Desolation and Gray Canyons of the Green River, BLM Photo

Grief can cause you to shrivel, withdraw from the world.
Instead, recognize
the space created by the pain that inhaled deep
A river flowing beyond its banks.

Because of the flood of 2010, my river widened its reach
It loves you with your pain, it accepts your craggy shores,
and washes over you with abundance.
Currents and rapids of life exhilarate and fascinate:
what could possibly be next?

I invite you to camp on my shores,
share in the ever changing power of water.
Quench your thirst for acceptance.
Shout with anger until exhaustion:
only to hear the roar of the rapid overpower your fury
then soothe you to sleep with the consistency those things bigger than you or I. 

Even if you clutch everything close to your chest, the water changes you
the sand sifts between your fingers and evaporates.
Do not expect to walk away with the pain you brought in,
instead anticipate your boulders turned to pebbles.

In the same way. I will not host a "support group".
I will not invite pain, harsh words and self sorrow.
Instead, I will accept your oblivion, your misery
and your ability to be grow.

Call out individuals and invite honest connections. 
invite the water of change into your life.
soak your shriveled, battered roots in the abundance of love.

With the power of the river behind you,
examine your own boundaries,
look above your toes.
The old valley was beautiful, it is truly something to be missed:
but damn, aren't the gentle crocuses and fawns of new life a sight to behold. 


  Welcome to Blog Hop Wednesday. Enjoy my fellow bloggers pieces below, and remember to leave me some love if what I shared today reached you in any way. 

With love and light,
Jess

Samantha of the Crazy Courage blog
Janine of One Breath At A Time
Red’s The M3 Blog
Becky’s Choosing Grace Today
Marriott of Miracles and Answers to the Prayers in the Life of Marriott Cole
Christine of Widow Island
Robin of The Fresh Widow
Tim’s Diary of a Widower
Running Forward: Abel Keogh’s Blog
Carolyn at Modern Widow’s Club
Hello Grief
Andrea of International Brotherhood of Single Mothers
Tamara of Artful Living After Loss
Jessica at Buttons to Beans
Anne – Missing Bobby: A Widow’s Journey
The Grief Toolbox

I have been graced with the opportunity to be a part of One Billion Rising Salt Lake City from the ground up. I have encouraged women and men to share their stories of why they rise. But I've been fearful to write my own story. There are so many reasons why I rise that it makes it difficult to identify just one. I've written and rewritten several posts, accounting the deep dark secrets that lie in my heart, and the cobwebbed mazes of my brain. But I am realizing that the real reason that I am moved to rise - is because I can. I have a group of friends and supporters that are stronger and more supportive than I've ever had in my life. I've always been scared of being "that girl" or labeled a feminist. Guess what? I am one. I am tired of pretending that women are treated equally in hopes of being treated equally myself - it doesn't work. I will stand up and say that it is not ok to say "you learned from that didn't you?" instead of "that was wrong, what he did to you is not acceptable and I stand by you."

We as women are called man-haters if we breed natural distrust and fear from being beaten & raped. But we are also playing the victim if we admit that infidelity, sexual assault and domestic violence has shaped our outlook on the world. This fear of judgment and constant minimization plays its own part in perpetuating the cycles. We don't get the help we need. We sit in the corner crying when the lives we want to live seem out of our reach because we can't control the demons in our own mind. So today, I'm breaking my own fear - and telling you why I will RISE!






I rise because it feels good.
I dance because it lifts my soul.
I strike because inequality exists, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not.





I will rise on February 14, 2013 because I didn't rise up homecoming night 2000 when I was assaulted by a friend's brother whom I had also trusted with my first kiss. When my PTSD from my early childhood became so strong that I didn't fight back. For years, I accepted this complacency and fear as guilt and my own personal culpability.

I will rise on February 14, 2013 because I never had the chance to kick the ass of the boyfriend I trusted to be my "first" who cheated on me and left before I spent 4 years, 2 surgeries and 5 biopsies to clear myself of the cancer he left as reciprocation for my trust and fidelity.

