widow I have become? Who is this Solo Crafting Witch, who spends her nights cuddling furry beasts and dreaming of the past? What does her future hold?

Thank you for witnessing me. See you next week.

Surviving Year Two: Week 33

Living with Death & Embracing the Spinster

This is Week 33 of my Surviving Year Two Grief Project. Details about all my Grief Projects, as well as Grief Resources can be found here.

One year and 33 weeks. The roundness of this number sits with me today. As Spring arrives to my part of the world, I watch the new life sprout from death all around me. New flowers burst forth from the dark earth. My kitties bring in fat gophers and leave bloody trails through the house. The flowers on the altar drop their petals. Death is everywhere, all the time, and so is birth and new energies. We cannot have one without the other.

I am more solid in my "new life" as a Spinster Widow. I work. I lift weights. I make art. I call my friends on the phone and hope that some day I will have more energy to go out and do things. I don't date. I cuddle with my two kitties as much as possible. Their furry wildness helps me remember my own animal needs — my own call to the wild. I feel close to going feral myself, which in some ways is the "spinster's greatest fear" — to lose her home and have to survive in the wilderness with no tribe and family to call her own. I feel that call to the wild in the wet, foggy mornings, as I get ready to go lift weights before work. Instead of tearing off my clothes and running into the woods, I grab my coffee and my bags and drive to the gym in the dark. I am choosing to stay here, with the people but the wildness is running through my veins. I am unattached. I am untethered. I am a Spinster Widow.

Thank you for witnessing me. See you next week.