Head Above Water
Before we begin, I know this story may not seem like a typical smiley, happy-go-lucky No Shoes No Worries post. It’s a story about healing, trust, strength, loss and the importance of self care. Consider this my heart on paper, and a deep dive into the last few months.
As I’ve come to learn, transparency and shedding a bit of light into the reality of life’s ups and downs can be messy. In what has become a version of the world that is highlighted by people’s achievements and life’s highs, we easily forget the low’s we all experience along the way.
The past couple months, contrary to the colourful vision I paint on social media and the blog, have been some of the hardest and darkest of my life. The reason why I kept posting on the brighter side of things is because it provided a little bit of light, even for myself, in times when I needed it the most.
When Life Seemingly Crumbles
Earlier this August, I lost my dad and, exactly two months later, my grandmother. Within my close family, and a part from my mother, these two souls were the closest of my family members. They were also the people that raised me and taught me the most important life lessons. Loosing them one after the other was simply unthinkable.
While I hesitate as I write this, it’s this type of vulnerability that I’m letting myself open up to. I write this for those who, like me, are stuck with the idea that mental and physical strength are the best type of coping mechanism. Those who automatically say “I’m fine” to every genuine, concerned and loving question of “how are you?”.
It’s also for those who sometimes get easily discouraged or don’t feel good when scrolling through social media. This is a reminder that no matter what you may see, you’re seeing what that person wants you to see. You don’t know the whole story, nor the struggles one might be going through.
“The picture we paint and the story within us can sometimes be dramatically different. Our minds can play tricks on us in an effort to be strong and keep moving along with life.”
I’m writing this for myself, my friends, my family, each and everyone of you reading this who offered messages of love and support. Those who continuously checked in with me, and gave me hugs I could’ve melted in. Those who sent positive thoughts on the regular, even though at the time I didn’t know I was lying to myself in thinking I was getting better. Thank you to all of you. It didn’t go un-noticed or un appreciated.
It all began with a burst
In an effort to be strong, for myself and my mother, I didn’t allow myself to feel. You can call it denial, or the fact that I had come out of an intensive 30 day meditation training just a couple of days before, but my emotions were neutralised. Of course I cried, I felt sad. But I was still in the managing phase of my emotions.
Little by little, that started unraveling at the seams. Just a small tug was all it took for it to come undone. It wasn’t until I got the phone call about my grandmother’s passing that the pain of loosing my father truly sunk in. Somehow, it all made everything feel so real. Loss and grief were something I had never considered in my reality. Yet suddenly, I was surrounded by it.
Gradually, my “I’m fines” started to resound a little less credible, even to my own mouth. The mornings became harder to wake up to. I forced myself into distraction, but my excitement for work, people or anything at all was superficial. Everything felt like a light veil over much heavier material trying to surface.
“Gentle Reminder :
You can be positive, happy, and grateful and still have not so good days, awful or off days.
Yes to thinking good thoughts, but also yes to feeling your feelings. You don’t have to pretend — and you don’t have to be perfect.”
Wonder Woman please, but hold the wonder.
I was at a contradiction within myself. Who was I to feel sad? I had so much to be grateful for, so many things going on in my life, I couldn’t feeI sorry or bad for myself. I had to keep going, show that everything was okay. That I was strong and getting through it, because I’ve always been the girl to smile — not cry and stop the world with my tears. I was wonder woman, dammit, I had to keep going. I wasn’t the sad girl, suddenly bursting into tears or calling on people because she was having a bad day. “Just get some perspective and keep going” I would tell myself, only I didn’t see that said perspective was grossly blurred by my so-called desire to be strong, or at least, appear that way. I failed to let myself feel the pain or the struggle, because my ego didn’t want to let me crumble.
A series of events unfolded during this time that made me question the universe’s plan for me and if I had done something terribly bad in a past life. Without going into too many details, I had also lost a friend within my partner and I’s close friend circle, had had a significant amount of money stolen from me from a former employer, as well as a string of small miss-haps that just seemed to never end.
In hindsight, I see all of these signs as a detour in a different direction. Somehow I kept failing to see the signs to slow down.
When I got the call about my grandmother, I was alone in my house, and just about two steps away from crazy. It was the metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back.
And so I did the only thing that felt even remotely right at the time, and booked a ticket to Bali.
