Activating Your Watcher and a view of Life after Loss.

“Activating your Watcher” is an exercise from the book, Second Firsts by Christina Rasmussen.  In the book, Christina refers to your “Watcher” or that part of yourself that is watching your process.  In psychology, we often refer to this concept as your “observing ego”, or your “Wise Mind”.  Your wise mind is essential for being able to watch and observe your thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and the events in your life.  In Dialectical Behavioral Therapy, wise mind is the integration of rational mind and emotional mind.  Using wise mind, you can make connections between your thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and events.   Through awareness of these patterns, you can begin to make adaptive changes so you can create a “life worth living”.  Mindful awareness nurtures Wise Mind.

So what is mindfulness?  Mindfulness is observing, describing, attending to your mind without judgment.  It doesn’t mean that your mind doesn’t wander; but for example, if you are doing a meditation that asks that you focus your attention on your breath, you become mindful when you notice your focus begin to drift  and then re-direct focus back without judgment (so without thinking to yourself, “God, I’m such a shit because I can’t keep focusing on my breath”).  So just to clarify, sometimes people hear the word “mindfulness” and they think it means “meditation”.

There are several types of meditations:  breath, mantra, progress relaxation, guided imagery, etc.. Many types asked you to concentrate,  You are being asked to focus on  breath, body part, phrase, or the particular imagery.  You use mindfulness to bring your mind back to the particular focus when your mind wanders.

So, In Chapter 3 of Second Firsts, “Life Re-entry – stage 1”, you are asked to mindfully take a look at your current life and how it differs from your life before loss.  For example, What did you used to do that you are no longer doing?  and What is different about you and those around you?

For me, my life before loss seems so long ago.  I feel like my losses have aged me beyond my years.  When I look back at those early years of our marriage, it feels like we were kids, even though we were in our 30’s.  Some of things that are different are that we don’t “party” much now.  And I don’t just mean drinking alcohol (although neither of us do much of this at all now).  We did lose a lot of friends with our multiple losses.  After my first miscarriage, like my first heart attack, our living room was filled with casseroles, flowers, cards, and visitors.  But as I guess it is to be expected, by the time you are on your third miscarriage, and your fourth heart surgery..people just get too tired to hang in there.  I joked to my husband that when I finally had bypass surgery in 2010, one small dish garden arrived from my mother-in-law, bless her heart.  But I really have to say that there were an incredible few that have stuck by me through everything, and for whom I am forever grateful.

So some of what’s different:  less parties and socializing; a closer knit small support network; less optimism, more depression; I don’t make long term plans;  it feels like we’ve aged more than our chronological years; I stopped dancing and going to the gym and took up yoga instead; less money- I lost a lot of work time, racked up a lot of bills from being in and out of the hospital, and cardiac rehab, and I had to change jobs; I used to be really into “my career” and would go to conferences, facilitate more workshops, speak at events – now I work and come home; I used to pay more attention to my hygiene, wear makeup, get my nails done sometimes; now I rarely shower; I spend more time on the computer; my family fell apart when my mom passed away during this time- she truly held us together at least for holidays- now it’s “every man for him/herself”; A couple things that have changed in a positive direction:  my marriage has come through this stage stronger; and there are times when I can truly connect with spirit and have a profound sense of gratitude for simple things when I am rested, and not overwhelmed; I found a wonderful support network on-line that I recently got connected to.

Grief Cleanse Part V

Hello Grief?  Can you come out tonight to talk?

Yes, I’m here; Where else would I be?

I was half hoping, you wouldn’t answer.

Well, I’m still here, you won’t be able to get rid of me by doing “exercises” from a little book.

Like I said, I was half hoping.  Half hoping that this shit was working.  That if I do the exercises in the book that I would feel better.  I would have some room, space to create a new life.  And, actually, there have been a few days when I’ve felt a little bit..free; a little bit free to begin to stretch my mind, and begin to think differently; begin to think that sometimes things may work out.

