"I feel so lost.” How many times have I felt this? So many times; just when I think I'm getting a handle on this business of Widowhood, I get hit with another period of feeling lost. I often describe it as if I'm floating with nothing to anchor me. I've noted that in these periods, I find myself trying to find some form of connection that will confirm that I am still part of the world of the living. This can be anything from reading about the grieving process, chatting with other widows/ers online or desperately pouring into my "memories" journal.
I am just on the other side of one such period. It has lasted a little longer than usual. It was a little discouraging this time because this "teacher's pet" in me thought all the right steps had be checked and double checked and was expecting an A+ for not skipping over some vital part of the "grieving process" only to find myself back at "floating". In this I feel a bit of a sense of failure because it may mean that I may not moving forward! Yup, told you, teacher's pet, overachiever, bit of a controller ...
So maybe it is time to see this differently. Maybe it is time to change my perspective, my focus. Is it time to visit my spiritual ego? I know that in these periods of "floating" I seek to be connected to those who have the same sense of awakening and it is often found in complete strangers because their pain is familiar. It cuts to my very core.
To be open and honest with my spiritual ego is a bit frightening. It is frightening to give myself permission to feel vulnerable, to truly feel these feelings of insecurity. Bill was so good at talking through these things with me. He had such a loving and gentle way to make me understand why I felt so vulnerable when faced with a new challenge and he always, always made me feel safe. So in there lies my dilemma. He is no longer here to mentor me, to support me, to make me feel safe, to love me unconditionally. All great supports for a growing spiritual ego.
I think that it is because I am now reaching down further inside myself that these periods of "floating" are more confusing. I sometimes feel like I am not doing something "right". What's wrong with me? There are days when deciding what to wear to work today is a major decision! Can you imagine being pressed to deciding a life altering decision? And yet, as we journey through our early weeks/days/months of Widowhood, the government, banking and other institutions are pressing us to make such decisions.
For the time being, I'm back to feeling somewhat grounded. I will continue to allow my grief to guide me and allow Bill's love to pour into me. It may be that I need to see these periods of "lost feeling" as periods where the spiritual me is trying to figure out between who I was and who I can now be - and that in itself is okay!
Dear BForever,
ReplyDeleteI relate to your story so strongly.
I remember, about four months into grieving, after a lot of the practical work was completed, and I felt a real sense of accomplishment and groundedness and possibility for my life. People were complimenting me on how well I was doing.
I came home one day, so proud of myself, and I wanted to walk in the door and say, "Look honey, I can do this!" and have him praise me and hug me for my "success" at widow-dom. Then it hit me- he would never be waiting for me to come home, ever again. My pride turned into a feeling of being completely lost.
And then it changes. I now go through the periods with less attachment, knowing neither the highs nor lows will last forever.
It is so helpful to know that you, an intelligent, articulate, spiritually focussed woman can also feel so lost, but are finding yourself again as the you who was there all along in the "we".
Dear Peacewalker,
ReplyDeleteIndeed, the purpose of my blog is to share these intense feelings and to let others know that they are not alone. I once wrote that I was blessed with the gift of the written gab, but little did I know that in offering to another, I would in turn receive so much back.
Thank you for your beautiful comment and for sharing. Thank you for reminding me that I am not alone.