Medley #14: how to love me through grief – a month late post

My maternal grandmother Belina Nyamoita Aruya died on August 26th, 2022. She was 107 years old. It was not unexpected. I posted a picture of her shortly after she had transitioned and got a slew of condolences and well wishes. They were much appreciated. 

My grandmother. I can hear her laugh in this photo

Several people reached out to me via text to offer condolences. The ones I connected to the most were those that went straight to the point. “I saw your post…can I (specific thing) for you/your family?” 

The ones I struggle with the most are those that put the onus on me “Please tell me what I can do” or “let me know how I can help.” 

I recognize the intention behind these statements and know they are sincere. However, the last thing I need is another thing on the checklist. There were so many decisions we had to make so quickly (who was going to travel from the States to Kenya, when would the burial be, etc) that I think I’m still working on a deficit regarding decision-making. I am tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. 

The literal last thing I need is to add to a list of decisions to make. If you love me and want to support me, figure out what you are able to do, offer that and I’ll appreciate it. 

Please stop demanding even more of my mental space which is a premium. Emotions are on a hair trigger. Small talk is forbidden – DO NOT ASK IF I’M OKAY. I AM NOT. Grief is like that…it’s complicated.

Medley #13: What is meaningful?

“What do you need to do by the end of the year to make this year meaningful?” This was the prompt I pulled from my Wordsmith deck today. I was struggling to figure out what to write about as it’s been a full summer. This was coincidentally something I think about almost daily. Why? It’s the first task of living. 

Christine Longaker’s book Facing Death and Finding Hope goes in-depth about the tasks of the living to prepare for a peaceful dying. They are: 

1. Find meaning in your life
2. Heal your relationships
3. Find meaning in suffering and ways to transcend suffering 
4. Build a personal relationship with death
5. Make preparations for death

Photo by Breakingpic on Pexels.com

As usual, the tasks that require continuous submission to are the ones that I struggle with most. When I look at this list, My strengths are inverted. I’ve made preparations for death. I have a binder that has all my important documents with instructions on how to use them. There’s also a digital file that mirrors the physical one. I’m not in a hurry to leave but babyyyyy I am prepared. 

My work as a death doula and nurse continues to help me build a personal relationship with death. My WeCroak app reminds me 5x a day that I will die. When I make decisions, one of the first questions I ask myself is: if I die tomorrow, would I regret making time for this thing? Whatever that thing might be. SO you could say that death and I are chummy. 

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I really don’t like being on the struggle bus. I don’t feel like it’s the only way I can build character. What’s helped me work with suffering is acceptance. This doesn’t mean that I like what’s happening, I just accept that it is happening. If I can do something about it, I do. If I can’t, I sit with it uncomfortably until it passes. 

There are people in my life that I love and care for so much that I just can’t remain close to. When I read that I had to heal my relationships I thought it meant I had to reconcile. To me, it means to make peace with how the relationships in your life are. If you’re unsatisfied then by all means do something to change them. Pangs of nostalgia will hit me once in a while but I know and remain firm that at this time, it’s safest to love from a distance. 

Photo by Disha Sheta on Pexels.com

At the end of every month, I look at my calendar and see how my values are reflected. This is a practice I have to be intentional about because my default happens to be looking ahead, not behind. This reflection makes me see if I am investing time in what makes my life meaningful. 

What do you think about the tasks for the living? Are you up for the challenge? Sound off in the comments. Thank you for your time and attention.

Medley #12: Lessons from a tiny house in the woods.

I rented a tiny house in the woods a couple of weeks ago. I felt the deep need to be away in silence. Alone. I had bargained with myself about how it could wait but the truth is, it couldn’t anymore. It had waited long enough. My therapist told me to do this exercise where I put the feeling in a chair and ask what it has to say. This is what came up.

The cabin I stayed in

1. Don’t ignore me. I won’t go away. 
2. You need stillness, you can’t keep doing and hoping for the best. 
3. Prioritize your spiritual health as much as your mental and physical health. 
4. This is a practice. You can’t master then discard it. You will always have a need for it. Make peace with this. 
5. Surrender. Always and often. 
6. Your path is uniquely yours. Even when you don’t see others needing what seems to be a need, don’t discount it. 
7. Trust your instincts. Keep cultivating this trust. This, too, is a practice. 
8. Bleed your thoughts. Let them out of your head and onto the page. This is also a practice. 
9. The lesson that requires you to learn it most often is that most things that you need in life are practices. There is no mastery. The practice is mastery.