I appreciate that you have been letting me out a bit.  But you will not be “getting rid of me” anytime soon.  The losses you’ve incurred happened, and they have had a profound effect upon your life.  Let me let you in on a few things.. First:  I don’t enjoy weighing you down.  I don’t have these devious plans to ruin you and leave you lobotomized.  I don’t receive any pleasure in this process.  1.    I just, “am”.  I’m a complex set of feelings:  sadness, fear, and anger.  If you need to break me down, then these are my major components.  Sure, there are many other words to describe these main feelings, and sometimes a few choice expletives help to emphasize the intensity level of the pain.  2.  The trauma of the past is over.  And you survived.  3.  The “grief cleanse” is just an exercise to begin to look honestly at what you’re been hiding from for the past couple years.  4.  Sometimes people need a few years when having been through multiple losses in a relatively short period of time; A few years, in the “waiting room” – to use the phrase from the book, Second Firsts.  5.  You have been strengthening your ego by being able to “get shit done”, while putting me away.  That process was valuable because it bred courage and resilience.  6.  However, it splits you in two, and continues to break your heart.  When you consciously face me, and you begin to process these complex feelings (i.e. grief), you do have space, energy, time to begin to create your new life.

 

Last night, I was enjoying the Olympic ice dancing and watching this prompted me to begin reviewing past Olympic performances; first reading and watching about the Usova/Gritchuk/Platov/Zhulin love triangle years…(What an intriguing soap opera that produced fierce rivalries, and wonderful performances!).  This led to watching several performances of my favorite pair skaters, Ekaterina Gordeeva and Sergei Grinkov.  They were exceptional and won gold medals in pair skating in two Olympics – I believe it was 1988 and 1994.  In between that time, they got married, had a beautiful daughter, and continued to give figure skating some of the most incredible performances ever seen.  “G and G” as they were known were a beloved couple.  They shared their love of sport, and their love for each other in their skating.  In November, 1995, Sergei, suddenly died of a heart attack during a practice session on the ice in Lake Placid, NY.  Gordeeva, his widow, along with an all-star cast, skated a tribute in his honor titled “Celebration of a Life” in February 1996, which was later televised.  Thanks to “youtube”, I was able to watch much of this tribute.  Watching Gordeeva’s skate in memory of her husband moved me to tears and reminded how incredibly fragile live can be.   It was such a poignant story – their love, their passion, his untimely death, and her courage to begin again; starting a solo skating career.  Initially she looked so small and fragile without Sergei, but she got stronger each year and a few years later, she created a new life with a new family.  It’s truly an inspirational story; that allowed me to feel some of my own complex feelings related to my heart attacks and losses.

Working my way through my anxious feelings related to cheating death on several occasions, I begin to feel this underlying theme of gratitude.  Gratitude is something I can count on to shift and transform negativity toward appreciation and love.  I am grateful that I am here today.  I am grateful for my health, my loving relationship with my husband, my wonderful friends, my home, job, …many, many things.

That’s what this “grief cleanse” is doing for me…allowing me to work through some long held pain to get to a better place.  I can see where I seem to have a bit more of the psychic space available when I attend to my “stuff”.  I can breathe slower, deeper, more consistently; and dare I say..I can begin to feel calm and peaceful.

Grief Cleanse – Part IV

And on the fourth day, there were tears… I guess that’s what happens when you continue to knock upon “Grief’s door”.  Hot streaming tears that kept coming and the more they did, the more I felt my heart chakra close up even tighter.  I thought crying would “clear the channel” so to speak, but nope, in an attempt to shield against more loss, pain, and disappointment, I felt that part of my body tighten up even more.  I read somewhere that sometimes this sort of thing happens.  The fear of risking future loss keeps you trapped in the “waiting room” – the place between lives; the life you had before the loss (es), and the new life after loss.  After what feels like hours of sobbing, I finally stop.  I didn’t think I would.  But I did stop.

The dam broke, and finally my heart did soften.

I know that my thoughts are not productive at times.  I recite the litany of losses..Suffering multiple losses for several years in a row, I reinforce how these experiences have obliterated my faith in the future.  Heart attacks, miscarriages, my mother’s death, my father’s decline.. and ongoing financial/job/career struggle..it is just too much.  I feel like giving up, but have no idea what that means.  I know this happens, I know I do this…I fall into my own trap of the infinite loop of loss, reciting the events to myself, remembering the times I kept getting up, trying again, truly using all the resources at my disposal, only to be knocked down once again.  I want to step outside of this whole thing.  I wish I could rewind the clock and start again. Many days,  I don’t know how I will ever get over not being able to become a mother.  Losing my mother,  my babies,  my ability to carry a pregnancy because of my heart condition.   Losing my health, and coming so close to death on several occasions; I try to find meaning in this whole “journey”.   When I was younger, I spent years trying to repair and heal my heart, and get out of the  loop of “stents, and cracks, and heart attacks, bypass surgery.  I couldn’t think about adopting when I honestly didn’t think that I would live long.  I didn’t think it would be fair to do this at the time.  And now the years have gone by, and my past has aged me, made me weary, and depressed.  It’s not a consideration now.  I have to let go of this.  It’s so hard to do.  I feel cheated.  The unfairness is appalling to me; but life isn’t fair.  I know this.  I try to accept this.  Some days I’m better at pretending than others.

