Winter Solstice

I haven’t written here for months, due to my schedule as a full-time MFA student and being a TA at UBC, so the shortest day of the year (or more accurate at the end of 2021, might be the longest night of the year) seems like a good day to write a post.

How’s everyone doing? It’s rough out there, with Omicron running wild and those of us who got vaxxed wondering if it will work to protect us after all. It’s cold, it’s dark, we’re tired, nothing is certain. And yet, from this point forward, we get just a smidge more light and hope every day as we inch toward the summer solstice.

I’ve always loved these last few days before Christmas, but this year everything feels a little harder than most years. The joy is there, but muted somehow.

Our house flooded in early October, making an already stressful fall significantly worse as we experienced constant disruptions and noise with restoration and construction for two months. A friend commented, “A flood? Sheesh. You’d think a pandemic would be enough…” which made me laugh in spite of my frustration.

Like so many of us this year, I limped to the finish line this month in my first term as a graduate student. I learned a lot, met some really cool writers, and improved my work. Those were the pluses, but the bone-deep weariness was a real issue, affecting my ability to focus by mid-November.

The amazing prof I worked with as a TA in term one routinely told our TA team, “We are all carrying more than we think we are right now. We need to be gentle with ourselves and each other, admitting when it’s too much and asking for help.” I think about this a lot.

Here we are, on the first day of winter, in a pandemic that keeps changing. I remind myself every day to hold loosely and to keep my expectations low. We plan and then we’re forced to amend those plans. We try to stay calm, to look after ourselves and others, and to extend grace because we know everyone around us is also hurting.

Soon, there will be more light. When we are exhausted, we must rest, so we have enough energy to continue on. Eat all the chocolate, my friends. Treat yourself. Carve out time to do whatever it is that makes your soul feel light and happy. We will make it through this.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!

Real Surrender

Real Surrender

I know I write a lot about acceptance, surrender, letting go of what we cannot change. This is because it’s so damn challenging for me. I think I have it under control, then something else happens to knock me off my game and I have no other choice but to practice this skill once again.

I find it hard to believe when people say they don’t struggle with acceptance. I’ve heard versions of “I just let it go” with a breezy flip of the hair and a general sense of how easy this is. Without fail, every time, I think to myself, “Bullshit.”

Real surrender over circumstances and people is hard. It’s a process, where you don’t get to skip any steps. It’s not easy for a reason. The meaning is found in the struggle. We should be wrestling with what wounds us. We have all been hurt, let down, lost, bewildered.

Real SurrenderWe can’t have it all. That’s a bold-faced lie. What we do have is choices. One after another, day in and day out, then each of these accumulated decisions determines the quality of our lives. Who we spend the bulk of our time with matters. We influence each other.

Wanting a healthy life requires courage. It doesn’t just happen, in and of itself. Our intentions determine our outcomes. We can’t simply float along, at the whim of other people’s decisions, opinions and beliefs, and think that we are in charge of our own destiny. That’s an immature, guarded and small way of life.

But stepping out, as our authentic selves, carries a price tag. You will disappoint some people, many of whom will be close to you. Grieving these lost and broken relationships will be painful. The sharp, piercing sadness will fade, but I’m a few years into it and it never goes away completely.

Especially around the holidays, when opportunities to practice letting go of expectations are all around you. We cannot control what other people say or do (or what they don’t say or don’t do). We must let go of the dream of how we want a situation to be. We just don’t have that kind of power.

I’m learning to focus on the good that has resulted from the losses I’ve sustained. If I make a list of the benefits I enjoy on a daily basis from the hard decisions I’ve made with some relationships, it ends up as a long and rich accounting. Focusing on what has been left behind only paralyzes me in grief. If I want to keep moving forward (and I do), it’s necessary to celebrate what has made my current, joyful life possible, not what or who might be absent from it.

To anyone feeling lost and bereft in these days leading up to Christmas, you are not alone. Surrender. Let go. Allow yourself to accept all that you cannot control so that you can see the good things and people in your life that you feel grateful for.

Try not to fixate on what’s gone and what may never be again. Let it run through your fingers like sand. Turn to those who are there for you – who love and accept you, exactly as you are – for they will make up your future. This is what matters; not what is gone, but what you have gained by your honest choices and what will continue to bloom in the years to come.