I will rise on February 14, 2013 because I didn't rise up when my 350 lb husband had difficulties with his mental illness, picked me up and threw me into a chair while I kicked and clawed and tried to escape. Only one of the many times I feared for my life in my own house. I will rise because I lived in the shadows for too long, believing my mother in law that this was my fault and I was culpable for every mistake he made, dollar he spent and his own life that he took.

I will rise on February 14, 2013 because my education is as good as those possessed by men. I studied as hard, read the same books, held a full time job and cared for my family to afford to pay as much as the men who graduated with me. I dare say I might have learned more from it, because I also had to learn how to work in groups that didn't want to "be 'the team with a girl'" when "I don't even LET my wife have a credit card, I just bought her a new minivan - she should be thanking me" was what I heard on the first day of my program.

I will dance on February 14, 2013 because on August 6, 2010 I learned what it meant to be in a community of women for the first time. As a widow at 25 I learned to trust, confide in and depend on other women to heal me, help me and share in my joy and sorrow. I learned friendship and the power of women. I have never met a more powerful and passionate group of women than those who have endured the loss of a spouse and still wake up to greet the new morning. 

I will RISE STRIKE and DANCE because I am a vibrant, beautiful and strong woman who isn't about ready to take any more crap and smile and say thank you. I learned that for myself - and I want to share it with women everywhere. WE DESERVE MORE. I want to change the world so my little sister, and eventually my daughters don't have to worry about what NOT to wear so as to stay safe when they go out with friends or walk home from school. Instead I will teach my brother and my sons to treat people fairly and be cognizant of the words they use, and always stand up for what they believe. And when I remarry it will be to a partner who values my safety, who respects my voice, hears my soul and loves who I am.

If you would like to be involved with One Billion Rising please go to onebillionrising.org. If you are in the Salt Lake area please connect with us at www.obrslc.blogspot.com and www.facebook.com/obrslc. We will be DANCING on the University of Utah Campus (Feb 14th noon), we will STRIKE the Ikea Draper store with a flash mob (Feb 14th 7pm) and we will RISE with a reception to fund-raise for a great cause and connect women and those who love and support them on February 15th. Please look up the information and support us. Support me. It would mean a lot. You might be surprised how it might empower you.

With love and light,
Jess

 Baby widows, trying to find humor in "deer widows weekend"
I tell you - we have dark senses of humor!

(Post Publishing Note: I wrote this over a year ago and it has had well over a thousand page views, people who, like yourself, or someone you know searched for "baby" or "young widow" please don't feel as isolated and scared as you do. You are not alone.)

I identify myself as a baby widow.
Why?
Well probably because I made up the term.
But the story is simple...

The day after I received the horrible call I sat at a computer and tried to search "whats next?"
Mr Google didn't seem to know what I meant.
I tried searching for "young widow", hoping to find direction.
Instead I was horrified -
a "young widow" is one who loses their spouse before age 50.

EXCUSE ME! I am 25! 
I turn 26 next week, 
tomorrow is our 2 year wedding anniversary, 
what do you mean 50? 
My parents aren't even 50!

What does that make me -
a baby widow?

Yes, a baby widow.

I sent a text to my cousin
(married the same day, widowed one year earlier)
What are we - baby widows?!
She replied back that she still didn't know what we were,
But she was sorry I joined her ranks
"Baby Widow" fit as well as anything else.

So who is a baby widow?
Someone whose heart was broken before it was even fully developed.
A baby widow lost her future before she had even begun to live it.
A baby widow cries about the children she never got to have,
the legacy that has been lost, the connection severed.

Mike's 27th birthday - taken by my first "baby widow sister"

Baby widows cry next to grave sites,
and onlookers carefully ask if you are visiting your parents.

Baby widows get "hit on" when they transition their wedding ring to the other hand -
young lustful men sense the opportunity and assume divorce.
But baby widows are cunning, and a little bit spiteful of innocence -
they quietly savor the shock of putting a cocky gent in his place with words like:
"dead husband", "widow" or "cemetery".
Even better if you can sneak "autopsy", "cancer", "corpse" or "suicide" in there,
but those opportunities are harder to come by.

Baby widows become crusaders.
Their youth and feelings of powerlessness revolt against the sadness
they can't allow this world to push them so far down.
They rise back up
with a vengance they fight for anything they can:
better FMLA coverage, cancer screenings, suicide prevention, MS treatment, widow's support.

