Grief

I haven’t published a word on my blog since March. Too many times this year, I’ve written drafts of essays about the ups and downs I’ve experienced during the roller coaster that has been this season, yet as suddenly as I’m inspired to write a subject, the roller coaster takes off again, and I leave the subject behind for another one.

The subject of this post is a little heavy, but it has been a constant for me along the 2020 roller coaster tracks. It’s also, in my opinion, too important to not talk about, because it represents so much of our collective reality this year.

So, here goes.

Just this month (October), I started making moves to potentially run a group trip to Baja this coming March (2021) (not to mention another one to Ecuador in February). The idea excited me, the work made me feel like I was back in the saddle, I could already feel the sand between my toes and imagine falling asleep in a tent under the stars with my kayak nearby. After all, Mexico is open and we could actually pull this off. 

Then after some hard (like, actually painful) thinking and some good conversations about it with my mom and my best friend, we all agreed that leading a group trip right now (or even in the pretty near future) still isn’t a hell yes idea in this current landscape (for all the same reasons I postponed my September Croatia trip). 

Externally, I don’t need convincing. I understand completely. I mean, hello pandemic. Internally lies the problem. I want to go. I know how to plan trips. This type of work feels good and I miss it, desperately.

And that’s when my best friend (a former wildland firefighter and one of the wisest people I know) gave me this gift of an analogy: If you ever see the person in charge of the fire out digging lines, you know something is wrong. When we are overwhelmed with big scary things, we revert to what we know. It’s almost a sure sign we aren’t doing what actually needs to be done to move forward.

I know very well how to organize and lead group trips, so in the midst of my overwhelm of pivoting my efforts, it’s my version of digging fire lines. It’s the thing I keep reaching for, even though I know, in my gut, that this isn’t the right time.

Traveling independently is one thing, but being responsible for an entire group is quite another. I also know in my gut what project I need to be working on right now (more on that at the end), but I keep getting distracted with digging lines.

That’s when she said: Give this season of travel up, let it go.

And that’s precisely when I burst into tears.

This is grief.

I know grief because I once made the decision to exit a marriage and take a step forward alone. I had spent a lot of years of my life invested in a person, in a relationship, in a dream, also in a beautiful rescue dog, all of which I left behind in the very same painful moment. 

Gone. 

Grief started to stretch its legs across the freshly empty expanse inside me.

It took me two years of traveling solo across the world and a whole lot of work on myself before I finally was able to send Grief packing and fill the Empty and become whole, with myself, by myself, and learn how to set myself free from the Shame, the Guilt, the Confusion, ALL of it.

That’s when I truly started living my dream life. I was on a roll, business was growing, and I pinched myself every time I thought about what I wanted in life and realized I already had so much of it…

Enter COVID.

When the world shut down, so did all of the income streams in my business that I have spent the past 7 years dedicated to and absolutely invested in building. 

ALL of them. In the same painful moment.

First, I had to keep myself together enough to handle the logistics of cancelling a group trip to Italy and refunding my participants.

Next, I discovered the energy to pivot my plan of hosting a retreat in Italy to hosting it online, and it worked, and it was beyond amazing, but… pulling it off took everything out of me.

Then, in June, I crashed.

I started to recognize a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a while: Empty.

And along with it, Grief.

It wasn’t just the business and income I’d lost, although, hello, that is absolutely significant. More important to me, however, is the very reason I built my business around travel in the first place.

About ten years into my jet-setting, language-learning, backpacking lifestyle, it had become quite clear that I wasn’t slowing down any time soon. And because I started traveling long-term when I was just 18, I haven’t even existed as an adult without travel as a major part of my life. 

I have traveled to 54 countries, lived in 7 of them, studied 5 foreign languages including 4 study abroad programs, founded 2 travel blogs, started 1 travel podcast, and led 7 international group trips with amazing people from my community. Next month I’ll be 36, which means I’ll have spent exactly half my life on this earth traveling a shit ton.

I have found every way to make travel happen in my life, even when I was completely broke. Travel has been my priority because it is part of the Me that I created. It is part of who I have built myself to be without the influence of anyone else. I own it. It’s mine. I travel. 

What I don’t do is stay home for 7 months and 20 days in a row. 

Until now.

Grief is…

Grief is missing the part of me that LIVES to travel, that comes alive in adventure. Grief is acknowledging what I have built and what has so quickly been taken away from me. Grief is truly recognizing how far I’ve come. Grief is turning my eyes skyward and bursting into tears at the sight of a plane. Grief is another cancelled trip.

Grief is giving up a part of my existence that I don’t want to live without. Right now, grief is my truth and my reality.

For you, grief may look like having lost a loved one, or not getting to go to your normal yoga studio, or not having day care, or not being able to visit your family, or not having regular human touch (oh, the things we used to take for granted…). My guess is if you are reading this, you are also deeply missing travel, and I see you on that, and I am sending you a hug right now.

There is a heavy, collective grief for what we used to call “normal,” regardless of whether that normal was healthy for this planet or not, it’s what we built our lives around. And the grief for having lost it comes in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes it feels unbearable. And that’s why we burst into tears in the middle of the street in the sunshine on a Tuesday.

There is something else about Grief, though. 

Grief is part of the way forward.