Started from the bottom…
The crazy thing about Bali is that it has the spiritual capacity to serve you your ass on a platter and give you exactly the lessons you need at the exact intended time. It is incredibly healing as it is challenging. Naturally, as soon as I got there, the island of gods decided I had a little more digging to do before the healing commenced.
“Three days into my trip, at 4 a.m in the morning, I woke up from a dream with a pain in my chest. It was more of a spiritual pain then a physical one, if that makes sense, but all I could do was cry. And cry. And cry. For 5 hours”
It wasn’t until a friend — bless her because she knows who she is and I’m forever grateful she showed up for me — found me curled up on the couch, that I started talking. About loss, grief, and missing the human beings I loved so much. I talked about feeling lost, tired, and absolutely f*cking clueless at how to move forward.
It left me feeling raw, exposed and vulnerable. Like someone had sandpapered at my soul for the whole world to see. So I let it happen. For a little while, I didn’t feel the need to put on my girl-next-door smile and say I was okay. I told it like it was. Oddly enough, it gave me a greater sense of balance. In fact ironically, it was liberating, and made me feel more then okay.
The good thing about hitting bottom, though, as you may know or have experienced yourself, is that the only way to go is up. In that morning, I stopped fighting myself, I stopped feeling like I constantly needed to achieve or keep moving forward. I just stopped, full stop.
I gave myself the time to heal. I didn’t need to know how, I just knew that I had to say it like it was.
… now we a little bit above the bottom, but we stronger everyday
For the next ten days, all I did was self care. Lucky for me Bali is the best place to do that. I hung out with friends, went to endless spas and massages, got back into yoga and surfing if and on the days I felt like it. I didn’t feel guilty when I laughed, nor did I feel embarrassed about being sad. I was alone when I wanted to be alone, and called my mom everyday. I was no longer at odds with my emotions, or concerned about pleasing others, and just let things be.
I’m so grateful for the girls that were there for me. To listen or just be around. I’m grateful for the space they allowed me to sit in and the quiet person I sometimes was around them. They all had their own struggles, which they shared freely. The truth is we all have something we’re facing at any given time, and it’s in understanding that no matter the struggles, they are all just as real and important to go through.
In saying all of this, I hope it inspires you to seek out support from your friends and family, more then what you would care to admit to yourself. Never underestimate the power of talking to others. We are social creatures who depend on human connection. It is not weak to ask for support, just as you would provide a lending ear to a friend in need.
Gradually, things slowly started to look up, and while I wasn’t at a 100%, and quite honestly am not yet, I felt, and still feel, myself getting back up there. Wounds take time to heal, and even as I write this article (which I have been writing and re writing for the past 3 weeks since I got back) I’m reminded patience is key, some things can’t be rushed, and that there’s always tomorrow. Grief is a strange thing, and however you deal with it is your way, there’s isn’t a right or wrong, so just be yourself about it.
“ I understand what it is to be in pain and not want to show it to the world. I understand being afraid of pain itself and ignoring it completely. So I hope that in some way, for someone, this little window into my life helps someone know that they can feel what they need to feel, but also tell other people and lean on friends and family in an honest, genuine way. Being vulnerable is not a weakness. ”
A small word on Rituals
Most importantly, I started a morning ritual, one that helps me align for the day. I have stuck to it every day since.It may change as time goes on, but for now, it’s proven to have help with a new found sense of inspiration. I’ll break it down below, you’re welcome to pick and choose a few for yourself.
Morning Rituals :
I meditate for 20 mins. Sometimes even longer. I set a timer on my phone, close my eyes and breath.
I write in a gratitude journal. Freely, as long or as little as I want. I write thank you notes for the smallest things, and the greatest things. I say thank you to things that haven’t happened yet, and I write down affirmations of who and what I want to become. These help me stay on the positive track.
I take the time to read, educate myself, and spend less time on social media. Instagram first thing in the morning is physically and emotionally draining. Although It’s a hard habit to kick, I try (time and time again) to minimise my time of it without feeling like I’m restricting myself (it is part of my work and a community I love to share with after all).
Balance. Sometimes that means doing only one of these three things and leaving room for whatever things are happening in the morning. Be it a swim with a friend or my partner Scotty, a breakfast with a friend I haven’t seen in a while, or an early roadtrip for a day adventure.
For my Mamie Nicole, and my dad, Andrew. I love and miss them, every day. I carry them with me, always, and am slowly coming to understand that In honouring their amazing lives, I must carry on with my own.