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Loki (l), Galen (top), Leela (r)
Loki and Leela are the two 90-pound, female German Shepherd dogs who faithfully watch over my friend Kathleen and the newest member of her fur family, Galen—a British Blue cat. This year I had the great good fortune to spend Christmas Eve and morning with this happy bunch and, because I had wrapped the dog presents with stuffed toys partially exposed, we opened our gifts on Christmas Eve.
It is a rare treat to exchange gifts with a friend's pets. They are exuberantly appreciative of both wrappings and presents, and they are often quite thoughtful in their own gift choices. When Kathleen asked Galen what he wanted to give me this year, he reportedly communicated, "I am her gift"—which proved to be true. He spent the entire evening snoozing in my lap, purring contentedly, working his little kitty magic on my sense of well being and contentment.
Loki and Leela went a more traditional route, selecting a lovely orange mug. What so warmed my heart was the slogan printed on the side. It perfectly captures the girls' interests and values: "Life Is Good: Do what you like and like what you do." (Be sure to visit the Life Is Good website that offers all kinds of cool stuff.)
As I find myself in a new phase of the grieving process, I can't think of a better motto than this to adopt for 2012. Because it really is the way I feel. Increasingly, I notice that my pervading sense about life is one of joy, not sadness. I wake up full of gratitude for the incredible journey of growth and healing that has been my experience of the past couple of years.
I have worked very hard at learning from grief—allowing it to take me into dark places of sorrow, often encouraging myself to go deeper into the meaning of loss so that I might gain insight that I could then share with others. And that process has worked, as grief has led me to a remarkable awareness of love and spiritual presence that I had never before experienced.
I know the path of exploring loss, grief and meaning will continue. And, yet, it's not going to be quite the same in 2012, because my focus is no longer so intensely on the end of life, but on the fully-lived middle of life. I lost my husband at 59 years old. While I am no longer young, I am also most definitely not yet old. There is life to be lived and, as Loki and Leela have so eloquently reminded me: Life Is Good. It's okay to do what you like and like what you do.
Loss of a loved one seems to carry with it a lot of obligations and expectations. Part of that burden is cultural; part is personal. But wherever the "shoulds" originate, I think working through all of those "things we gotta do" is one of the most difficult aspects of coming out of grief.
Come Back to the Sunshine of Life
And I do feel that we are meant to eventually come back out into the sunshine of life. I know many people don't. That knowledge will certainly keep me engaged in this work of trying to understand grief—so that others may heal. Much remains to be learned. But for now, I can say with confidence that really "working your grief" and allowing it to work on you is one very powerful way through to the other side of sorrow.
So, 2012 promises to be a year of exciting exploration. And probably more loss. The continuous cycle of birth and growth and death and grief is what makes up the great Wheel of Life that the ancients knew so well and that we moderns do our very best to ignore and avoid.
But I am committed to being fully present with whatever arises this year. And, whenever I learn something, I promise to share it here, in my books and other website writings at www.TheLightProcess.com/blog and www.ABeautifulDeath.net/blog.
Thanks to Psychology Today for this opportunity to write and to everyone who has so graciously read and shared these musings of my heart. I cherish the opportunity for conversation and look forward to hearing from more of you in the New Year. And I hope you can take Loki and Leela's holiday message to heart.
