How do you process through disappointment? I get this stirring, uneasy feeling in my chest and belly and my mind tries to reject the feeling. I mentally prepare for things to the point that when they don’t go as expected, I have a hard time recovering. This one particular thing on this day is pretty harmless, an easy reschedule, but it’s an effort to remind myself of that in the moment. To think about having to go through these motions again, to build up the nerve again, to feel ready and prepared for the reschedule, is exhausting.
Instead of ditching the entire plan, I keep the parts that I know will fill my cup. I keep the parts that mean a delicious silky coffee at a tabletop bar and a breakfast sandwich that will fuel me through the morning. I choose to confidently show up as myself and not shy away from the moment because I’m alone.
As I was driving down the street to get to my destination, I got stuck in a turn only lane and ended up taking a detour to a street I was all too familiar with. My stomach tightened as I got closer, and it felt like my body was having a visceral reaction to being in its vicinity. The hospital rose tall over the street and I slowed to let pedestrians cross while my eyes scanned over to the parking lot we visited many times.
I can still see you in that room, can still feel the weight of my body on the seat in the waiting room when the surgeon told us there was nothing he could do. That you would wake up thinking something had been done and we, dad, would have to tell you that the risk was too high, that it’s still all there taking up space in your beautiful brain. I can see you ringing a bell and carrying that terrible face mask and sitting in a waiting room full of people fighting their own battles.
Sometimes grief hits when you’re driving down a street you didn’t mean to drive down on the way to a cancelled meeting. I found myself desperately speaking words of encouragement to my own heart, reminding my lungs to breathe and my mind to focus on the road.
As I sip my coffee and my heart rate slows back down, I start to feel a warmth spreading throughout my chest. The moments were painful and unexpected, and the memories came flooding in without warning but now, in this moment, I’m grateful for so many moments remembering you. I’m grateful for a morning that started with a pinkish purple sunrise, listening to some of your favorite songs, pulling your memory into the quiet moments of my day.
The reality is that most days, I just want to appear like someone who has it together. I want to look like a person who is processing their grief in a healthy way. I want to seem like someone who can drive down a street, any street, without filling with anxiety. And the truth is, I probably do. But I also want to feel seen and be understood and to do that, I have to show up more authentically. I need to stop tucking the uncomfortable feelings away and own their existence. Maybe then, I’ll get closer to truly processing through some of the emotions I carry around and they won’t feel so heavy. If this resonates with you, maybe you need to try the same.
So, here’s to unexpected inspiration from cancelled plans, healing hearts and delicious hot coffee on a chilly morning.
Until next time,
T
