Grief presents many paradoxes. One of the most obvious is the paradox of time: it's a weird "only/already" zone that continually plagues us. How can it only be a month since they passed, but how can it already be a month as well? Our relationships become scrambled and realigned as those who we thought we were close to might not show up while others we don't know nearly as well so, fully. And another paradox that shows up, if we allow it to, is allowing us the opportunity to step completely into who we want to be with complete authenticity.
That may sound overly lofty but I truly do believe that to be a north star after profound loss. When the worst has already happened, what else is there to lose? I found that grief provided me with courage I didn't know I had before because, really, there was no other choice. My bandwith for bullshit was also at an all time low so I didn't feel compelled to indulge others at my own expense. I began to see the world around me with so much more clarity, probably to the detriment of my professional life. Grief tosses all of our plans, goals, and beliefs up in the air and juggles it around - and what lands is often much different than what we expected.
For me, grief provided keen insight into what I valued. I'd been pretty happy with my job for a few years, so it was kind of shocking to me that I dreaded going back to it after a leave of absence. Suddenly, small annoyances at work seemed so petty that I didn't want to waste any time at all dealing with them. And that was pretty problematic since I was a manager who was there precisely to deal with small annoyances. While I didn't leave the position immediately because I didn't quite have that much clarity yet, it became increasingly obvious that my goals have shifted so much that it simply was no longer a good fit.
Through my own work with clients and through my work as a client, I've been able to really hone in on what is important to me. Personal freedom and independence has always been important but I realize now that those are crucial to who I am. Too often in the past, I'd acquiesce and align myself with people or situations that clipped my wings. I thought that that was just how life was. But by being much clearer about who I am, I've been able to articulate that and guess what? Nothing bad happened. I didn't lose anything. I'm just fine. In fact, I'm better than fine because I've been able to explore the world in ways I hadn't thought possible before.
Perhaps the trickiest part of all of this is where to start. If we were in a longterm partnership and lost our person, we simply might not know what personal authenticity means on our own. The good news is that there is no rush with this. Part of authenticity can include slowing down to really dig in and get to know ourselves. Why are we drawn to certain things and not others? Breaking down the whys behind what we want can provide insight into what next steps can bring us to where we want to be, not where we're going out of default.
Profound loss is brutal - there's no way to sugarcoat it. We will be plunged into grief, we will grapple to pull ourselves out. But when we do... then what? That's the opening right there. The rest of our lives are ahead of us. What do we want it to look like?
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