They tirelessly support each other.
There is nothing more important to a baby widow -
than the well being of another baby widow.
It is why we show up with bottles of wine to "help" clean out garages.
Why we hold each other while we sob about the sale of a house.
We offer to pick up each other's kids from ballet -
because we know the betrayal of the heart that comes from one more family member not getting why we don't "have it all together yet". 

A baby widow is isolated.
Not because she necessarily wants to be,
but at an age when your friends are either partying hard, or having their second planned child
who could possibly relate?

Friends have barely begun to lose grandparents,
and a few unfortunate ones have lost parent(s)
You start identifying those friends who "get it".
Those whom you don't have to tire yourself out
by trying to put on your "public face".
Death eyes I called it.
Those who had looked death in the eyes,
and were daring to continue living. 

Baby widow hear thoughtless things:
"you're pretty, you'll be remarried soon"
"at least you didn't have kids"
"this is all for the best"
"haven't you moved on yet"

The worst is when its from your own family.
The ones who supported you and celebrated at your wedding,
now barely 3 years later, struggle to look you in the eye
as you prepare your husband's grave for its one year memorial.
They wonder why you return.
Why you wipe the dirt, leaves and snow away.
Why you swear at his parents every time you come here.
Why can't you just let it go?
When in your heart you can't let go the one thing you were supposed to do
as his wife, was to ensure he was cremated - and scattered.
You curse his family every time the snow is deep, it means they haven't visited.
The cold hard earth that they interned him in.
Now he's lonely, not free on the breath of the plateau.

My pseudo ceremony with fake fire-pit ashes, but real tears.

A baby widow fights these feelings of inadequacy
as she begins to put her life back together.
She tries to date, but finds the pedestal hard to see around. 
As is the glaring fact that she has already failed.
He died! How much worse of a wife can you find?
Who would possibly want to stand where a dead man stood.

But baby widows are nothing if not resilient.
Baby widows love as if there is nothing left in their souls.
They wake up and find the sunshine -
or put on a record and find some within their own smile that sneaks out.
Baby widows are a miraculous breed of impassioned, dedicated, beautiful souls.

They will always get back up.
They will even have the strength to give in,
to look inside,
to examine how to do it better.
They will always find a way through.

Baby widows inspire me.



PS. If you like this post - please consider following me (available to the upper left)

In general I feel like I am able to fit into normal society with typical emotional and physical reactions to life. I can at least fake it until I get home. The auto shop is one of those places that, even 2 years later, invokes complete "widow brain".

feels like the world is coming at you like this

Widow Brain (noun): The state of complete disbelief and inability to remember facts or function logically after the death of spouse. See Also: break downs at grocery store, mechanics, car pool lane and any serious/mundane decisions points. Visualization can be seen at right:








Today I took my car to my usual mechanic's office, at the entire other edge of town, so running on my lunch break wasn't the brightest idea. This is the mechanic that I used when I lived on this side of town (read: when I lived with Mike in "Our House") (also note the inherent potential for underlying anxiety at getting off the exit which used to mean "home".) In spite of all of these things, I was cocky: I figured it would be a quick "nothing big" visit. I needed an oil change and my check engine light had come on over the weekend. But since I have a 13 year old Subaru, I wasn't worried about the check engine light, it wasn't flashing the impending-doom flash, and old Subarus are notorious for ghost lights.

Via

I was lucky enough that my little brother was headed to the same mechanic's for his emission and inspection. So he brought me a Pelligrino and I shared a bite of my lunch and we chatted and harassed each other like brothers and sisters do.

Then came the lecture from the mechanic:

• I apparently use the wrong gas (didn't know that was possible)
• I also apparently drive a legacy like a baja (whatever that means)
• not enough undercarriage washes (like I even knew that was a thing)
• dented exhaust (apparently, from a family reunion up a dirt road NOT meant for low clearance vehicles)
• leaking power steering (I don't want to deal with it!)
• leaking oil ("if its our fault I'll warranty it, but if you're adventures punctured something it'll be several hundred dollars")

And my not so composed responses:

• Uh huh
• huh?
• Sure
• Great
• Bring it in when?
• ok
• whatever
• Can I leave now?

