Grief: Part 1 (About My Grief)
For those of you who follow me on Instagram, then you know, my Dad died unexpectedly in August 2022.
So much has changed for me since then. I had to slow down and focus my energy and time carefully. So I stopped writing blog posts, and in many ways I slowed my efforts in “work” in general. My heart and my body needed more of my time and attention, and some things had to give in order to support my changing needs. Which is a natural shift that our western systems do not support— more on that later.
My initial response was a heavy Freeze response. I felt immobilized. Like I couldn’t move. I couldn’t call people back. I couldn’t think of tomorrow. I could only just hold still. Luckily with Somatic Experiencing™, I was able to shift the stuck-ness. I moved through the horror, confusion, anger, shock, and I landed on grief.
Grief.
Grief is a right of passage— a journey that we all embark on. And it doesn’t end, it just walks with us, like a companion. I’ve known grief before Dad died. Actually as a queer person to homophobic parents, I’ve known this loss of the greatest kind for more of my life than I haven’t. What I’ve learned, is how to honor my grief. Stories of “getting over,” and “moving on,” and other minimizing ideas around grief now sound completely disillusioned. I am waking up to our societal resistance to grief. At the time of Dad’s death, I was working per diem at Kaiser Permanente. They offer 2 days of bereavement leave— unpaid. Meaning, they expect their employees to come right back to work 2 days after such a loss. And we call this healthcare? It was so clear that I needed to once and for all, remove myself from the broken system of healthcare.
Grief and the pelvis.
Grounding while grieving takes intention. Grounding includes sensing into both my internal and external landscape.
What feelings are with me today? What’s here that needs my attention? How’s my water intake? How’s my sleep? Hows my nervous system navigating this?
In order to really tune in to myself as my body/mind/spirit processes that my Dad is no longer earthside, I have had to really acknowledge the areas in my life where my boundaries are built on quicksand.
What policies in my practice do I still hesitate or feel insecure in reinforcing? How do I want to spend my time? How do I want to make money for my expertise? What happens inside myself when someone pushes back on my boundaries?
This is the pelvic connection. When I step out of myself, when I abandon my wants and needs, in order to protect “the connection,” then my pelvis feels and experiences my internal betrayal to Self. My pelvic muscles tighten up which has given me hemorrhoids (boooo!) The self love I need in order to survive this time in my life needs to be RADICAL.
I can only treat 4 clients a day, and I need to charge enough for this to be sustainable. I need nature. I need connection with people who truly love and value me. I need my “No,” to be enough without excessive explanation.
Interesting thing about navigating death and dying, is how much of a daily reminder my body needs that I am alive and worthy of love. My body, My pelvis need to hear from me multiple times a day— that I am alive and here and loved.
If you have continued to work with me during this stage in my evolution— THANK YOU. Thank you for trusting me to take care of myself and my grief enough to be able to take care of you. Thank you for valuing my skills/expertise. Thank you for being seen by me, as well as for seeing me. Thank you for not comparing our suffering (this goes in the useless category along with “get over it,” “move on,” and “time heals.”) I believe in what I offer not just as a human to humanity, but also as a healer.
To Little Grace: I have your back— forever and always. I cherish you and deeply love you.
To Present Grace writing this post: I believe in you. I trust you. I can’t wait to see you continue to live and feel/experience your aliveness. Your grief is welcome to stay so unclench your butthole, and instead plant your feet lovebug.
To Dad: Your fear for me never helped me, in fact it hurt me. You don’t have to be afraid for me anymore— not of where I live, of who I love, of how I identify, of how I make money, or of how I connect with Spirit. I picture you letting go of your fear and resting. And all I can tell you, is that I’m here trying to do the same— letting go of fear, and turning towards rest instead.