Re-Balancing After Loss: Carry Two Buckets

(Author's source,
used with permission)

Grandpa Gus was a hard working farmer in Iowa. It was a good life and in wartime, demand was high for eggs, milk, corn and soybean crops. 

Gus, like most grandparents, welcomed the eager participation of visiting grandkids. Chores were assigned because chores are a part of life, but for a townie, the farm was loaded with adventures. From dumping a pail of kitchen scraps in the hog pen, balancing on a milking stool, or avoiding hen pecks while collecting eggs, each task came with a few how-to's and occasionally some patient I-told-you-so's. The lessons were basic and sometimes--profound.

Always Carry Two Buckets

Balancing heavy loads is both art and science. Grandpa Gus routinely carried two buckets loaded with any number of things, and while weights could be substantial, he'd learned that balance was key. 

Isn't it true that one of the most difficult aspects of losing a loved one is the sudden sense of imbalance? Countless habits and routines now feel off-kilter. In her song "My Old Man," Joni Mitchell lamented, "The bed's too big, the frying pan's too wide."  Not simply the realm of spouse/partner death, this lopsided, not-right feeling can surge with the death of a child, the loss of a close friend, or the end of a job. It may seem like everything needs to be figured out again!

Will I Ever Feel Happy?

Our basic quest to feel balanced is normal; like gravity, it anchors almost all choices and activities. Fortunately, I believe life balance can be healed and restored in the metaphor of Grandpa Gus's advice:  always carry two buckets. 

Here's how to get started...Identify your buckets

(Source: Hemerson Coelho on Unsplash)

One bucket is already brimful of feelings. Accept and be gentle with that deeply personal load. Follow the McCartney lyrical adage: Let It Be. 

Your second bucket should hold whatever (used to) makes you smile, feel good, and awaken curiosity. Consider experiences that reduce self absorption. Trust that your first bucket is doing its job of holding emotions and fears. As you fill, empty, and refill this second bucket, I promise you that the first bucket will begin to feel a little bit lighter. 

(Source: Heather McKean on Unsplash)

Consider Lighter Loads

1. Exercise and Spend time in nature
2. Volunteer
3. Find new homes for (gifting/donating) some of the decedent's belongings
4. Start a Gratitude Journal or Bowl
5. Meet trusted friends for coffee
6. Walk through a gallery or museum
7. Explore spirituality
8. Take a just-for-fun class
9. Review your own bucket list and make a plan!
10. Challenge 'Life' to send you wonderful surprises (It will!)

(Source: Rafael Garcin on Unsplash)

Thank you for caring...and sharing!

Cricket After Cricket: Life Goes On

Author image

The Growing Through Grief series

With remarkable frequency, I find crickets in my house. Rather than a cause for alarm that my door seals are leaking (they're not,) I see these visitors as messengers of life, and then carefully escort them outside. Life goes on. 

For anyone who has mourned the death of a loved one or experienced a painful life change, there is a dominant question: will life go on? And if I accept that as fact--even while clueless--the next question is: what will a new life look like? For most, the acute state of emptiness and even purposelessness will change to a gentle forbearance after two or three months. Then, as new patterns develop:  brewing a smaller pot of coffee, rising earlier to walk the dog, halving recipes or opting for convenience food and paper plates, what a new life looks like begins to emerge. As the visiting crickets suggest, life goes on.

"Cricket symbolism is a sign of exceptional luck. Furthermore, this spirit animal says that the things that you have been working toward and dreaming about are now possible." Source

Author image

Moving beyond forbearance, however, is an important indicator of adjustment. When I found myself beginning to define my future with wants, hopes, and dreams, I stopped asking others "where do I belong?" and began asking myself what do I need? I asked, what do I like to do? and then rephrased it as: what do I really, really want to do? I realized I was tying my shoelaces with a new intention:  being and becoming who I truly wanted to be.

There is a wonderful poem which supported me line by line, as I moved through grief, day by day. It reminded me that yes--life goes on, and unimaginably good things can unfold if I am open to them!

Thou hast made me endless

 (from Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore)

Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure.

This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again,

 and fillest it ever with fresh life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales,

 and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.

At the immortal touch of thy hands

 my little heart loses its limits in joy

 and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me

 only on these very small hands of mine. 

Ages pass, and still thou pourest, 

and still there is room to fill.

Author image

This post is lovingly dedicated to RRR

Thank you for caring and sharing!

Read more about grief adjustment, and supporting someone adjusting after a loss:

Be Brave With Your Life

Grief Recovery: Grinding Up the Old Road, Paving the New

Gifts for Someone Grieving: Priceless Privacy and Peace

Climbing Out of Deep Space: through and beyond grief