I never thought the day would come that a keyboard and a screen would terrify me so much. The loss of Peter in December blocked something very profound within me and I haven’t been able to write much, resulting in an agonising journey on an emotional and creative level.
When I chose to embark on my life coaching path, I immersed myself in all the learning opportunities, not just for the sake of a paper trail and certification chase, but I desperately needed something to focus on other than grief and panic over the extreme creative block. I can’t even contain it to writer’s block because it affected my photography as well. So here I am, one month after my last blog entry, attempting to overcome my demons and re-establish myself in the world of the living.
After a prolonged bout of health issues at the beginning of the year, I was catapulted into a parallel universe wherein could have renamed myself Lemony Snicket, because life became a series of unfortunate events. There are times I just lay in bed wondering what new disaster the universe had prepared for me that day, and it was deja vu back to the horrible Berlin days I thought I had put behind me. But no, there I was again, in the belly of the whale playing Jonah having an existential crisis.
While I successfully completed my Master Life Coach certification and a few others along the way, I lost a few other anchors in my life. Nothing has been going according to plan, but I have been swimming with the tide, trying my best to stay afloat, trusting that the Universe has a plan for me beyond all this. The huge project I had laid out in November was ready to be implemented when the financing went belly up, much to my horror. So there I was, suddenly robbed of my grand launch and a bit rattled from the situation I found myself in. On top of that, my trusty MacBook decided to conk out on me, calling in a retirement card. I saw this as a sign to step back and get in touch with my inner core to mull things over. In silence and solitude.
I did what I have mastered over the past 56 years, pray and meditate, in order to figure out how best to move on. Life is full of meandering pathways and our journeys are never straight and clearcut – imagine how boring that would be otherwise! In one of the many mediations, I heard a voice telling me “Don’t get hung up on the destination and don’t resist the forces of the universe.” I know this sounds like a lot of New Age mumbo jumbo, but in the good old days the question would have been “So, what’s your Plan B?”
Of course I have a Plan B, I always do, as well as a Plan C and D for good measure. Needless to say, it has been a very strange First Quarter of 2024, and it feels as though I’ve been jumping from one storm to another. On the one hand I lost people whom I considered friends but turned out to be the epitomes of betrayal. I’m too old for this shit and have no intention of chasing after people who do not have the integrity or the backbone to own up to their mistakes and faults. If they can’t stand by me during the storms then they have no place in my life during the fair weather. Angry much? You bet I am – once I got over the hurt and disappointment. On the other hand, if Peter’s death taught me anything it was that life is too short to take anything for granted. With that in mind, I have regained two very special pillars in my life whom I have missed tremendously, and suddenly my soul feels as thought it underwent a tectonic shift in the right direction.
Now I understand why I ended up living in The Shire, removed from the city life and for the most part, human interaction. I needed to be in the right place to retreat into my world of silence and listen to the voices and guides within and you can’t do that in the middle of a city. I wailed some time ago that I missed going on spiritual retreats, especially the silent retreats with the Jesuits, so the Universe said, OK, we’ll grant your wish but first you need a crisis in order to be prepared for the necessary journey of solitude.
During Lent I gave up human interaction, music, junk food and chocolates, a strange combination, but I realised that both my body and spirit needed this peculiar detox. I haven’t been down to Lisbon since before Christmas when Maike was here, and my world has shrunk significantly since then. Do I miss it? Not really. Do I regret not being mobile and being able to go anywhere and everywhere when I so desire? No. Next thing I knew, I was no longer playing the loud music in the mornings like I usually did, nor did I want to binge watch something on Netflix either. I craved the blessed silence, ensconced under the blanket by the fire with a book. I suppose it also helped that the weather was so rotten due to a prolonged winter here in Portugal, that I had no desire to go stomping around in the rain. The chocolate issue I will address in another entry.
I often joke about talking only to the 15 cats that keep me company here in the Frobbit House but you know what turned out to be the most valuable lesson of these past three months? The cats ended up being my retreat masters and are effectively the perfect life coaches because they never give you any answers, just sit there with you in contemplative silence listening to the beating of your heart and waterfall of thoughts until you figure out the answer for yourself.
The journey is far from over, but every morning I chose one demon to battle or make peace with, and that keeps me going.
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