The stack of books that I finished

Now that I’m back I’m asking myself these questions:

How can I honor this need inside me to be alone and still without it being at my wit’s end? What are some signs I should watch out for? If this emotion were to sit and talk to me, what would it say? The reality is that most of us have things we feel aren’t what “normal people” do/need/want. If it doesn’t hurt anyone else and in fact makes you feel more alive in this world, what’s the harm?  

Medley #11: A moment in the life of a death doula

I felt numb. The last time I was supposed to publish a blog post was the same week Russia invaded Ukraine. As I looked on in horror, I couldn’t publish what I had planned to. There have been many tragedies and life changes since then and I’ve conceded that there will never be a good time to ease back into it. Ironically, most of what I’ve wanted to write about is death. 

Photo by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash

I am officially certified as a death doula (this is not required, I just like learning)!! I got my first client, I’m doing this work as a volunteer (for now). I believe in making it as accessible and affordable as possible. My current client needs emotional support as he continues to live his life. He was resistant to working with me because he thought I’d force him to face his death. That’s not my job, I will meet the client wherever they are and help however I can. For this particular client, it looks like listening to music he made in his younger years and perusing his stamp collection while we chat. 

Photo by Külli Kittus on Unsplash

An unexpected thing that happened was how affected I was after those hourly visits. I would feel scrambled like my brain and body couldn’t agree on what to do next. I would go on long walks after as a way to integrate but it didn’t always work. This is yet another way we are just like plants, we can absorb each other’s energies. I reached out to my BIPOC death doula community and asked if they experienced this and what they did to deal with it. They confirmed it and gave me many suggestions. I’ve listed them below for the next time you feel drained. 

Before the interaction 

1. Sit in silence and ground yourself. Meditate, body scan, deep breathing, etc. 
2. Cover your head

After the interaction

3. Wash your hands in cold water (or a cold shower if you can stand it). 
4. Cleanse your body (smoke, salt, bath, etc)
5. Spend time in nature (or in the sun if you’re not close to nature)
6. Change & wash your clothing.
7. Nap (my fave).

I’m curious about what you’ve found that helps you get back to yourself after a draining exchange. Please leave your suggestions in the comments. Thank you for your time and attention.

Medley #10: I’m late to the party

I had an epiphany. It was around Christmas time last year when I holding my niece. I’d been with her in the early morning hours and was in a groove. It helped that she seemed to respond well to me. I was excited to be with her for the holidays. I noticed a low-level melancholic simmer and couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t dissatisfaction exactly but not contentment either. I know there’s a large swath of emotions between those two. I was wondering why I was feeling that way, you know, that imperceptible feeling in-between feelings.

Photo by Sarah G. on Unsplash

Medley #9: Unspeakable

Let’s talk about ____ baby, let’s talk about you and me! Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be. Let’s talk about _____. I know Salt-N-Pepa has a hit song that talks about sex but I will be talking about something that makes far more people uncomfortable: death. The remix here is filling those blanks with the word “death” rather than the original “sex” and seeing which one makes you squirm (more). Consider this my introduction as a future death doula. [There’s a recent article by TIME that illustrates what it is death doulas do. You can read it here. ]

Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

I’m taking an online course – although you don’t need this, you could just declare yourself a death doula and that’s that. I love learning, so I opted to go through the 13-week course. If you are confused by all this, you are not alone! I didn’t know this existed until my friend Brady sent me this article in December 2020. I will never forget that moment because I feel it unlocked some part of me that I never knew existed. 

Medley #8: FAQs Therapy Edition

My last post on therapy affirmed what I have known all along. We are yearning for deeper, richer lives than we are currently living. I’m grateful for all the people that reached out to me privately but also those who commented publicly on this post. I thought it might be helpful to post a FAQ based on the 10 comments/questions that I got most. 