Grief is how we fully acknowledge what something means to us. 

Grief is a worthy place, a natural place. It is pure. It is human. It is healthy. It is also a feeling, a passing emotion, not a defining characteristic. Even if it sticks around longer than we want — it, too, shall pass. 

On the other side of grief, there is life; there is energy; there is light.

Out of the ashes rises the new, but we cannot fully arrive to the new until we allow ourselves to fully process the lost. It is worth taking the time to acknowledge grief, not push it aside or try to hurry past it.

No matter what may eventually come back around, this season of loss will remain part of our story. Grief will be a big part of this year for a lot of people, myself included. And that is okay.

So, let those tears flow when they show up, and don’t apologize for them. Honor the experience of acknowledging what you have lost. It’s a huge part of who you are and it is worth your time and energy to watch it go, to sit in the pain of it, even though it hurts.

Someday, our joy is going to be magnified because of these very moments of hurt.

And I know what that feels like, too.

Okay. Now what?

Since I so enjoy sharing the Practical, I will offer you two things that have helped me this summer and might help you get past your grief (or to help you pivot if you are fortunate enough to not be suffering from grief). They won’t resonate with you unless or until you’re ready for them, take your time.

The first one comes thanks to a good friend of mine. 

1. Get ready, your mission is a mega shift of mindset, should you choose to accept.

A friend shared with me an idea of “forget the silver linings.” When adversity hits, many of us, myself included, naturally seek out silver linings. We are always successful — silver linings are everywhere once you choose to see them. In fact, that’s the subject of one of the posts I never published this year.

As a general optimist, this strategy confused me. Why not look for the silver linings? 

He explained: The act of looking for silver linings comes from a place of acceptance or acknowledgment that something has, in fact, gone wrong.

An interesting truth...

Here’s where the magic happens: Instead of looking at the pandemic (or any situation) as if something has gone wrong and everything is FUBARed and we must find the silver linings to survive, we can challenge ourselves to look at it as if the universe knows exactly what she is doing and this was meant to happen for the greater good of everything and everyone, including you. 

I know, it’s a lot to swallow, but if you can do it…

Our perspective then becomes: This is all working for good, this is all set up for my good, how can I best align with these new circumstances and move through them with intention rather than reluctance or even acceptance?

For my part, giving up international travel this season is something I’m still fighting internally. I don’t know if I can do it. But I do know that I want to make responsible, hell yes decisions, and right now my only hell yes for the near future is a project that does not depend on travel at all, which means it’s not actually based in hope, it’s based in reality. 

In fact, this project aligns my gifts quite well with this new normal, I was just too busy looking for silver linings and hoping for change and digging fire lines to allow myself to see it.

It’s amazing how stepping into alignment, which creates internal peace, can help diminish grief.

2. Get you some people who elevate you. 

Surround yourself with people who make you come alive; make you laugh; spark your energy; inspire you; rock your world, AND can rein you in for your own good when you need it.

These people don’t even have to be physically present, nor do you need to know them personally. Maybe they write a blog or host a podcast or have an Instagram account that never ceases to speak right to you. Identify them, talk to them or consume their content often. Let them share their soul-inspiring presence with you.

While you’re at it, remove yourself from people who drag you down. Ain’t nobody got time for that, especially in 2020.

Moving Forward

This new normal has challenged us all in many ways. While some people have loved it and thrived during this season, for others it has inflicted grief, imposed change, turned lives and business and families and economies upside down, and left a lot of us feeling quite unsettled at the exact moment that we are expected to stay put.

It has led many of us outside to dig fire lines because we aren’t sure what else to do and we are grasping for anything comfortable. However, what worked comfortably in the past isn’t necessarily going to help us move forward now. 

Grief is the time and place to acknowledge what everything past and lost has meant to us; honor that as worthy work. Then, we need to find the Courage to put one foot in front of the other and move through this new normal with an intention that makes us feel alive again. 

And this is going to look different for everyone. Let’s not unnecessarily compare our grief. Each of our paths and timelines are our own, and what we are capable of carrying and how we carry it is part of our own unique story. Let’s instead support each other through what is a hard/weird time for everyone.

Show up for yourself.

The only thing you are responsible for is showing up for yourself.

Honor your losses and take care of yourself first (hello self-care), otherwise no one (especially not you) will get to bask in the best of you. Only when your self-care needs are met can you then take baby steps in the direction of what feels (in your gut) like the next right thing to do. From there, you will eventually find the momentum that will carry you out of your grief, or at least away from digging lines when you could be making a bigger impact elsewhere.

If you don’t know how to show up for yourself, it’s worth everything you are and will ever be to learn. Showing up for myself was my only option as I traveled the world solo for years post-divorce, it is the hardest and most worthy work I’ve ever undertaken in my entire life. I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t think I could do it, but I did.

Also – one more thing you CAN do right now to help you get past any potential funk – take yourself on a little trip. SPLURGE on yourself. Even if it’s only somewhere in your backyard, even if you have to go alone (especially if you get to go alone – just take your favorite podcaster with you! 😉 ), get out and GO travel somewhere. If you are anything like me when it comes to travel, this will spark something inside you.

Be safe and take care of yourself! Reach out to someone if you need help with that. Reach out to ME if you don’t know who else to talk to.