That last paragraph right there…that is some of the ongoing commentary that plays along with the ever present, “Why do people have to suffer, if God is a loving and forgiving God?”  I don’t have answers.  It’s best not to go there.  I have to jump any negative cognitive loops – the litany of loss, the “why, why, why questions”, and I also have to be mindful of the negative thought spirals…the “this sucks, that sucks….everything sucks” spiral for example.  Yeh, I know the pitfalls.  I’m not dumb.  I’m not dumb.  I’m not dumb.

I’m depressed.  I want to scream this sometimes.  I feel sensitive.  Everything hurts.  Criticism, joking around, small talk..ouch!  It all bites.

But…eventually with the tears… my heart did soften for a bit.  A small reprieve.  I think to myself, I have to remember this.  Allowing myself to move through this stuff, all the way to the other side of it, helps me to feel some relief.

The “Intervention”..

I think I mentioned the whole..difficulty with showering thing.. you know, “even the water hurts”… Well on the tearful day, two of my work friends confronted me about needing to “step it up” in the self care department.  F..U..C..K.. Really? My immediate reaction…defensive, and irritated; then I just wanted to fall on the floor and give up right there… “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to even keep going?”, I want to scream.  But I was able to really see that you know, they were right.. I’ve never been quite so neglectful of my own hygiene.  I want to roll around in my own shit, and be buried in it.  Many days I don’t have the strength to get up… and yet, I do.  Because I do.  So, I begrudgingly make a pact to get my ass in gear in the mornings.  Step one.  Talk about getting “Back to Basics”.  I swear I have to come to terms with the fact, that if it is truly time to start moving forward again, then I have to recognize that my new life is not going to be like my old life.  I have been changed over time, with the events, circumstances, and experiences that have occurred the past several years.  

I get home after this day of tears and confrontation, to have my husband also jump on the bandwagon.. well, look it, he says, “I wasn’t sure how to say this but I’m glad it was brought up today… apparently he also has been noticing my disheveled appearance lately, my closet emptied cause all my clothes are lying in piles on the floor;  He says he will help me to “get moving” in the mornings.  Part of me wants to kick his ass, and the other part feels like “I get it”.  I can at least begin to do this with regularity…personal hygiene.  It’s time to step outside the comfort zone of bit; get out of the sweats, and get clean.  Step one.  That’s where I am today.  Fuck.

Grief Cleanse – part III

Grief, Will you come out to speak?

Grief:  I am here with you.  I saw you watching Martha Graham’s dance, “Lamentation”, and I said, “Yes, Yes, Yes”; She – (you, Frances) is allowing herself to feel the sorrow and anguish.   I’m glad that you watched the piece tonight because in that piece, Martha is grief.  She is.. Me.  The feeling communicated through that dance is me.  I know that you know this.  I’m angst ridden, I spin my wheels, I push against boundaries, I make it hard for you to contain yourself.  I want to jump out of your skin.  I want to be set free, but by my very nature, I get no ultimate release.  There is no catharsis.  I’m screaming muffled screams.  I want you to stop what you are doing, stop acting like you have it all together, stop it.  I want you to pay attention to me.  You were tired today.   I know I had kept you up last night.  I wanted you to stay home with me today.  I needed the day.  A personal grief day.  But of course you didn’t, couldn’t, whatever your excuse is; I didn’t get my way…my time and space, and so I jumped on your back, and made you carry me around all day while I put my feet up.  I know that sometimes you “get it”.  That you have to listen to me, validate me.  Haven’t we already gone over this?  But you keep saying, we have to do this, and this, and this.  Just one more thing, one more phone call, meeting, group, report.  I make you tired.  I know you say you want it to be easier, but then you keep up your bullshit.  And yes, Frances, you have a lot of bullshit, even though you often accuse everyone else of being full of it.  

Here’s tip:  Learn to say no more often.  No maybe bullshit either.  “NO!”, Get it?!  NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.  Say it loud and proud, Frances and quit wasting your time and energy on bullshit.  You’ve got pretty damn good radar now, and so anytime you can’t say a definite and enthusiastic “Yes!” to something; then it’s a “No!”.

What’s the one thing you want people to know about your losses today?

Grief:  That I need breaks.  That I’m taking care of myself by saying no.  That it’s not personal.

(photograph from google images)