Returning to trust, again and again

Emotions can be complex and  hit us strongly at times. But as the strong winds of an emotion overcomes us like a powerful storm, what keeps us anchored?

Yesterday at work a young teacher told me she was pregnant. In the moment, I shared her joy, but later in the day, maybe because I was tired and vulnerable, I spiraled into my memories of trying to get pregnant and the  sadness I felt over never conceiving and having children. A strong wave of grief came over me. I cried. I could hear the question: why? why does it work out for some people and not for others? But I didn’t feed the question, knowing it was not a thread I needed to pull.

Instead, I talked with a trusted colleague at the school and shared my feelings. “You’re mourning,” she said. And by her naming my experience and witnessing it, I felt some relief. Later that afternoon,  I came home and took a bike ride, inviting the fresh air, the clear sky, and the tall trees to be my spiritual companions as I rode through the park. Again, I began to feel some relief.

When my husband came home, we talked, and the compassion between us around what we had experienced together continues to be a source of healing. I really appreciate the way he doesn’t dismiss my feelings and understands the complexity and layers to it, especially for a woman. He said, “let love be the center of your life, and let everything, the joys and the sorrows, come out of that.” Such good, wise words.

That evening, even though I was tired, I went to my drawing class, and allowed my creativity to be another healing force for me, a spiritual companion, something that activates, heals, soothes, and invigorates my spirit. Again, I began to feel some relief.

During the early morning, I had a flash of the young woman again, and I smiled at her in my imagination and repeated the mantra: I trust in the way my life has unfolded. I trust in the way my life is unfolding.