Unexpected Allies

Unexpected Allies

 

A soggy battlefield seethed inside me. Regret waged war against reason. Apathy pitted itself against responsibility. Fragility fumed against strength. Fear cowered before courage.

 

And sorrow rained down on the fighters in a constant deluge.

 

And there was never a ceasefire; the noise of my struggle was a constant din. My son’s absence screamed at me. My loss shouted.  My doubts whispered. My guilt groaned.

 

I had to stop and grieve, yet I had to move forward and live - more conflict.

 

A peaceful settlement seems out of reach, yet I have found a few allies that propel me in that direction. Too many factors are at play in grief healing to imply that any one or two or three actions will solve it all, but this trio gives me courage to go to sleep at night and get up to fight another day. Yes, these are personal to me and my particular situation, but science will back me up here. Grieving is a whole being experience. Body, mind and soul feel the pain of loss. Attending to each part advances healing.

In the immediate aftermath of my loss, I ran. I ran the neighborhood streets, the parks, the track, the bleachers. It was my lifeline. It wasn’t a tedious item on a to-do list; it was my only way to cope. Any movement would have worked – walking and hiking have the same effect now. My experience proves what experts declare: exercise eases depression and anxiety, reduces stress, increases feelings of well-being, and provides a sense of accomplishment and control. A grieving individual often feels out of control. Running – putting one step in front of the other – is one thing that can be controlled. The sense of accomplishment after exercise gives mental and emotional strength. Increased blood flow to the brain helps foggy brains think more clearly. Prolonged movement releases endorphins that boosts the immune system and reduces negative effects of stress. Exercise causes a rise in body temperature which can have calming effects. Runners often experience a feeling of euphoria. Although that’s a stretch for one who is grieving, the physical exercise, mental boost, and emotional release prove to be extremely beneficial.

Sunshine became a life-saving companion as I ran. I discovered how I craved this element in my tumultuous life. The rays of the sun delivered nourishment to my body and encouragement to my soul. Our bodies are designed to produce the vitamin D we need from exposure to sunlight. This nutrient is necessary for the efficient function of the body’s cells and helps to absorb calcium, strengthening our skeletal infrastructure. Exposure to natural sunlight increases levels of serotonin, a neurotransmitter that controls appetite, sleep, and mood. Time spent in the sunshine delivers tiny rays of hope, lightening the burden of heaviness.

In silence I found the most surprising comrade-in-arms. The noise of my grief was deafening. At first, quiet brought a barrage of painful and disorienting thoughts; but in time, it delivered a calm to my body and spirit that no activity, kind words, or encouraging advice could induce. The practice of silence is known to lower blood pressure and adrenaline levels, bolster the immune system, and aid in hormone regulation. Confucius, Buddha, the Dalai Lama, Gandhi, and the Psalmist of the Bible all present the practice of quiet as a healthful and necessary part of a contented life. Each one of these extraordinary leaders knew great tragedy and found a crucial companion in silence.

Recognizing my three allies gave me something to hang on to during the initial stages of my grief. They continue to be havens of safety for me. Science and I firmly believe that exercise, sunshine, and quiet can be important players in the healing process.

So just a thought -

Push out the noise that can bring you low. Soak in the rays of hope and health. Sprint or stroll on your rugged journey. Take a step toward wholeness.

 

 

 

 

 

About the Author
I am a friend, teacher, wife, and mom seeking to choose joy and make a difference in each day.
I'm Grieving, Now What?