Reflection

I’ve been in reflection mode.  Can you relate?  My thoughts reflect my wellness journey through relationships - with myself and loved ones, including those now gone.  I’ve cried, smiled, and pondered.

The reflecting started with post-retreat blues, missing the nourishment that comes from leading and witnessing along with connecting on a deep gratifying level with other women.

A week’s vacation with my husband followed the retreat.  We explored the artsy area of Taos, the vast land once occupied by the Pueblos in Mesa Verde National Park, and the funky town of Ouray, Colorado nestled in a bowl of Swiss-like mountains that took my breath away.     

Within days of coming home, a family wedding called me to Cape Cod, where I was able to connect with my two children, together for the first time in a year.  Wedding weekend was beautiful, yet I left with a heavy heart. There were loads of Massey’s but no Smiths (my maiden name).  With my parents gone, no siblings and children returning to their own lives, sadness and grief settled in.  For a bit I found comfort in food.  Even a wellness coach slips.  Ice cream, cape cod potato chips and crunchy parmesan chips became a staple in the kitchen.  Odd combination, right? But true.

Oh, and my birthday arrived in September reminding me of my aging body, combined with missing my parents, left me wondering about the limited time I have left on this beautiful Earth.

 So, I nested at home. I cleaned, rearranged, and purged. In the words of Gloria Steinem, “Home is a symbol of the self.  Caring for home is caring for oneself.”  I got curious with my thoughts. I didn’t push them away or deny them.  Instead, I honored the sadness and sought the gift.  I found refuge in nesting.

 According to Ayurveda, seasonal changes can create imbalance.  Stillness, nature, friends, and an Ayurvedic fall cleanse helped me usher in balance and clarity. I soon released the need to have ice cream and chips.  I balanced the joy of having happy and independent adult children, with the sadness of letting go.  I put grieving my parents into perspective, knowing the greater the attachment the greater the love.

Here's what I know. Sometimes getting off track moves you forward. It’s all a dance.