21 Mar 2017
This past year has been tough. Amazing in a lot of ways, but also challenging.
A little over a year ago, I uprooted my life, left my beautiful and supportive community of friends and moved across the country. It was absolutely the right decision for me and much of it has been wonderful, but it’s also been hard.
It has been lonely. Exhausting. Full of grief. I have felt unsettled and ungrounded. I still feel a bit lost and uncertain about where my life is going.
I know that all of this is simply part of the process of change and creating a life in a new place. I know that as time continues and I keep showing up, I’ll create another community, make new friends, sort out my personal and professional life and things will feel better. I have no doubts that this time of feeling lost and lonely will be worth it as life continues to unfold.
But sometimes the process really sucks.
The hardest part has been being without my support system. I mean, I still have them via the phone or Skype – but it’s not quite the same as sitting down with them in person, being in their presence, and talking. Plus, I really really miss the hugs!
Some days, when things are particularly hard, I doubt my decision to move and wonder what the ever-loving hell I was thinking.
But there is one person that I have met here that helps me stay centered. She helps me ride these waves of loneliness and uncertainty and doubt until I can remember to trust the process and stay on track.
I don’t really know her all that well personally. She’s my supervisor at work.
She knows more of my story, because, well, I’m the mother of two dead children who works at a facility full of pregnant and parenting young mothers. That causes quite a bit of my personal shit to come up.
I keep trying to pinpoint exactly what it is about her or what she does that feel so supportive and helpful.
The best I can come up with is that she sits with me.
She doesn’t try to fix it. She doesn’t pretend to have magic answers. She doesn’t try to change what I’m feeling. She doesn’t really do anything in particular.
She simply listens and sits with me.
That allows me to sit with myself and whatever I happen to be feeling in that moment. It helps me to take a deep breath and remember to trust the process.
And in those moments when she sits with me, the weight of all the grief and change and uncertainty doesn’t feel quite so heavy. I don’t feel as alone or lost. I feel heard and seen and supported. She lets me be me and be wherever I am.
Sometimes, what we need isn’t a quick fix. We don’t necessarily need anything fancy or elaborate.
Sometimes we just need someone who will sit with us.
She sits with me.
It makes a world of difference.