The Changing Weather
of the Heart
Emotions. Sigh. This morning I woke up and puttered in a fog, trying to decide what Easter was . . . for me, today.
I felt numb, resistant.
I was grieving Easters of bygone days, when my girls and stepsons were hiding or finding foil-covered chocolate eggs, or roaming the woods, or singing at church. Back then, I would scramble out of bed and into my bedroom closet to quickly assemble the baskets for which I’d collected Jelly Bellies and little gold-foil Lindt chocolate bunnies . . . and of course, perky yellow Peeps.
My body holds within me those rushed, delightful, creative mornings dashing about and fixing little girls’ hair, or making up treasure-hunt clues, or packing a backpack, or baking applesauce muffins.
This was not my routine today, and it made me sad. How I wish I could go back in time, hug those kids, watch them plunge into the green paper shreds lining their Easter baskets.
It took me nearly half an hour this morning to recognize my grief.
Half an hour was pretty good, though.
In the past it has taken me sometimes a whole day to acknowledge grief, rage, sadness, frustration, fear.
I used to envy people who could power through emotional states without seeming to slow down or be affected. As I get older though, I see that no one gets through this human journey without deep emotional cost from day to day, year to year, and many of us aren’t as thick-skinned as we appear. Rather, we’ve learned to numb out.
Now I appreciate my capacity for deep feeling. It ties into my creativity and empathy. Imprisoning the emotions of body and soul only diminishes my human experience.
So I learn to weather the weather of the heart . . . knowing that my grief is an integral part of creating, writing, stretching, loving.
As a coach and teacher I love supporting the emotions of others so that they, too, can harness their power. I see this with my writing students and clients. And it happens now with my yoga peeps*, too.
When we have the freedom to feel, healing offers itself, as well as self-expression. Welcoming our feelings can be a sprint through a field where we are hunting something unexpected and sweetly wonderful. A celebration indeed.
I would love to write with you in person next weekend! Clark College main campus, Vancouver, Washington. Brilliant blossoms notwithstanding, this is the highlight of my April. Find out more or register for So You Think You Can’t Write.
*Couldn’t resist the word “peeps” again. I was tickled to hear that my grown-up girl in DC had some today!
Happy Easter to you and all your peeps, Christi.💜
Another lovely post, and all too relatable as I think about Easters of yesteryear. And a good reminder we have the power to recognize the grief and explore it that so it doesn’t “sink in.” Thank you!! 💕