Chasm Dweller

Dear Tia -

About three months ago my dad died after a brief bout with cancer.

Aside from the grief of losing him which is a story in itself, when he died he was fully involved in a variety of complex businesses as both an owner and a partner.

In order to deal with the businesses and help my 85 year old mom, who is struggling with all facets of this sad event, I quit my job and moved 200 miles from home.

The business transitions will take about a year to sort through. Not every day is filled with meetings, which leaves lots of time to grieve, exercise, read, and putter with my mom.

I recognize we are in a new-normal but I feel like I have lost my true north. I don’t know what I want to do now or in the future, I live moment by moment trying to get the best out of it and get done what needs to be done. The business has it's own cycle of forward movement, and it happens to be intense and quite grueling work.

Being 200 miles away from my home and life-partner, friends, connections, and routines makes me feel out of sorts. I know this situation is temporary, and I do go back to my home regularly, yet I feel like there is no familiar ground. I do not have any idea what I’ll do when this gets sorted out. Nothing is calling right now, and in the midst of grief and being skilled about anything in my father's business and having to sort it out day by day, I feel as if I am in the middle of the chasm -- I am not here or there. I'm uncertain about returning to my previous career even when future circumstances might allow.

How do I find myself in this swirling mess? Or, do you believe at some point I will simply know, and I must be patient and loving with myself until that time arises?

Love,

Chasm Dweller

-----------------------------------------

Dear Chasm Dweller,

Grief distorts everything. You have lost a beloved parent, and are awash in the experience of goodbye. And maybe you are considering some of the existential questions; What is death? Spirit? Soul? What is this shifting of form?

This experience ushers you out of the everyday, out of routine, out of being in your relationships in the expected way. You are changed.

Being fully present with the changes is the journey you don’t want to miss. Coax meaning out of this time, accept unexpected drops of insight. All of it comes laced with grief and the unknown and hard work and exhaustion, yes, but there are also gems.

I think you have an inkling of this already: The only way out is through.

How extensive is this unknown path? How dark and lonely? That’s the mystery, Chasm, that’s what nobody can answer for you. Being fully immersed in it is your only work.

How marvelous that you get to be with your 85 year old mom during this time, that you’re able to leave your job and partner and routine and respond fully to this experience of goodbye. Do you feel the marvel in it?

You say, “I’ve lost my true north” describing what it feels like to be entirely disoriented. Everything has changed. How do you find your footing again? How do you re-balance yourself in this new world?

You are wise, Chasm. Your last paragraph answers your own questions. You already know what you need to know. I think the only missing ingredient is trust. Do you trust what you know?

You say, “Do you believe at some point I will simply know, and I must be patient and loving with myself until that time arises?”

My answer to this question is a gigantic YES.

Meanwhile you will be puttering with your mom, and reading, and cooking and organizing and imagining, and something will arise within you, from this chasm place, and you will reorient.

I don’t know exactly how or when this moment will arise, but I am certain it will. I invite you to borrow all the certainty you need from me until you have found and harvested your own. In times of grief and profound change, your community of support is there to offer you what you need, on loan. I’m honored to be a part of that community.

As you walk with your grief, notice what comes forward. Keep your eyes open with a soft focus. Don’t pressure yourself to know or understand or grasp answers. Be in this chasm space with your mom and share it with others through writing, poems, calls or long walks. Create ritual so that your movements and meals and daily activities allow room for meaning, and connection. To spirit. To self. To each other. The chasm, as scary as it sounds, is also a gift. Share it with others, let it impact you and your circle of friends.

This particular experience will never come again. It’s painful and beautiful. Being with your mom during this time is poignant, yes? Let it all in. You don’t have to know what you will do later. And at some point down the road, you will know. You just will, because eventually life will call you toward something and it will feel powerful and inviting and important. And you’ll move toward it.

Be in the chasm until it spits you out.

With love,

Tia