Molasses Isn’t So Bad

While listening to The Daily podcast “A New Way to Mourn,”a son still fresh from his mother’s death spoke about his experience of loss during COVID-19. He said, “I couldn’t be busy and running around doing the things I would normally do to distract myself.”Instead all he could manage was “settling into my grief and thinking about my mom..”

We’ve all been swimming in loss for so long now. Because of physical distancing and the isolation that results from it, everything has been molasses-slow. For those who have just experienced loss, it means a higher chance of staying in the sticky thickness for longer—though the distractions we lost for a year and a half are more available now, nothing can distract us from the fact that things have changed. For some that may feel foreboding, but I’ve recently realized the sweet beauty in a less-distracted life too.

It was such a gorgeous day last week that I shook out my hammock, which I’ve had for years and rarely use, and put it up. While lying in the hammock and looking up, I slowed down long enough to notice the dappled light streaming in through the oak leaves. Feelings I hadn’t paid attention to started emerging; stirrings I had stuffed. For once I resisted pushing them back down. After all, I’ve become an expert at compartmentalizing. I was gentle with myself, and I allowed myself to feel the sadness around a broken relationship. Time stood still for a while. Strangely, it was good to feel the sadness, and a healing balm came over me. 

I realized my inattention to my soul keeps me from feeling more, living more, accessing more, and sensing more. 

Now, I relish slowing down. There’s a throbbing sensation about it, but it’s one I want to feel. It opens me up.. I can dose my pain—it doesn’t all need my attention at once.

So much damage occurs when we desensitize ourselves from pain or try to escape from it. In reality, cutting off the “negative” emotions means cutting off the “positive” ones too. 

One of our foundational healing philosophies at PathLights is that leaning into loss creates space for healing to occur. This doesn’t mean groveling in the dark or intentionally trying to be sad. Instead it means allowing yourself to feel what emerges and to sense all that is inside you without repressing feelings or sensations.  

Though slowing down may not feel like a gift, it can provide something we are not accustomed to—space without so much noise. Space to listen to our inner wisdom. Space to hear what we’ve been feeling. Space to allow true healing to begin.