My heart has been heavy as of late.
Heavy with the loss of a close friendship I thought I was building over this past year; heavy with the sadness of past close friendships that fell away that have been reopened in the wake of these fresh feelings of hurt and sorrow; heavy with the collection of matters I’ve been invested in over the past few months in regards to suicide awareness and prevention, hospice work, and the class on racism I’ve been involved in; and heavy with the ongoing heartbreak of the people – my people.
Tonight, I was planning on going to a public talk on the UM campus on the topic of missing and murdered indigenous women. Then, on my way home from work this afternoon, I thought to myself: My heart is simply too heavy and sore and tender to absorb any more right now. I think I need to stay home tonight and practice self-care. So that’s what I intend on doing.
In regards to the friendship I’m currently in heartache over, I’ve come to realize – after much processing back and forth – that there is a way for me to keep my heart open to this person while also distancing myself from them. My work right now is centered around letting go. And gosh, it sure is hard.
While I will remain open to this person, should they decide to reach out to me on their own (which seems highly unlikely), I need to stop trying to connect interpersonally with this person. I’ve exhausted myself in being the only one reaching out; the only one trying to have open and honest communication; the only one who seems invested in furthering our relationship. Despite how close we were getting, how hopeful I was that I’d found someone to cultivate a deeper connection with, this person has recently bailed almost entirely on our friendship. And it hurts. It hurts more than it seems like it “should.”
The work of letting go is sometimes excruciatingly difficult. And a big part of this work for me right now, is allowing my feelings to be just as they are, without trying to fix them or placate them with niceities or cover over them with dispersion and distraction techniques. I keep telling myself: It’s okay that this freekin sucks right now. It’s okay that your heart hurts and that you’re full of sorrow. And then I follow those reminders with this one: Try not to let your temporary feelings of hurt imprint a lasting impression on getting close with others. Don’t let this be what shuts your heart down.
This morning, I wrote this on my writer’s facebook page:
The work I’ve done on myself, I’ve not done for myself alone. The work I continue to do – will continue to do – is for the people. For all those I affect in my wake; for my ancestors; for future generations; for all those I will never know.
And I am humbled, honored, and grateful for this drive forward – this mission in which I’ve inherited from a long line of spiritual healers, on a mission to assist with the great heartbreak of the people.
The practice – my practice – continues.