Tuesday, August 24, 2010


Laying on the beach

Some days we wake up in another state of mind, or one we didn't anticipate.

Today has been a rather odd day emotionally. I have felt tired, worn out, or as some may say, spaced out. It started with a headache in the morning, which a couple of cups of coffee, and some Tylenol took care of. My youngest son asked if I was okay, saying that I looked as if I had been crying. No, no tears this morning, just a headache.

Later my daughter asked if I would give her and a couple of friends a ride to an art class. I of course said yes, thinking this would be a nice diversion from the funk I am feeling. I dropped them off, came home to relax, then went back to pick them up. On my way back home I was feeling a need to cry. I don't exactly know why. I wasn't feeling sad, or even thinking about anything in particular. I got back home, put on some meditation music, and was fooling around with my computer. My older son then asked if I could drop him off at his jiu jitsu class. I said fine, and we got up to leave. He turned to me to ask if I was angry about something. No, why do you say that? I found myself feeling a bit annoyed with his question, wanting to be just fine, rather than think there were some negative feelings rising to the surface.

Once back at the house I found myself doing a whole lot of nothing. As I sat here on the couch I found myself once again fighting back tears. What the hell is going on! I shouldn't be feeling like this. I started to wonder if maybe I was just wasting my day, or just wasting my life. I know this is a bit dramatic, but when in a strange mood, strange thoughts tend to come with it. I started to rethink my evening. Perhaps I will skip my yoga class tonight. After all, I'll just go, participate, and go home without much of a conversation with anyone. Won't I just feel worse in the end?

Something tells me today is significant. Perhaps something happened on this day last year that my body is remembering. It's likely a memory tied to some heavy emotions. I'm sure if I try to trace back what was happening last year, there is a reason for these feelings. But I won't fall prey to this type of search. If the avalanche of emotions is heading my way, then there is no use in trying to prepare for it. It's like standing on a beach when someone announces that there is a massive tsunami heading our way. You can turn and run, knowing very well that you cannot out run it, or you can just lay on the beach, relax, and let it hit.

I think I will go to my class, and just see where all this takes me.


  1. Dan,
    You are just "being" rather than "doing" and that is okay. I have had the last 8 months off and I have to admit that I have had a lot of days like the one you had today. I would just lay around, walk around my house like an empty shell, move things from place to place with no ability to get things done. Emotions would rise all on their own accord and I would feel like a shadow of myself. I was in deep grief but I was also just allowing myself to "be" and to process rather than getting busy with other tasks. It feels funny/odd, it goes against our North American work ethic, it is a foreign way to go through our days, but I really do think that it is good to stop and get off the path for a while. Didn't John Lennon write a song about that? It was called, "Watching the Wheels". I encourage you to accept what comes up for you as you enter a phase of grief that is not overshadowed by working everyday. Be gentle to yourself. I hope your headache stays away and you enjoyed your yoga class.

  2. Hey Dorthea. Thanks for sharing your experience with this. Yes, my yoga class was fabulous. Can yoga be fabulous? Anyway, I left there feeling so good. And, your right. I just need to stop measuring my day, weighing it, and trying to see that it was filled to tasks accomplished. Hard to shed those work ethic mandates we give ourselves.

    Love to you. Dan

  3. Yes, a tsunami. After a couple of months of smooth waters, the past couple of days have been more turbulent here. Definitely, this has to do with what is sensed at a deeper level - the angle of light, the late summer wildflowers, the dwindling number of birds around the gardens as they leave for the south. It is bringing back memories of two years ago - the final two weeks caring for and letting go of Don. I remember both the sadness and the relief of helping him leave this world of pain.

    In the midst of these thoughts, yesterday I received an email from an online friend who is a mountain climber. He said that autumn is a good time to begin a journey - both in this world and beyond - and that there is very little that divides us. That those who have gone ahead are just scouting the way. His message came at a good time, reminding me that it will soon be time to wind things up here, pack up the van and wander wherever the road and the sunlight takes me.

  4. scouting the way - thank you, bev.

    I have been remembering/realizing lately that matt is on a journey too; it is not All About Me. What can I give him now, to ease or support his journey. How much love can I send out to what may or may not be a Void?

    And, you know the wave is coming, useless (and worse, in truth) to run. True dat.

  5. Bev, you friend shared with you a wise and helpful thought about the ongoing journey that we, and those departed, continue to move forward on. I also completely get the desire for Don to move away from this life of pain. I too prayed for Michael to move on when it was clear he was half gone, and only in discomfort.

    Megan, you really captured an interesting take on this with your realization that Matt might also benefit from your ongoing support. I too have been focused on my journey rather than Michaels.

  6. "You can turn and run, knowing very well that you cannot out run it, or you can just lay on the beach, relax, and let it hit." This speaks to where I am right now, being hit every night by waves of painful emotions, no matter how good the day has been.