Family, Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Journal

Birthday Remembrances

How do you celebrate someone no longer here? No longer to wish, no longer to tease, no longer to hear their cough while  they to talk, no longer to see, hold, hug, to make smile. No longer. Each birthday now a cruel reminder that they are not here. What do you do with that information? I recently heard a Ted talk that really did hit home. We don’t move on from grief, we move forward with it. We don’t the person like a moment gone, but part of you as someone who contributed to your life.

Yet the pain remains, and perhaps boring to the ones who don’t feel the same, but the talk says the biggest thing people say is that they can’t imagine, but the truth is, if they truly wish to make an impact, they should. They should try to imagine the loss because we will all die, and how we treat the living when near and dear ones go is how they will be treated when they have a loss.

This isn’t about right or wrong, it’s about compassion, kindness, patience, and really, really digging in deep to see the ones close to us in pain who still smile, laugh, engage, but there is a sadness tinged to it. I am truly blessed to have so much time with my aunt and Dad, but the greedy me wants more. It aches for those lost times when they were down the street, and I chose to do something else. I now wonder if they ached to spend more time with me. If I deprived them love that they deserved. So many unanswered questions, and so I sit and reflect and the pain just feels overwhelming.

And yet I also fail to seek support, to let others know the emotional pain feels suffocating. Pride? Shame? Regret? I don’t know. But as I write these words, the burden feels an ounce lighter, and maybe, just perhaps it needed to said. Happy Birthday. I love you. And I miss you.

Just Maybe that is enough. Maybe.

Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Journal

Happiness

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

It’s easy to show images of happiness. Easy to show connection on social media and amongst others, but what happens behind the door when it’s just the two of you?  Relationships are hard when each of us have our own version of what life is supposed to be like. This past week I saw many couples who are sitting across each on their phones, lost in another world.

I watched people walking the streets, scrolling away on the phone. Our lives are becoming filtered through our smart phones and I wonder what effect that has on our relationships. We no longer are bored or allowing ourself to just feel.And so I put the phone down and look around, and what I see scares me. When did life become about presenting the best version of ourselves rather than the actual messy thing it is? What will happen to connections when it’s easier to text each other rather than pick up the phone and talk about tough things.

And then I think that happiness is what we want to feel, and we can create it and it doesn’t rely on others but phones make it seem otherwise. And so I see all this happiness and I wonder if I am happy with what’s in my life. It’s not easy to process because it is so much easier to avoid and deny, but then I realize I am not  doing myself any favors. I sit here, and breathe in the life around me. And I think about what happiness means to me. It is living my vision, my purpose, to feel connected, be vulnerable and be authentic.

It is not easy, and it’s what makes happiness so elusive. And so I continue on this path of not knowing what happiness really means, but I also know that it means to be true to myself. Just some random thought I thought I’d share which, of course, many of us will read on a phone. Go figure.

Happy Monday

Food For Thought, Inpsiration, Journal

Samurai

This past weekend, I attended a workshop called Samurai Game. A dear friend enrolled me into it by explaining it would be great to do it together. I initially resisted as I have so much on my plate, and to be quite honest, my attitude was I am good. I don’t need any more transformational training. But I had committed to us doing something together and so I agreed. I did not look into the workshop nor did I want to know what it was about. My goal was to be present, and really just be with my friends.

And yet, I am back this week feeling rejuvenated, and pleased and angry and frustrated and grateful for the experience. Over and over, I go over things and how I could have been different.  And yet when I truly think about it, the workshop was a reflection of where I am in my life. It was a perfect mirror of how I show up, and although some parts discouraged me, I knew I had come a ways. And that meant progress, success, being on right path. It reminded me of what I need to continue to work on, the weaknesses, and the areas that still need improvement. The old me would see that as failure, but now I recognize it as part of my journey.

Samurai Game taught me who I am as a leader, and the path I need to go on. It also forced me to accept the consequences when I failed to be a true Samurai. I highly recommend it to anyone!