Kim Ann Clay

“Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work; a future. To be courageous is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences. To be courageous is to seat our feelings deeply in the body and in the world: to live up to and into the necessities of relationships that often already exist, with things we find we already care deeply about: with a person, a future, a possibility in society, or with an unknown that begs us on and always has begged us on.”

~David Whyte (poet)

 

For me sometimes change has felt scary, especially these past few years. What we thought we knew about ourselves and the world has changed. We naively thought we had control over our lives and even over ourselves. We all had plans, schedules, routines, and dreams that all changed because of forces beyond our control. The pandemic has taught us that we were never in control. And even now as we return to “normalcy”, we are all in some way walking towards an unknown future, whether we’re consciously aware of that or not. Even in the moments when we think, “we know,” we don’t really know the full story or see the whole picture, and that unknowing can be scary.

 

Change is the one constant in life.

What if we could hold the unknown and the process of change with curiosity and, even dare I say, excitement. Perhaps consider that how we hold our relationship with change can impact what is yet to come. That doesn’t mean trying to stop change, but it means embracing it and empowering yourself to move with change. Only the past chapters of our lives have been written; we don’t know what the future holds.

We can’t force change or stop it, but we can choose to courageously meet it with presence in body, mind and spirit. We can learn to see change as an exchange with life and learn to live with awareness and authenticity. Rather than anchoring ourselves and fighting against the current, let the river take you to unexpected places. When we allow this to happen, we learn more about others, the world around us, and ourselves.

It is not only the world around us that changes. We are constantly changing, shifting, and growing into new versions of ourselves. There are parts of us that are still a mystery. There are unknowns within us that we often ignore, both intentionally and unintentionally. We often shy away from the parts of us that make us feel uncomfortable, confused, dissatisfied, or unfulfilled. We can try to ignore them, but they are there and a part of our reality.

For me courage encompasses looking at those places within myself where I feel out of balance or where I am holding a painful state of mind. Courage requires slowing down and facing the side of myself that lies in the shadow. I consciously bring awareness to the places I hold discomfort. To bring awareness to where I want to change something about myself and have the courage to stay with it, breathe, trust, and let go into something not yet known. When we hold onto those hidden parts that we sometimes try to ignore, it allows us to learn more about ourselves, grow, and change with the world rather than feel disheartened by trying to stop change.

 

Leaning Into Change

Courageously walking toward change with a heartfelt commitment and dedication to a practice of turning within and staying with what’s alive and happening in the present moment. Find the courage to honor all parts of you, including the ones that are open to change.

Leaning into change can be scary, and it can be even more unnerving to do it alone. In my work, I help people explore themselves in a safe space, allowing you to navigate your life, deepen your connection to your authentic self, and opening up new possibilities within yourself and your life. I’d love to support you on this ever-changing journey and help you live your most authentic life. Contact me today.

This week marks the three-year anniversary of my Mom’s passing, and next month marks the second anniversary of my Dad’s passing. I miss my parents deeply and think of them daily. Over the past few years I have spent time spiraling in and out of grief. I have also experienced quiet moments filled with love, gratitude, and a knowing that my parents (along with all my loved ones) are forever close in my heart.

 

THE IMPORTANCE OF OTHER PEOPLE IN OUR HEALING PROCESS

Navigating grief can feel overwhelming for many people, especially given how isolated some people can become in their grieving process. This past year has made it even more challenging, as we’ve become more isolated and have had to shift the way we’ve learned to cope. Even if you are physically alone, you do not have to be emotionally isolated. 

I’ve learned through my own walk with grief how important the presence of other people are in healing and coming to a place of peace and acceptance around death and loss. We cannot grieve alone. When we are surrounded by others, it reminds us of life in the present moment, it keeps us grounded, and allows us to accept death and grief as intrinsic to being human.

 

VALUING OUR PRECIOUS HUMAN LIFE

This past year and the loss of so many lives due to Covid, as well as other causes of death, has made the notion of impermanence a reality for far too many people throughout the world who are grieving the loss of family, friends and loved ones.

Buddhist Dharma teaches us that death is certain; it is the timing of our death that is uncertain.

In Buddhism we learn about impermanence and how to meditate on death each day. In keeping death close in our awareness we learn how to value our precious human life and consider how we want to live our life. We can ask ourselves the important questions: “What do I really want today?” and “Who do I want to be today?” These questions can help us to live more in the present moment with greater awareness, kindness, and perhaps with more compassion for ourselves and others. 

 

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE ALONE IN YOUR GRIEF

When we’re grieving, sometimes we want to curl up and shut out the world. But other times, the presence and guidance of another person can help us not only accept death as a part of life, but feel better. I am here for you. I can help you navigate your loss, come to a place of acceptance, and find moments of joy. You will learn how to hold onto your loved ones who have passed not with discomfort, but with love and peace. If you need support during this healing process, reach out to me online or email me at [email protected]. 

 

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I came across David Whyte’s beautiful poem Farewell Letter last week. It feels timely as I come upon the anniversary of my parents’ passing. Whyte’s poem takes us into the heart of the dying mother, allowing us to feel her deep love for her son and to sense a kind of peace and acceptance around the ending of her life. 

 

Farewell Letter:

She wrote me a letter

after her death

and I remember

a kind of happy light

falling on the envelope

as I sat by the rose tree

on her old bench

at the back door,

so surprised by its arrival

wondering what she would say,

looking up before I could open it

and laughing to myself

in silent expectation.

Dear son,

it is time

for me

to leave you.

I am afraid

that the words

you are used

to hearing

are no longer mine

to give,

they are gone

and mingled

back in the world

where it is no longer

in my power

to be their first

original author

nor their last loving bearer.

You can hear

motherly

words of affection now

only from your own mouth

and only

when you speak them

to those

who stand

motherless

before you.

As for me I must forsake

adulthood

and be bound gladly

to a new childhood.

You must understand

this apprenticeship

demands of me

an elemental innocence

from everything

I ever held in my hands.

I know your generous soul

is well able to let me go

you will in the end

be happy to know

my God was true

and I find myself

after loving you all so long,

in the wide,

infinite mercy

of being mothered myself.

P.S. All your intuitions were true.

…

FAREWELL LETTER

in Everything is Waiting For You

Many Rivers Press ©

David Whyte

 

https://davidwhyte.com/…/everything-is-waiting-for-you

…

Carrying on this little theme and the red, indissoluble thread that connects mothers and grief:

A mother remains a mother even after they have passed away, and in many ways the conversation between mother and son, mother and daughter, if we allow it, can deepen, intensify and lead to new forms of love, long after their going. My mother had lost her own mother at just thirteen years old, and I had the strongest intuition just after she had passed, that she was returning to a childhood that had ended far too soon in the Ireland of her youth. To acknowledge a mother, but also to let her go into her own personhood, independent of the continually astonishing fact that she brought us into this world, may be one of the more difficult steps in the deepening maturity of that indissoluble bond. DW