As someone who is prone to extreme anxiety and muscle tension, it’s no surprise that I have been carrying a great deal of tension in my body since my husband’s passing. Body scan meditations have been incredibly helpful because they allow me to notice where I am holding tension.
Still, I am facing some strong feelings of resistance. Despite the rational part of my brain knowing it is not possible, a big part of my mind is still fighting for my husband to be alive. It is only during body scans that I can feel my resistance in the form of muscle tension and feel a bit of a release as the practice progresses.
After ten months, you would think the letting go would get easier. In a way, I suppose it has. In yet another way, I know I’m not ready to let go at all.
This month, in particular, will be a tough one. My wedding anniversary is coming up in just a couple days. My husband’s birthday is next week. Without him, these celebratory moments become piercing moments of devastation.
It’s strange how confusing it all is, how difficult to know someone is gone and yet to want them back so badly. It defies all logic, and yet it is human nature. We become attached to people and, when we lose them, it’s as if we’ve lost a part of ourselves.
Knowing that letting go is such an important part of the practice is difficult to embrace. But I know I can’t keep hanging on to the desire for my husband to still be alive. It’s not healthy, and it prevents me from living the rest of my own life.
So, I try to move forward in the best way I know how, by meditating and practicing yoga and continuing to notice the ever-evolving stages of grief. Perhaps one day I will truly accept that my husband is gone, but right now–I just need to make it through this month.
Wishing love and bunniness for all, despite my heavy heart.
7 thoughts on “Loving, Losing, and Learning To Let Go”
I wish I could offer something more helpful, but I can only suggest filling those days with all the good friends you can muster. My daughter lost her mom a few years ago and we discovered were alike in that friends and outings help on those particular anniversaries. The first year, according to her, is the hardest. I can believe that.
I’m sorry the only other thing I can offer is condolences and some understanding from a stranger. Friends will def be a lot more helpful. 🙂
Thanks so much for the kind words and suggestions. I will do my best to take your advice, and I definitely hope it is the case that the first year is the worst. Condolences from strangers are gratefully accepted–thank you.
Sending big hugs as you face this difficult time. You are brave to share so freely. You inspire me. My words are little things, but hopefully the sum of little things will bring some comfort.
Thank you. I am glad my story has resonated with you, and I appreciate the words of comfort.
Krista, I just read this post, and followed the link back to your heartbreaking post of last September, and I’m saddened and very sorry for your loss. Your words have been a spark of joy for so many people, including me, and I wish I could reflect some of that back to you. I imagine it’s been a hard several months for you. My condolences and best wishes to you.
Knowing my words have brought some joy does indeed help, so I truly appreciate that you took the time to let me know. Thank you.
PS I tried to comment earlier and it didn’t work. My apologies if you got repeated comments from me.