Reflections on A Passing Year

 "All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on." - Havelock Ellis

December 27 - the dying days of 2015.  At the end of last year, my hope was for a restoration to health, an improvement in my business fortunes and a reconnection to some loved ones who had retreated from my life.

My health is marginally better than it was at this time last year.  I'm still in physio every two weeks and I still haven't managed to get to an appointment without the need for a major realignment of my back.  Though I was assured last June by a leading specialist that I would be back in high heels in a matter of weeks, I am not.  The longer my back issues persist, the more I am becoming resigned to the idea that I will probably never again wear the hundreds of pairs of beautiful shoes that I have.  It is time to let go.

My hopes that Courtney would find a place for me in her life were also dashed.  She has been  brutally clear that she has no desire to see me again.  I was wrong to believe that she had come to care for me separate from her relationship with my son.  That she lived in my house for much of three years, that I fed her, clothed her, chauffeured her, edited her school papers and treated her like my very own daughter was ultimately meaningless.  She cares not at all about me, perhaps she never did. As painful as it is, it's time to let go.

Consistent with the adage "Be careful what you wish for", my business soared this year at a pace that has left me breathless.  Life as a consultant is usually feast or famine.  I've seen no famine this year.  I've had far more work than one person can reasonably manage.  I didn't want to turn down work no matter how much pressure it put me under to accept every assignment but I've come to realize that I can no longer keep up this pace.  I'm grateful for the luxury of being able to pick and choose my assignments.  As for the notion that I need to do it all - it's time to let go.

On January 4, Jacob will start his new job.  I am, of course, thrilled for him.  It is the opportunity he was been seeking since graduating eighteen months ago.  He has declared his intention to move out into his own place.  As much as I will miss him, it's time to let go.

Letting go has never been my strong suit.  I need to get a whole lot better at it.  When I write my year end blog next December, I hope I will be able to report that letting go made room for new possibilities, new experiences and new growth.

Happy New Year.

Shattered

"Faith is the strength by which a shattered world shall emerge into the light." - Helen Keller

There is not a joint in my body that isn't aching but it is the sense of being emotionally shattered that I am most struggling with today.  All the Advil in the world can't fix that.

We made the long drive to Brantford for the funeral service of Gail's dad yesterday.  Gail delivered a beautiful and powerful eulogy at the service.  The tributes to her dad's legacy were abundant and lengthy.  As lovely as the service was, I was completely drained by the time we headed back to Toronto.  By rights, I should have gone to Montreal the day before to attend the funeral of Jon's uncle.  I just couldn't find the energy to make the ten hour return trip.  I sent flowers, prayers and love knowing it was not enough but this week it was the best that I could do.

I have more work than I can handle these days, for which I am most grateful.  But I've had to make some hard choices and face some hard truths.  At sixty years old, I don't have a lot of 60 hour work weeks in me.  As much as I hate to do it, I have to let some things go.  I will finish up with the private clients I have but barring an unusual circumstance, I won't be taking on new ones.  The work can be rewarding but it is rarely lucrative and it is most always draining.  I will continue my work with corporate clients who are demanding enough and focus my energy on my bread and butter clients.  I'll only be accepting new corporate clients if the work they need done is interesting or fun.  I'm happy to do training, mentoring and executive coaching.  I will do investigations, program building and H.R. strategy.  But my days of going into companies to do the messiest, ugliest, scariest terminations are done.  I'm retiring my hatchet.

 

There is much to do in these short weeks until Christmas.  I have yet to do any shopping.  Jacob has landed a new job beginning in January.  Unlike most businesses, the dress code in the department he will be working in is still quite formal.  So I will be concentrating most of my shopping on getting him a couple of new suits and sports jackets.  Other than that, I will focus my efforts on the kids in the family - not that there are many.  I will get the house decorated over the next couple of weeks.  I decided on a white feather theme this year to remind us that our guardian angels are always near.  Given the state of the world, we can use all the angels we can get.

Grief

 "I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge.  That myth is more potent than history.  That dreams are more powerful than facts.  That hope always triumphs over experience.  That laughter is the only cure for grief.  And I believe that love is stronger than death." - Robert Fulghum

Perhaps it is the time of year that makes things feel worse.  Grief in a season of joy seems magnified.  On Monday, Gail's dad passed away after a long battle with heart disease.  He was ninety-four.  She is devastated.  Even when we know the loss of a loved one is coming, there is no way to steel oneself against the pain when it occurs.

On Tuesday, we learned that Jon's uncle, Josee's brother, had also passed away.  Apparently he dropped his children off at school, returned home, laid on the couch and died.  No illness.  No warning.  He was fifty-three.  Devastation doesn't even begin to describe the grief of his family.

I was already feeling blue before the news of these deaths.  The state of the world seems bleak.  I've tried turning off the news and stopped giving the front page of the newspaper more than a perfunctory glance.  Nonetheless, I can't seem to escape from it.  The mass shooting in California last night hit me hard. I heard about it sitting in the dining room at my mom's nursing home.  I don't understand anything anymore.

Normally I would turn to prayer in these times of darkness.  But as the New York Daily News wrote in their headline this morning - God isn't fixing this.   I'm struggling to find hope and laughter.