Grief-blogging on a Friday Night
Not to be confused with grief-mogging. JK. What is that even?
My body becomes so aware when I am speaking out of turn. When, I am getting ahead of myself a little bit. I was quite excitable and energetic today because I got to have a real, full nap. I had the most energy in the room even though it was almost 1AM for me. I am aware that my curiosity, drive, and even spirit is “not for everyone”. And that’s okay.
I wrote the above after one of the online workshops I attended after my last work call finished at 11:30pm. I was late as a result. A part of me felt too tired to show up at all. It’s my first full week working the two jobs (I now thankfully have), and in spite of napping and sleeping as much as I can, I could feel my body yearn for rest and silence. But, because I was given a free ride “scholarship” for the workshop, I wanted to challenge myself to show up in spite of the difficulties and resistance.
This was a space of ideas with fellow-learners. I wanted to show up for them. As a former flake, it was always easier for me to choose myself and disappear or choose what I want instead of what might be for the greater good and the good of the community, or even just one other person. I put myself first because I had it in my head that I was the only one who cared about me. Last night I chose community and I note that it has been my default of late, to think bigger and wider, than to just narrow in on what makes me, and only me feel good. I’m very happy I joined the session, even if I was a little late. I actually wrote something substantive on LinkedIn as a result. And that makes me feel good. Writing hasn’t felt easy or natural in the last few months. I’m trying to get around that by reading.
As mentioned, Ursula K. Le Guin’s essay-blog collection is inspiring me to focus and gather my thoughts and concentrate on one topic. Tonight, pre-amble and pleasantries aside, I am restless because there’s so much to say and write about grief.
Where do I even begin? Do I begin with the fact that in order to look for tissues a few minutes ago, I had to open the door to my storage and then remove piles of clothes, only to place them on top of another pile of clothes, just to look for a stack of tissues. They weren’t even where I thought they were. They were safely in the closet because I had dreaded about a future where I was piling clothes on top of piles of clothes in order to look for them. I had forgotten that I planned for this moment.
“In every ending, there is a passage”
I have put everything away so I can focus on grief. I grieve this job that I’ve held onto for the last 6, almost 7 years. It was my dream job. I put my heart and soul to get this and make it happen. This is the shift.
I even, whilst puttering around my studio, found the journal entry I wrote when I was in the final interview stages and when I REALLY WANTED IT (yes all caps)!!! It was sweet to see my enthusiasm before the job and how I also kindly, left room for my soul to also imagine the alternative: What if I didn’t get it?
I am much more conscious about my energy input and output. I value myself and recognize what I bring to the table. I had been giving so much to a lot to people and companies that may have recognized my skill, but not the way I like to work and be valued. It was to the point where out of desperation for a job and security, I’d just stick to something even though I knew from the jump that they didn’t trust me completely (which affects how I work), so then I would begin work with a seed of doubt in myself and what I brought to the table. And that bit of doubt is a seed that gets planted and then grows into a painful, thorny plant if it continues to grow unnoticed. I don’t want to do that anymore. There’s no need to cling and to grasp and to fit in spaces where I am not welcome and am worse, invisible. And that’s where I’ll end this.