How to Cope When Tragedy Happens

Hi friends! I hope you are doing well. I apologize for the bit of a hiatus. I only write when inspiration strikes, which is probably not advisable if you want people to read your blog, but "I'm a peacock, you gotta let me fly!" (Quick! Name that movie!)

When I say that, I mean that I probably won't always post consistently and it just is what it is. I've given myself permission to not be perfect or adhere to a schedule, and I'm happy to give you the permission to just be as well.

Onto the heavy topic of today's blog... How do we cope when the world appears to have one tragedy after another? Today, I'm thinking of the Covenant School shooting. And whenever I do, I am bereft. I know what it is to lose a child. I don't know what it is to send your baby to school, and expect to pick them up that evening, and instead have to identify their bodies by their shoes or clothes that night. I hope that I never know what that feels like. I hope that change is coming.

Tomorrow, I could be referencing something else tragic from around the world. The reality is we live on a planet that is rife with sadness and cruelty and hatred and bigotry and anger and violence. We *know* this to be true. And yet, how do we manage to take care of our fears and hold our grief when there is a never-ending train of trauma to consume? I propose that there are steps to increasing our resilience while also giving space for our sadness.

The first step would be to limit your news consumption to one (1) source (radio, TV, print, etc.). I would argue that the media's job is not to increase your knowledge on a subject, but to arouse your ire. Anger and fear have a purpose, but do you want the media to be telling you what to think or who to be afraid of? The solution is to reduce your consumption to one category, and then find three sources within that category from three differing political views on the spectrum. This gives you a more balanced view of the situation. This also requires more work, and more critical thinking, which is on the decline.

The second step would be to hold your emotions in ways that are meaningful to you. We don't often allow emotions to 'complete the cycle' in our fast paced society, which is why we are an anxious nation. For me, I listen to music when I am sad or angry, and give myself room to express during the length of the song whatever I am feeling. Allowing my body to complete the feelings cycle then gives me the fortitude to keep going, and reduces the likelihood of a nasty rebound of negative feelings later on in the form of nightmares or panic attacks. Once I've allowed myself time to feel whatever I need to, I dust myself off after a song or two, and move into the third step.

Thirdly, it would behoove all of us to find ways to take action. Grief without purpose is stagnant and painful. Anger without action turns to rage. Search for groups to work with (grassroots organizations, lobbying groups, volunteer organizations, etc.) and give of your time and energy. Allow your feelings to be your motivation. Press forward for all the people who cannot. Call your congress members. Write your state legislators. Find peace in pushing, moving, acting.

Finally, recognize that while we do live in a harsh world with absolutely horrific problems, we also reside in a world where a toddler can stop and stare at a ladybug on a flower. Our planet contains the grandeur of the Grand Canyon, the mystical beauty of the Taj Mahal, and has the Northern Lights dancing across the night sky. If you're living in a country not torn apart by war, in a shelter with a roof over your head, and beauty and rest are available to you when you need them, then things are not entirely dire. If you can look out your window, and see the horizon clearly with the sunshine piercing through, then the world is and can still be good. If you have the freedom to dance, sing, chant, and pray, then this life is still good, even with tragedy lurking in the darkness. This planet needs good people working in their unique corner of the universe to bring about that which is true, beautiful and good. Those people are you, dear readers.

Know that I am thinking of you all in these times. I pray that you recognize the beauty in your life, and are able to hold your fears and pad your soul when these events happen. It is my belief that most people are doing the best they can with what they have, so let us be gentle with each other in our discourses online or in person. We never know what someone else is going through.

Take care of yourself and those you love,

Woman, Take Up Space

Woman,

take up

s p a c e.

Thunderous, thick, abundant thighs and soft belly.

Buttons that gape, oversized shirts so no one sees

A roll when sitting down, in too-tight jeans.

Furrows between brows, creases and sun-spotted hands.

Silver threads in dark hair.

Woman,

take up

s p a c e.

Loud laughter with snorts sprinkled in.

Desperate, quiet tears at night, alone.

Ecstasy washing over you when dancing, loving, singing, swaying.

Unrepentant joy and slivers of sorrow, mixed together.

Hungry to be seen, heard and valued, just as you are.

