Being and Doing

Do we always have choices? I think so. And I hope so.  We may not always like the ones that are available. Sometimes, of course, we may feel limited.

But even when something is thrust upon us, not by choice, we still choose our response and other related things that arise from the circumstances.  Experiencing the loss of someone close to us is very much like that. We either intentionally or subconsciously choose how we process the loss, what to do with our grief, and who we become? Though it can certainly feel like we are not in control, there are many considerations, options and paths before us. I know there is someone reading who may not believe that right now. I understand why. But, I’m here to say, it’s true. You can find your way, and my hope for you is that you will see that someday.

I see living as a choice that comes out of grief. And, of course, it’s different for everyone. Living might look like survival, especially, in the short term. But it can be more. I have experienced it myself and have witnessed others who have chosen to be more, to do more, to love more.  None of this is easy. I see each of these as risks. But absolutely they are ones that are worth taking.

I have made many choices after losing Tim that could mostly be summed up into one. I have chosen to live with my grief. It’s with me through every makeshift bridge, boulder, and fork in the trail. When I am gaining elevation and my legs are tired. My grief is there. When I ask myself, why am I doing this again? It’s not just about the hike, it’s about the grief. And the answer is because I have choices about what I do with my mind and body and heart.

I feel life pumping through me. And so I keep going. I am pretty sure Tim is happy for that and also not surprised by it. Maybe that’s why a tiny yellow bird quickly popped out of a willow shrub in front of me today while I hiked and ruminated on this very train of thought.

Tim was better at sitting still than me. I believe it is because of all the thinking he did. Sometimes he would lay on the couch and close his eyes, bring his hands together in some shape – Interlaced across his chest; In front of his face, all fingertips touching; or temple his index fingers and rest the steeple on his lips or chin. Sitting and thinking rarely lasted long for me before I would say, “let’s do something!” And Tim would say, “are you a human being or a human doing?” Not his original thought, but one that I am sure he heard from Wayne Dyer or Kurt Vonnegut who he had read on more than one occasion.

I believe that I have become pretty good at being AND doing. For me, this feels like I am living. I realize that maturity has probably helped me to get there, but I also know that grief has been a vital mentor on how to “be” and “do”. Always, imperfectly, but nonetheless, being while I am doing.

To me being is staying present with the people or within the space around me. It is being aware of how I feel and letting myself feel what I feel. It is experiencing gratitude for what is and how it became so.

And the doing for me is to actively participate in life. It is doing something physical like hiking, biking or yoga. It is doing something that will challenge my mind, like learning Japanese or relearning French. It is making and taking time with Hank and friends and family, to build and sustain relationships, and to love. It is providing service to others through my writing, grief work, consulting work, teaching yoga, or serving as a volunteer.

This is how I choose to spend my time. This is how I grieve and live. This is how I be and do.

*And on that note, I’ve been a little behind in my writing, and I am traveling to France this month for ten days. So with an added break to catch up, I’ll see you back here in November. Thank you for reading and sharing and inspiring me to keep writing.