Distraction

Grief is hard. It hits at unexpected moments, sounds, memories, and times of day.

The sound of the ding in my airpods that reminds me of a text that never comes through.

The amount of crying selfies I’ve taken haunts me. Am I a teenage girl? I’ve resorted to hiding them in a folder. Except I’m putting a horrid one on here to force myself to look at it and cringe.

I feel like I’ve been checking all the self-care boxes.

Meditation? Check.

Retail therapy? Check. I’m very excited for my gorgeous new gold Mejuri necklace to be delivered shortly.

How many times I’ve cried on my yoga mat, singing “Down Bad crying at the gym” in my head is ridiculous. But at least I’ve been on my yoga mat working out!

Started battling my picture organization. I’m a year and a half behind and I went from 3k photos to under 2k photos. Still working on it. Need to start on G’s video compilations. (Ooh, started that last night and I already love it.)

TV can be a distraction, so that’s another check. When my brain starts freaking out, just turn on something to watch and well, it doesn’t get rid of it but it softens it. Distracts.

The guilt, empathy, and anxiety that sits in my stomach is horrific. Unknowing. The inevitableness of grief – of death, of loss, of whatever – just hits in waves. I’m breathing through it. I’m talking to friends. I’m distracting myself. I’m finding the joy.

I’m going to be gentle to myself. I’m going to speak to myself nicely. I’m going to put my hand on my heart and breathe.

Yesterday (two days ago now?) I had a birthday dinner for a friend. Usually we are out in a group but it’s been months so I invited her separately and we sat there for a long time once dinner was over talking about Boy Scouts, college, life, and reunions. That was so lovely.

I took a dive on the roller coaster to a low and then surfaced to regular level. It’s a journey. I guess. I wonder how I can tell if it’s the lowest of the lows or not? Is it the amount of tears? The time spent crying? The stomachache? So curious to know. But I do know that it always gets better. When I flip to laughing and feeling stable, it’s a nice thought to remember.

Last Sunday, I pulled the Universe card. I was feeling unsettled enough and it spoke to me. So many possibilities but I was stuck. So many things to be stuck at.

I loved that card. It felt so odd that I had pulled it. Things emerging, me recreating myself and building a new universe. The cards always give the good and the bad so the “problem” stuck out a little for me too. Indecisive, paralyzed, stuck. I sat with it for awhile.

Monday was a day. I grabbed the cards again and sat with them for awhile before pulling the Integrity card. I frequently pull Wands, it’s part of the inspiration and motivating drives section of Tarot. That card hit me like a slap. It’s a word I had been talking to my business coach about, having the integrity to know I tried all that I could do. And here I was… having it shoved in my face.

It felt appropriate. Do I have integrity? I do. I know the path I need to take but sometimes it’s hard. Actually, I don’t always know the path but I know what’s right. And it was interesting to sit with this card for a bit. I’m still internalizing it and waiting and seeing, I think.

On Friday, I pulled Child of Worlds which didn’t feel as apt. It was interesting to think about being a child, playing at life, and moving into more responsibility. The caption referenced Disneyland, which made me laugh since I’m going there soon.

Tarot is funny. I like how it makes me think – for a moment at least – about a different perspective.

Such a random tangent from grief to work. Life is a journey. I forgive myself and ask for forgiveness and go back to my being gentle and distractions.

And joy.

But maybe organizing the closet next…

Maybe. Or just folding some clothes? That’s an easier choice.