Note: if you’re experiencing a crisis, call 1-800-273-8255. You can also text HOME to 741741

1. I don’t have a lot of trauma, my childhood was “fine” is therapy for me? 

Medley #7: Lessons from therapy

I’ve been going to therapy for 3.5 years and I’m on therapist #9 (not counting our couples therapist). Needless to say, I’ve had some experience with finding, vetting, trying, and quitting therapists. There are some things I’ve learned along the way that I hope you could find useful. A tiny bit of background here: I started going to therapy about a year into treatment for thyroid cancer but that’s not what drove me there. I was going to therapy to deal with the lack of response from one of my closest people. I needed to understand why they (seemingly) didn’t give a crap. I needed to know how to handle this thing that I had never experienced before. I had quit my job at that time so I didn’t exactly have disposable cash that’s when I found out about the Walk-in Center. It was free and I could give as little or as much information as I wanted and could see a therapist the same day. This was a day I felt like a pressure cooker. The therapist asked what brought me in and IMMEDIATELY I started sobbing. LOUDLY. Which brings me to…

Medley #6: To all those who feel left out

Christmas Day was my favorite day when I was growing up. We would go to church, come home, have a fantastic lunch, and hang out with family. Gifts were a welcome surprise, definitely not an expectation. It was the time my dad (who was in the USA) would send a suitcase back home (Kenya) with things for us. It was a wonderful communal celebration. 

When we got to the USA in the early 2000s, we joined in the gift exchanges which quickly evolved to secret Santa because there were too many of us to buy individual gifts for. Over the years this has devolved into not exchanging gifts because we were in different states and countries from our nuclear family. Which was just fine because I was tired of the pressure surrounding this holiday. 

In the last decade or so, I started realizing that people had different feelings towards Christmas. I started seeing that other people didn’t celebrate it or hated it. I saw people who dreaded going home for the holidays or who opted to spend it alone. I saw people who were not looking forward to it for the first time in their life because their person was dead. There would be an empty chair that had been filled the year before. 

Christmas 2020 was much welcome because it HAD to be different. It forced people to rethink traditions that they had inherited and hated but kept them going because of the “it’s what we’ve always done” narrative. I spent the day watching the Bridgerton series on Netflix while my partner spent the day with his family. It was glorious! 

On this Christmas Eve, my offering is to those who have a hard time around this season. I hope you fill your cup. 

To those who don’t feel merry or bright 
To the ones alone when they don’t want to be
To the ones surrounded by people who make them feel lonely
To those who feel the impending dread
To the ones grieving 
My heart goes out to you 

To the sick, the sick and tired 
To the afraid
To the family with an empty chair this year
To the ones that have to be in a marathon juggling families 
To the ones who will be in debt because they’re forced to buy gifts 
My wish is for comfort

To the ones that have to hide parts of themselves for safety 
To those who find themselves left out
To the ones with difficult relatives 
To the ones far from their loved ones 
To the ones who struggle with belonging 
My hope is for joy

May these words be heard

Medley #4: Contemplating life

I often ask myself what the point of a post is before I publish it. Setting intentions is a practice I learned from my friend, Mary. My intention is to share the lessons I’ve learned in hopes of reducing suffering for someone out there. Reducing suffering might be just letting someone that they are not alone in whatever they’re going through.

In alleviating my own distress this week, I have had to chant: done is better than perfect. Done is better than perfect. Quick life update Kou and I got a puppy 4 weeks ago, her name is Yuki, she’s a 3-year old potty-trained American Staffordshire terrier. She’s a bundle of energy. More happy news, my sister brought a human into this world almost 2 weeks ago, baby’s name is Kaira, and she’s precious (I’ll share pics when I get clearance). This is all to say that there’s been abundance lately.

Medley #3: Vulnerability

In the last post, I spoke about how my strength was a cage and many of you applauded my vulnerability. This time, I wanted to lean in and let you know about my relationship with vulnerability. My hands are sweating. I am nervous about being vulnerable. The first draft of this was quite superficial. I gave it to Kou to read, hoping he’ll sign off on it but he saw right through it. So he gently challenged me to make it better.

vul·ner·a·ble

/ˈvəln(ə)rəb(ə)l/

Medley #2: My strength was a cage

How many of us would like to be thought of as strong? I’m sure it’s a healthy number. Up to a certain point in my life, that was the most repeated character trait people would tell me I had. Our brains recognize patterns, so I (in hindsight) found myself unconsciously doing things that would strengthen that association with me. My strength looked like: enduring pain without showing emotion, being hyper-independent, fighting for control in as many ways as I could, not showing weakness, and so on, and so forth.