An view of the skyline pointed at skyscraper buildings from the ground level

Twelve years ago, my granddad went to heaven. When I think back, that season of life is still very much a blur. We’d lost my grandma one year earlier and life shifted in a way none of us were prepared for. In an instant, life—stable, safe and rooted—as we’d known it was forever altered.

In an instant, life—stable, safe and rooted—as we’d known it was forever altered.

In the midst of my fear of losing him, my angst of the unknown and my desire for control, I quit my job and accepted a new position while he was in the hospital. Days after sharing the news with him, he passed away. It’s hard to recall specific moments between his passing and life finding its new rhythm, but I do remember one thing pretty clearly.

The week in between. The week of nothing. The week of rest. The week of reflection—to process, prepare and simply be.

This was long before I even knew what processing meant and long before I knew what true rest looked like. It was before I knew just how important self-care was in times of such upheaval and deeply-seeded grief. Still, I sat in my grandma’s rocking chair, in my grandparent’s empty house, rocking back and forth for days on end.

As I approached the anniversary of his passing, I sat thinking about how crucial self-care is in this worldly moment and it’s connection to such a memorable time in my family’s world. I couldn’t help but see the similarities between my feelings during that season of loss and the ones I’m working through during these current times.

I thought about how the world’s experiencing a season of rest, reflection and processing after great loss and immense change. I thought about how processing looks different for everyone. 

The world’s experiencing a season of rest, reflection and processing after great loss and immense change.

Some people are doing their best to maintain control over what they can. Some are falling victim to fear and anxiety, and it’s completely gripping them. Some, like me, are simply rocking back and forth for days, weeks and months on end—just hoping for some direction.

Make some time for yourself today. Take a moment during this “in between” to just be with yourself. Check in on your heart. Express your feelings—even if they don’t make any sense. (That’s totally normal!)

Close your eyes and just be right here, in this moment. The world will move again. Grieve what once was, and find new rhythms of grace. 

How do you process hard emotions? If you have a tendency to run from confronting hard emotions, identify how you feel in that moment. Write those feelings down on paper and read them aloud to yourself.

Image via Hannah Lacy

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