Woman,

take up

s p a c e.

'Bossy' becomes you.

'Sassy' transforms into bold.

'Aggressive?' You? No.

You're occupying a world that wants you to play small,

to be visible, young, and beautiful,

yet silent, still, and sad.

Woman,

take up

s p a c e.

For women all over the world

Who cannot speak.

Who cannot love.

Who cannot leave.

Who cannot march.

Woman,

take up

s p a c e.

-Megan Secrest

Holding onto Junk (Literal and Metaphorical)

Photo by Christian Fickinger on Unsplash

Hi friends! Sometimes, I wonder what to write about, and sometimes, something happens to smack me in the face with just the right amount of inspiration. I hope you can appreciate my small journey to getting rid of junk and moving into the future, unburdened by the past.

The event that sparked this post: packing up old baby clothes. For many who know me, I have had an interesting/sad/joyous/complicated journey to motherhood: my first child was born with a fatal birth defect and was stillborn, then I had three miscarriages and finally got pregnant with my daughter and had her almost three years ago. Since then, we have discussed growing our family but have had trouble making that happen for a variety of reasons. How does going through old baby clothes relate to my motherhood journey? For a long time, I told myself that I was 'saving' our daughter's baby clothes for the next baby. And then the next baby didn't come. And didn't come. And didn't come. As of the publishing of this post, a positive pregnancy test has still not arrived in my life. Here's the kicker: it may never happen for us again. That is a real possibility.

When I opened the closet door in the old nursery, tiny onesies, old boxes and a car seat basically came tumbling out. It seemed an apt metaphor for my waiting/grieving process. My soul felt clogged up with the grief of losing children, the unrealized dream of having siblings for our daughter, and the resentment of not being able to have a baby "easily" like other people (although, I know that having babies "easily" comes with its own set of challenges). I wanted to hold onto junk (literally some it of was junk-think stained bibs and old diaper boxes), because I was struggling with letting go of the future I had planned in my head. When I was a teenager, I told people I wanted six (6!) children when I grew up and got married. And here's the weird part, that dream has basically happened, but it doesn't look anything like what I had pictured 15+ years ago. I have five children, four of whom are in Heaven, and only one child Earthside. Holding onto old baby clothes/gear isn't going to make that reality any different, and it won't make the sadness sting any less.

So, how does this relate to you? Well, if you're a 'normal' American, I can guarantee you are holding onto stuff. Our garages are packed full, our closets are stuffed to the brim, and we may have 1-2 junk drawers in our kitchen that we can't even open because of all the crap inside. You've probably inherited things from family members, and you've wondered if you 'should' get rid of family heirlooms. If you're like me, maybe you're ready to finally let go of some of that junk, both literal and metaphorical, and move forward. Maybe it's time to go through a closet, and finally get rid of the clothes you keep telling yourself you're going to "lose 20 pounds and then fit into," because looking at them just makes you feel bad about your body. Maybe it's time to rifle through your filing system and throw away old cards and mementos, because the memories are still in your heart, even if the paper isn't crammed into your filing cabinet. Maybe it's time to scan in old pictures and create a digital keepsake album, because the photos getting bent at the bottom of a drawer doesn't show how much you love them. Maybe you need to look through your home and decide if any of the furniture isn't actually your style or doesn't fit your life.

Here's the four step process to getting rid of junk (both physically and spiritually/emotionally):

1. Pull it all out. Take a deep breath. Dive in.

2. Give yourself space to feel whatever emotions you need to, as you go through old things. You can cry, laugh, grit your teeth, etc.

3. Put the stuff into two piles: trash and donate.

4. Then gather the trash pile up, and take it immediately to the dumpster. Put the donations in your car and drive to the thrift store immediately and give it away. Don't hold onto it. It's not part of your journey anymore.

Get rid of the junk. You deserve a future that is bright, and joy-filled, even if you had originally pictured something different. You deserve to be free, and holding onto heavy baggage ain't gonna be the way you get there. I'm rooting for you, even if you cry the whole time you go through things. I cried, too, on a Sunday afternoon, holding a watermelon onesie, and then I put it in the donation bag and gave it away. I am better for it, and you will be too!

Take care of yourself,