Blogger Marny (photo hers too!)
Thanks to my puppy (who I call my horse – cause he isn’t little) I walk in the woods every day. It has become my meditation, my quiet time (unless of course my dog is chasing down another dog – then my peace is temporarily disturbed!)
As I walk through the woods, I find I am always looking down at the path. My eyes typically land about 3-5 ft in front of me watching for all the hazards that I could trip over. I am looking for roots, rocks, holes and uneven ground that could cause me to fall. If someone were to follow me, they would probably laugh at me as I weave my way across the path.
But even as I diligently look down watching for every threat, I still trip!
In my grief I tend to watch and stay vigilant to the dangers that could make me stumble or fall. I am aware of anniversaries, special events and any other moments that could be a trigger for me. I want to be prepared. I want to be in control. I am learning this about myself that I like to have a plan. What I am finding though is that no matter how much I prepare myself, no matter how much I look at the path ahead of me, I can’t be prepared for everything. I still trip. I still fall. I still twist my ankle and sometimes I am even tripping on the obstacles that I see coming!
And the reality of it all is that as I stay focused on the path 3-5 ft in front me I am missing the beauty that lays farther down the trail. There will always be those triggers. There will always be some moment, some event, some memory that stirs up emotions and takes me back. Just the other day my son and I had a great discussion that began from a need to Thank an old friend for their donation to the Relay for Life my son is participating in. We got talking about the friendship they had with my son’s Dad and it evolved to me sharing the details of the day Keith died (always amazes me how one innocent conversation can lead into another which ends up being the important one!) And before I knew it, I was in tears as I recounted the day that changed our lives. It was a beautiful moment between son and mother that could not have been planned or prepared and that could have never been as meaningful as this impromptu conversation was.
So as I continue to navigate through the wilderness of my grief, I remind myself that it is important to look up. Look ahead and see what is coming. And when I do that, I am amazed at the splendour that lies before me. The sights that I would have missed had I kept my eyes focused on the risks and not on the beauty of the journey.