I realized as soon as I pulled back onto the freeway to hurry back to work (after my now TWO HOUR lunch break) that I hadn't heard a thing. I called my brother = not that much help. So I called the mechanic back and explained that I had just been panicking instead of listening. He laughed and said "as soon as you left I turned to the other guy and told him you didn't get a word of that".

Its true. I panicked. I was shaking and in a cold sweat. Cars aren't my thing. Mike dealt with cars needing to go to the shop, he even dealt with oil changes. (I've learned that cars still need oil changes even when spouses die. ITS TRUE! Even when your husband dies, you're supposed to remember to take your car in for an oil change. Even if you haven't done that yourself in 6 years. Otherwise you have to pay to rebuild the engine. True, and pitiful story. )

I am reaching a new normal in so many areas of my life. But there are still these Kryptonite issues that humble my cocky-ass and remind me that I'm not so special. I can't defeat loss. I have good days and bad days, and sometimes both at once. In some ways I think its kind of (nice isn't the word) comforting maybe, to know that there are still places that Mike's life affects mine, for better or worse. Its good to be reminded that his impact in my life is still there. 

You can watch the tree today because it is still alive, but it is only alive because of the rain and the nutrients of all the years before. 

With Love and Light, 

Jess

via

Are you enough for you?

When was the last time you validated yourself?

You can live life looking for someone else to validate you, prove your worth:
the pat on the head for a job done well,
a hug of appreciation for helping out a friend,
warm fuzzies of doing "the right thing".

But when was the last time you told yourself
that you are enough,
that you are doing the right thing,
that you are the best you can be?
Right now. As you are!

Are you enough- for you?

I am not advocating indiscriminate selfishness.
But you should be selfish with validating yourself.
You don't need to be enough for someone else,
in fact its really hard to be enough for anyone else,
if you aren't enough for you.

Sad is ok.
Happy is ok.
Grumpy is ok.
In Love is ok.

All of it is ok if it is what you are feeling.

You aren't going to be able to pass THROUGH sad,
and onto whatever is next,
if you don't sit in sad-land and accept it.

Listen to yourself.
Why are you sad?
It is probably pretty logical to be sad
Can you tell yourself its ok to be sad?

On the other end of the emotional spectrum,
Why should you hide when you are happy?
Even if others are struggling.
You may feel like you should hide your "glow"
because it will make them more sad.

Truth is, they are already sad,
hiding happiness is no way to reinforce that happiness exists
that there is something more worth hoping for.

I see this often in widows who are moving forward,
when they find happiness they try to hide it, so others don't feel bad.
Its the silliest thing!
What could be better for a grieving soul,
than to see one that was once just as pained as our own
flourishing with life and happiness.

My favorite quote is by Marianne Williamson.
It is so awesome that it is even mis-attributed to Nelson Mandela's 1994 inaugural speech.

(please read with intention):
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let your own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Will you re-read that quote one more time? Please


"We are all meant to shine, as children do"
What imagery!
Children do not hide their happy, or their sad.
They exist as perfect expressions of themselves.

By epsos.de

Please accept the happy, the sad, the bitchy, the glamorous
They are all essential, they are all you.

I know that I can live a more fulfilling life:
one with more direction, worth and purpose.
When I live for ME
not you
not my partner.
Just live every day knowing that whatever I do
I am enough
for me.

Are you enough for you?




With Love and Light,
Jess

Via creative commons

I am not one to assert that you can choose not to grieve or have bad times.
When life hits the sh*t fan, you simply can't catch all the pieces.

But you can choose how you grieve.
You can choose to get help,
choose to receive help.

There is no "right" way to grieve that will make everything easy,
you will still make decisions that you wish you hadn't.
You will still have to work at it.

I wrote a few weeks ago about loving yourself
accepting where you are, letting go,
and moving through it, not against it.
Also about recognizing what you are putting out to the world.

There's another step in this equation.
OWNING IT.

Grief, life, the world did not happen "to you"
I hate to destroy millions of pity parties.
But the world is not against you.
No deity singled you out to crap on your pretty life.

Sometimes life didn't go as planned,
if you ask most people,
life didn't go as they planned - sometimes its just a bigger deviation.

