Ritual and Celebration
It is no doubt that the holidays are here. While I catch myself humming along to the holiday tunes, I feel a deep sense of unrest and sadness in my heart. I meditate more and use my soft-belly breath (cmbm.org) to power me through each day. My body and heart are anticipating my January visit to see my Mom who has dementia and the events that followed in the early days of 2021. Last year, upon my return from seeing Mom, my son Mason had a life-changing ski accident that left him paraplegic. I watch him now, as he leans into his own sadness and loss, as he has been for all of these months. He has become an expert in reading and navigating this new body of his but it has not been easy. He has become an expert in the science of neuroplasticity as it pertains to him. As a parent, my inclination is to sweep away his pain and loss but as a trained counselor and mind-body medicine practitioner, I know I cannot do this. His pain and loss are his own and he will make his way through it as it is his own hero’s journey. He is wise and he knows this in his heart.
So many of my friends this year are suffering losses beyond our own. Beautiful lives have been lost this year in a way that feels like no other year. We recognize the weight of the pandemic, continued social justice inequities, and the heaviness that falls upon the health care workers that we know and love. As a sensing individual, whose Gallup (CliftonStrengths) top five themes are all relationship-building themes, I must be mindful and temper how much I lean into the losses around us. I need to be steadfast in my self-care routine as I have never before.
At the same time, sitting in the loss and sadness and honoring our new selves that have emerged from them is part of life’s work. We must know pain to know joy.
I marvel at my son Mason and my daughter Sydney. They are both such wise souls that have traversed so many challenges at young ages. They both teach me new ways of being and seeing nearly every day. Both are adept at intentionally creating their futures and choosing carefully those that surround them and what they take in.
As I watch Mason navigate the anniversary of his accident, of his new life, I wondered how we would honor the upcoming date. However, as I take my cues from him and honor the noble hero he is, I see that he is again teaching me. He is using his standing frame to work at the computer to curate videos from the past year that will celebrate his journey and express his gratitude to those that have helped him on this new path. I marvel at the fact that he recognizes the need for ritual and celebration in the face of such adversity.
May your own rituals bring you peace, hope, and light.
