I already hear the voices of so many who push back against that thought.
A new me?
I don’t want to be a new me. I want my old life back. I want my loved one back.
I hate these changes that have and are happening.
I just want to stand still and make it all go away. Oh, please let this be a bad dream!
Sadly, it isn’t a dream and it’s so difficult to process and understand right now. It’s natural to want to hold on to what was familiar. It was your world. Now your world has changed and you are left feeling lost, confused, alone and uncertain about who you are anymore. This enormous change has affected everything in your life.
The following short narrative by Eden Alair says so much about Change.
Listen
I remember being a raven, soaring through the skies, seeing the black knife edge of each of my wings cutting into the blue of the sky. Beneath me was a small white house with a colored tile patio out back at the foot of a steep hill, a railroad-tie fence on one side and an unpaved driveway on the other. I could feel the woman inside the house, could sense the precipice she was on, but she wasn’t yet aware of the incredible change she was about to experience.
I called down to the woman “Change! Change is in the wind. Look for it and ride its flow! Do not be afraid!” And all she heard me say was “change.” The fear of change so overwhelmed her that she stopped listening. She thought I had refused to tell her more, but I think now she is beginning to understand.
I remember being a lizard, feeling the sun warming my body as I basked on a rock outside a small white house. One day as I was frolicking with my friends on the multi-colored tile patio, I could feel the woman inside the house, confused and overwhelmed.
I called out to her “Change! Change is growth. You must shed the old skin to become colorful again. Do not be afraid!” All that she heard was “change.” It made her so afraid that she stopped listening and didn’t hear the rest. She thought I was holding out, trying to make her crazy, but I think now she is beginning to understand.
I remember being a squirrel, racing along a railroad tie fence and playing in the trees outside a small white house, chattering to my friends as we collected supplies. One day as I was helping myself to a pear, I could feel the woman inside the house, sad and lonely.
I called in to her “Change! Invest in yourself. You’ll come out on the other side in spring with supplies left over from winter!” The word “change” made her so afraid she turned away from me and didn’t hear the rest. She accused me of teasing her, but I think now she’s beginning to understand.
I remember being the moon, full and bright. On a hill, behind a small white house, was a woman who greeted me often. She would stand outside in the midst of my light and drink me in, as if she could hold all of me inside herself. One day I saw her upturned face seeking out answers.
I called down to her “Change! Hold me close for I love you and change is my way!” The word “change” scared her so much that at first, she closed herself off to me and wouldn’t listen, but I think now she’s beginning to understand.
I remember being a woman; struggling to commit to a path I had mistaken for my destiny. Ravens flew overhead, lizards played on my patio, the squirrels climbed my trees and I drank in the moon as if I would never be full. One day in the midst of my struggle I heard the word “Change!” ring out through the air. It seemed to come from everywhere at once and there was nothing more than that single word. I felt afraid and alone. I didn’t know why I couldn’t hear any more than that one word, so that night I went out and asked the moon. She too spoke of change and I didn’t want to hear… but I think now I am beginning to understand.
It takes time and work to begin to understand. Lots of questions might come up inside:
- If I change, am I’m dishonoring my loved one?
- If I change, am I leaving them in the past?
- If I change, will l I forget them?
The answer to each of those questions is “No.” You honor your loved one by living your life. You will never forget them. They and those memories are such an important part of the story of your life. You will carry your loved one and those memories always.
Whatever you want, the more you want it, the more there is a kind of grief, a sickness, a hollowness in the pit of the stomach.
Whether it is the desire to see a loved one again, or to stay alive, or to die, or to be successful, or for some new shiny bauble, the very nature of such longing has a quality of grief about it.
As Stephen Levine and Ondrea Levine point out in Who Dies? An Investigation of Conscious Living and Conscious Dying, there is no security in this world of change. There is no unchanging ground on which to place our seemingly solid feet. Nothing remains the same. There is only the constant flow of changing events, of shadows flickering on the wall. And it is in the holding to such temporal things that suffering originates. Grief comes from trying to protect anything from being what it is.
In your grieving process, it is important to grieve… and to also learn to “let go.” It’s in the letting go that you become the new you who is waiting. The death of someone we love changes us. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting or even “moving on.” Letting go means letting your grief reposition so that you can continue to live the life you have now. Living means finding a changed you and your life that is redefining.
Be gentle with yourself. You are wounded and in pain. Grief doesn’t just go away. That’s why it’s called “grief work.” Your feelings are important and will guide you. If you don’t attend to them, grief will just wait for another time and surprise you. Over time and through your grief work, a new you will unfold. It takes time and work to find you again.