But you know what you can control...YOU.
Get yourself up, brush your teeth, and keep trudging.

If you feel "stuck",
think to yourself - "self, have we done anything different lately,
or are we expecting new results from old behavior?"

If working out isn't working, try a peer group,
if dwelling in grief chat rooms isn't working, try running,
if playing atlas and carrying the world on your shoulders is crushing you with its weight, try allowing others to help. You may even have to ask for help because you've pushed all of your helpers away for so long that they've stopped asking.

But if you're willing to change,
if you want to own your path,
you are going to have to step out of your comfort zone.

There are days when you need to hide under the covers,
ignore the world,
and sit with the pain of love, loss and the world.

But that is not every day,
there is balance in this world.
You must own the responsibility for finding happiness to balance your sorrow.

Watch a funny tv show,
go for a bike ride,
appreciate the beauty of the changing colors,
snuggle a kitten.
Most importantly: appreciate what you have, and create what you want.

This weekend I watched a group of 10 widows and widowers do just that.
They took control: they showed up, they opened up
they made a difference: for each other and for themselves.

I heard how much they hate the word "widow"
and that it applies to them.
How they hate raising fatherless children,
feeling crazy all the time,
and not knowing what to do with their beloved's posessions.

I also heard how they wanted more,
more from life, more for themselves
more for their children.
How they were terrified, but going after "more" regardless.

These women (and man) have been handed what's considered the worst cards in the deck,
but they show up, take control, and dare for something more.
I am inspired and in love with the energy and compassion and *hope* we share.

My hope
is that everyone will find it in themselves
to imagine more
then have the guts to proactively go get it.

Its not easy. But its worth it.

What can you do to take more control?

With love and light,
Jess

I was reading an inspiring book today about creating a world beyond poverty called The Blue Sweater. I was highlighting quote after quote on my kindle.
The words on the page were speaking to me:
not only giving respect but insisting on respect, 
how much crueler the poverty of a broken spirit can be than the poverty of income alone,
listening as the key to leadership, 
action over talk as the catalyst of change. 

Then as I read I came to a line where I *gently* tossed the kindle aside and went running for the laptop because today's blog post had made itself known:
"My first-grade nun had instructed me that from those to whom much is given, much is expected. I was learning that this lesson had to be combined with Shakespeare's wisdom that one must 'to thine own self be true.' "

To thine own self be true.

That is the difference between the Jessica that stands and writes and bears her soul in front of you today and the Jessica of years and situations past.

I used to be too afraid to write, even a month ago - I couldn't comprehend who would care what I'm saying, and who would read. The fear of rejection was terrifying, so was the fear of success.

Who am I to write? Who am I to ask people to read what I write?

Then I realized....it didn't matter.

It doesn't matter.

If nobody reads this blog, it doesn't matter.

If someone dislikes this blog - still doesn't matter.

Will I embarrass my family, myself....doesn't matter.

I learned something from a dear widow friend of mine almost 2 years ago - Don't go along with something if it is not being true to yourself. You can only grieve, recover, flourish and thrive if you are true to yourself first. This was again reaffirmed a year ago when I met another radiant widow who again had vibrancy, purity and a spirit that was unmistakable. I asked her about her secret, for a second time I heard...following/finding your own north star.

The best part of being true to yourself is that you have nothing to apologize for.

Since I started on the journey of living for myself
I have never cried so purely,
I have never laughed so freely,
I have never loved so deeply,
I have never swam so naked,
I have never danced so confidently
as I do now that the only thing that matters is that I am being true to myself.

I have built a fence,
traveled internationally,
studied yoga,
gained control over my food allergies,
buried a husband - but remained open enough to love again,
counseled friends,
attended a music festival with 80,000 other people,
cried in public,
sold my house,
Most importantly I have released old dreams so that new ones could take seed.

It doesn't bother me if someone doesn't like that I am writing, or what I am writing. Because I don't write for them (obviously!) If what I write doesn't speak to their soul as something they need to hear, so what? That fact does not negate the fact that it may speak to another person's soul.

