Still full from fattening fun or dysfunctional family functions, I’m facing the New Year bursting with hairballs (like cat’s have.) There are Valentines in the stores, there’s regret and excitement in the air, people losing or finding partners, and questions about what’s next. And then, of course, taxes.
It’s a time of reevaluation, change and rearranging, joy and pain, relationships still held together by loose threads. The horrors, mysteries and miracles of this world are a lot to digest.
I’m so discombobulated at this turning of the year – from floods, earthquakes, holidays in the middle of the week, the news, and friends in surgery or who have passed away, yet are still on LinkedIn.
As Alison Armstrong says, “Whether it’s a hairball or an elephant, the truth will stick in your throat until you cough it up. Unfortunately, many people wait until the pressure forces the truth out, and then deliver it like a drive-by shooting. A smarter, and kinder, approach is to prepare for telling the truth while having the capacities to handle the repercussions. Whether it’s “I love you”’ or “this isn’t working for me,” the truth is always disruptive.”
Over Thanksgiving I spent a week with my brother in a nursing home down south, saying things to each other that were eating at us. Out came the hairballs. Words unspoken for years, about how we miss each other and the inevitability of his dying (and mine). After years of tip-toeing around the subject, he uttered, “I want to tell you something.” I gasped. He rarely spoke up after the stroke. “I’m going to die.”
We both fell apart just hearing the words. He grabbed my hand and held it tight to his chest. We cried, we remembered, we connected. We talked about the good times, fear and faith. “I miss you,” he spoke boldly. I whispered, (a bit in shock even having this conversation) “I miss you every day.”
We faced the challenge of expressing our feelings.
So, trying to calm my nerves after all that went on during the holidays, I stayed home on New Year’s Eve, curled up with my dogs under the electric blanket. I made the mistake of watching TV. I was up until 3 a.m. between the adrenalin of the midnight fireworks and waiting for the dogs to calm down from what sounded like guns in the air. Why do we always celebrate with the sounds of guns?
These days everyone says, “it is what it is.” I guess because we feel helpless to change things. So, what to do? Gotta face it to change it. Life asks a lot of us, but we do what we can. My brother reads the news every morning and shakes his head. He teaches me how to be resilient in a difficult world. He shows me how to surrender, to love, to be patient, how to live in the moment. He shows me how to show up when life isn’t easy.
It’s difficult for some and easier for others, but we all need to keep trying to make ourselves, and our world, better. No matter where we’re at, adapting to change and rolling with it is how we stay afloat. Keeping our sense of humor, kindness and communication is what I learn from Lee.
Pema Chodon says it well, “Healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.” And I would add, time for rebellion and repair, and a good joke. Insisting on a better world – in whatever way we can.
So don’t just keep your eye on the ball — bounce with it.
Katy Byrne, MFT, is a Sonoma psychotherapist editor and write, working with couples, individuals, transitions, losses, wishes and the kitchen sink.
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