Tag Archives: Susan Piver

#reverb13: Day Four

reverb13Today, one of my prompts for Reverb13 is up. No big surprise, it’s about grief and loss. I wrote,

This past year, we have all experienced so much loss and felt so much grief — in relationships, through sickness and death, from mental illness or abuse, because of finances, even due to the need for healthy change.

It is good to honor those shifts, to fully feel them, so that we can let go of what needs surrendered, and remember what is worthy of our love and gratitude.

What have you lost, what are you grieving?

olderdexterI can’t talk about what I’ve lost in the past year, what I’m grieving without mentioning Dexter. His cancer and eventual death was the most significant event of 2013. I emailed Kat yesterday, (she’s hosting the Reverb13 I wrote this and one other prompt for) and told her, “Almost every day, I’ve been writing about Dexter, as I reflect back on this year, and it’s helping me to honor that experience but also to let go in a way I still haven’t. I’m so grateful for this practice.”

Another big loss this year is my husband’s parents and his aunt moved. For the past five years, they were here, close to us. We’d lived here for almost seven years on our own before that and were fine, but then they came and we had someone else to call when we needed help, a built in dog sitter (one who washed dishes and did laundry when she came over), people to gather with for holidays or just a regular meal any time. We’d come home from work to a container of homemade cinnamon rolls or oatmeal cookies, and there was always someone to help Eric take a load of stuff to the dump or borrow a ladder from. We got used to it, so now being here by ourselves again feels a little lonely.

Another loss is not going to Susan Piver’s Fearlessly Creative: A Meditation and Writing Retreat at Shambhala Mountain Center (SMC) at the end of the month. The timing is just off for me this session, and even though I can do a writing and meditation retreat any time for myself at home, and I can drive up to SMC whenever I want, I am really going to miss seeing Susan again. The other grief related to her is the Open Heart Project Practitioner level didn’t end up working out. We aren’t completely disbanded or adrift, things are simply shifting, but we had just completed our 2nd virtual retreat when we got the news and it was sad.

There’s grief about other family stuff, things I don’t write about here, other people’s struggles and secrets that aren’t mine to share, but can’t be ignored, are hard to witness, generate so much suffering. I practice remembering, as Anaïs Nin suggested, “You cannot save people. You can only love them.”

When it was happening, and immediately after, there was a lot of grief around the session I had with a new doctor where she told me I was obese and tried to put me on a diet, told me to do more cardio — all this after I explained I was a dis-ordered eater and was hoping to heal that behavior.

handpocketsbyandrea

this is what obese looks like — when I look at her, all I can see is how hard she tries, all the ways she’s denied herself, how worthy she is of nothing but love (photo by Andrea Scher)

Which leads directly into my answer to the next prompt: 20/20: Hindsight is the one thing we never benefit from in the present.  Is there one moment you wish you could do over? I’m not usually one to wish for do-overs because it seems to imply regret, wanting things to be different, and if that were the case, I wouldn’t be where I am now. For example, from the visit to that doctor came the Self-Compassion Saturday project and the real healing that is happening now, something I had to do for myself. Yes, what she did was awful, but it was the catalyst for something good. Or, I could wish that I’d let Dexter go hiking that day, the one where he stayed home with me and hurt his knee chasing a squirrel in the back yard — and yet, without a hurt knee, he wouldn’t have required physical therapy, and we never would have met Dr. Lindsey Fry and the support staff at Fort Collins Veterinary Emergency Hospital. They gave both Dexter and I such good care in those final months. So, rather than wish for a do-over, I choose to accept what’s happened, to be grateful for what I can, learn what I can.

The Besottment Reverb 2013 prompt is “Did you discover a favourite song or musical artist in 2013?” I love music as much as I love books and dogs, so I can’t give just one. These are my three favorite new to me artists I discovered, my three favorite of their songs.

One eskimO, Amazing

Mary Lambert, She Keeps Me Warm

Furns, Power

Gratitude Friday

I know that yesterday, Thanksgiving in the U.S., is when most bloggers make these sort of posts, but I skipped it yesterday, because gratitude for me isn’t just one day a year, it’s a regular practice — although, as such, it was really really hard not to post yesterday.

1. Humans of New York, especially the new book, which I’ve been savoring. This morning, I was looking at one image that had the most amazing caption, “She had the most beautiful awkwardness.”

2. Food of the season, things like apple pie, sweet potatoes and roasted brussel sprouts. Although, I am still missing fresh tomatoes.

3. A clean house. We always say one of the best things about having people over is how clean the house gets in preparation. I mean, I even dusted.

4. Sleeping in. I’ve been doing a lot of that this week, and Sam has been joining me. He gets up at 4:30 like we normally do, eats breakfast, goes potty, and runs back to bed with me.

5. Support, connection, companionship, and guidance. Family, friends, my Intuitive Eating book group, the Open Heart Project — Susan Piver did a beautiful video and meditation instruction about gratitude yesterday, talked about how the best way to show gratitude is to live a really good life.

foot stool or dog bed, whatever

foot stool, dog bed, whatever

Bonus Joy: Sam. On our walk yesterday, he did the cutest thing. He was tracking squirrels and I accidentally dropped his leash. I decided to let him keep going, see how far he would get. He was so intent on following the scent trail that he didn’t realize I wasn’t holding him. We were on campus (CSU) so I trusted he wouldn’t get too far or in too much trouble. Even if he found an actual squirrel to chase, they go up a tree pretty quickly. So he went maybe 25 feet, and then stopped to check in with the humans, only to realize they were way behind him. I gave him the hands out shoulder shrug that means “what are you doing?” and he gave me the head down ears back sign for “sorry, my bad” and hurried back to us, waiting for me to pick up his leash once he got close enough.

sometimes he gets into Dexter's bed and sleeps, it breaks my heart a little every time

sometimes he gets into Dexter’s bed and sleeps, it breaks my heart a little every time

Any moment like that which reinforces that we can trust each other is so good. Underneath his reactivity, his struggle to control his impulses, his surges of adrenaline and anxiety, his sometimes too muchness, Sam is the sweetest and most gentle of dogs. As I was with Dexter when we lost Obi, I’m glad to have this brief moment of time with just him, so I can really see, know him before another dog with its own needs comes to distract me.