In the past 2 weeks I have seen that I can instil confidence, inspire self-reflection, encourage peace. Just by being willing to find myself in the open.*Who would have thought?*

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are we not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small doesn’t serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone.
And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fears, our presence automatically liberates others.
Source: A Return to Love-Marianne Williamson, 
as quoted by Nelson Mandela in his inaugural speech (1994)

My purpose in writing this blog is not to be pigeonholed into any category (widow, activist, yogi), or to break any stereotype (that of the young widow, that of the bleeding heart, or the granola hippie).  Instead, it is to be true to myself. To honestly convey the feelings and motivations and inspirations that drive my day.
Hopefully to inspire and encourage even one more person to do the same.
I used to shy away and hide myself - for fear of being judged, for fear of not being good enough.
I will fear these things no more as long as I am true.

THIS WILL BE MY 30 DAY CHALLENGE:

To write down something every day that is TRUE.
True to myself.
It might be funny, it might be insightful, it might be tough to say...but it will all be true.

“ Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is. ”
— Ernest Hemingway

After watching the video at the bottom of this blog I was inspired. And I thought this would be a great plan for me to get to know and bond with my friends & blog readers.

So here's the plan:

30 days of Small Sustainable Change

Its that simple.
30 days to add or remove something from your life. Something small, but sustainable.


Here are some ideas:

• Take a photo everyday
• Make a diet/exercise change, but don't weigh yourself for a whole month
• Walk 10 minutes each day
• Cook an at-home scratch meal every day
• Play one-on-one with each child for 10 minutes
• Eliminate processed sugars
• Remove the word "can't" "don't" or "&*(*&" from your vocabulary

Basically anything that you can do EACH day for 30 days. 

There's a group of us meeting for dinner tonight to discuss this further. What I'm hearing so far is exciting.....affirmations.

Do you think you could write down something positive about yourself each day?
I think it might be harder than I anticipate.

Challenge:

Design your own 30 day simple and sustainable change

Response:

Tell me about it! Lets inspire each other!

With Love and Light, 
Jess

The Grief Bus

Last week I had George in my office. A man in his 60's changing the beneficiary forms because his wife died  suddenly 2 weeks prior. He came in reserved but strong, braced to complete another set of forms to remind himself that she was gone, and he was alone, and things were changing.

I didn't have the form he was expecting, I had the other ones that I knew he would need. He looked confused. I said "I'm just trying to help. My husband passed 2 years ago, trust me - you'll be glad you changed your withholdings. And if you need any help with the forms, let me know. I've done them all."

He seemed to need a second to absorb it. During that time, I kept filling things out and showing him where to sign. Then, without looking up, he said "I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm glad you understand."
I gently said, "I do"
He continued... "It just hurts. Not the way people think it does, I mean actually physically hurts,"
He looks up with these vulnerable eyes and pounds the center of his chest "right here, ya know?".

Yeah George - I know

....
A week later, I wake up.
The day after completing my 2nd year without Mike.
I have to roll out of bed, because I can't stand.
My back is in too much pain to climb the stairs at work without stopping for a break.
And I remember George.

I remember that I'm not alone.
We all feel the pain of grief.
Not just the emotional, but the physical pain.

Our bodies react to trauma and stress.
I can't hit a significant date without wanting to sleep all the time, but actually sleeping - never.
Then the body goes out. First I'm comatose on the couch because it hurts to lift my arms.
Then I realize I'm staring at the wall because it hurts to think.
Lastly, I wake up in the morning and have to roll because I can't stand until I've done some yoga.

Whats ironic- I'm not in emotional pain today.
Just that nagging - I've been hit by a bus feeling.
I feel relieved that I've passed the date.
Relieved to have it past. I'm officially in the third year.
Now I just have to build my body and immunity back up.
And recover from being hit by the grief bus.

....

My plan:

yoga - I have a class pass that has to be used soon. I will use that and start yoga-ing more frequently.
read - get back into the calm of reading at night.
massage - I'm going tonight to try to work out some of the muscular issues that have been plaguing me.
connecting - I will be genuine and connect with friends and family.
truth - I will be honest with myself about how much I am going through, and try not to judge myself

Your response:

What do you do to recover from the grief bus?
When do you notice the physical symptoms outweighing the emotional ones?

With love and light for your journey,
Jess