Today I gave a six hour seminar on grief, which is always a good time.
And by six hours, I mean I had to be here two hours before, plus an hour not to get lunch, and an hour cleanup. So that makes it a nine hour seminar, and I am exhausted. My body hurts and my back aches and it was all worth it. I loved it, and I loved the people who came, and I love how much they taught me while I was supposed to be teaching them. It was a good group, and I am super excited about doing this every month this year.
By the time we were done, my car had a thin layer of ice and the sky was spitting snow.
It was bitter cold, especially without a coat, but somehow crisp in the quiet calm as I sat by the lake warming up in my car.
It felt like life, cold and harsh, except also everything is okay.
I felt at peace, relieved by the seminar being completed well, and the at home in my own skin in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
There was no begging for it not to be cold anymore, and no yearning for summer, and no trying to pretend it’s not as cold as it is.
I was just there, in the cold, but okay.
Like life, right?
Like how a moment with a friend can change everything, how loving your husband changes the world, and how watching your children play somehow softens the hard work of raising them.
And I loved how, even though I use more self-disclosure in this seminar than any other, I was okay. My grief wasn’t present, or drowning me, or right now. It was somehow, finally, “back then”, and dealing okay with Kyrie as far as whatever kind of day she is having or not. I have grown some, it felt like, and healed lots, and just there for a while knowing that and being glad for it.
It’s okay, you see, to just be okay.
And Nathan is still here on the other side of it.
And so are friends.
And so is my God.
And I am okay.
Not finished, and there will be more hard things because winter is always cold.
But I am okay, and I can finally remember what Spring is like – even if it isn’t quite here yet.