Some things break our hearts but fix our vision.
“In the process of letting go, you will lose many things, but you will find yourself. ”
Some things that break our hearts fix our vision. A good friend of mine told me this recently. I think he is right. 2020 has been a year of loss. Grief. Trauma. Broken hearts.
But what have we learned? How have these experiences helped fix our vision?
I am interested to know how the things that have broken your heart, or broken you down in 2020, have helped you focus on what is truly important in your lives?
In the race to make things happen. Achieve greatness, success, and happiness, however that’s defined by you, what have you lost sight of in that process? For me, perhaps, it’s a simple fundamental thing integral to my overall well-being: Self love.
I realize that since March, I am not sure that I have even given myself permission to be sad much less be devastated by the events of 2020? The pandemic. The forest fires. The political climate. The interpersonal relationships, etc. So busy trying to be strong, positive, and resilient. I know for certain I have not allowed myself to sit with the pain.
After a joyful day of caroling in downtown Portland the other day, a close friend of mine in my COVID bubble reached out and gave me a hug. A long, embracing, impenetrable hug. I wept. I stayed in his arms and continued. To weep. A release. At last.
But then, I saw business colleagues who I didn’t want to see me crying. Taking care of myself. I quickly dried my eyes and abruptly said good-bye to my friend and to the love and affection I so very much needed in that moment.
The shame of sorrow. How dare I be sad? This time period has been excruciatingly painful for a variety of reasons, but the shame for feeling anything but grateful for all of my privileges and blessings has made it virtually impossible for me to grant myself permission to grieve. So many very real losses.
Why is that?
Am I not worthy? To grieve? To be hurt? To be torn up inside and sad? Moreover, am I not worthy of self love?
Earlier that same day, a little caroler ran up to our choir. In his exuberance to jingle his sleigh bells, he tripped and fell flat on his darling face. My first instinct was to run to him, wrap my arms around him, and soothe his hurt. But for COVID, perhaps I would have done just that.
The point is this. There was no doubt in my mind that the injured toddler deserved love. He was worthy, of love. In that moment, and beyond. He was worthy “To know the pain of too much tenderness” as Kahil Gibran penned in The Prophet.
So what is it that happens when we get older? When we decide that we need to power through all situations. When we don’t allow ourselves to just be. To be nurtured. To be held. To be coddled. First, by ourselves?
What happens where we don’t allow ourselves to “to be wounded by our own understanding of (self) love; and to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks to another day of loving.” Id.
Obviously, I don’t have all of the answers. I have a few ideas, but they aren’t for public consumption. Not yet. (My therapist and I will continue to work these things indefinitely, no doubt, and she will have a healthy retirement.) But, for each of us, these are very personal questions. I will, however, share this.
During this pandemic of times, all of us have experienced grave loss. That loss has come in a variety of forms. Mortality. Relationships. Jobs. Homes. Financial well-being. Health (both physical and mental). Some of us have experienced loss on top of loss and the pattern seems to continue like a stack of falling dominos - only this time it doesn’t feel much like winning.
My simple point is that all of our hearts have been broken on some level. And, in many cases our hearts continue to be broken during this pandemic, political climate and beyond.
But no one loss is greater than another loss. No one person’s loss trumps another. Loss is loss. Hurt is hurt. Broken hearts, broken. These are all things that we have in common. As humans. It’s the one thread that connects us. The details may vary, but I believe that at the core, all of our hearts are one, so let’s lead with that. Let’s heal together knowing that.
The more interesting question to ask yourself is this.
Through the heartbreak, how has your vision been improved?
For me, at least for today, I feel like maybe the means might justify the ends. If I come out of this on the other side more self-actualized. Wiser. More empathetic. A better friend. Lover. Just better. Maybe then, the suffering and heartbreak will have served a greater purpose. One that is truly difficult to see right now.
I think I am going to choose to focus on this during my holiday season. The blessing of “fixed vision” as a result of severe heartbreak. I am going to work on honing in on the things that matter most. The people who nurture my soul, passions, and dreams. Starting with me. I am going to let go of the rest and see what happens.
