Sometimes I forget That I Am Strong

Both during and after the loss of my Mom, I’ve been taking a lot of notes and find it important to share my thoughts on what I’m experiencing. In my mind, if one person who has lost a loved one or is going through a difficult transition in life can benefit from a word or two, I’ve done something right.

This evening I went to yoga — and to my mat I brought a mix of fears, frustration, and tension. No joy.

Honestly, since the death of my Mom and the stressors that have come with the aftermath, I’ve really found it challenging to find joy at times. Not that I’m miserable or madly depressed, but I’m still processing a lot of what I saw and experienced. Plus, there’s the void that comes with not being able to connect with her — to ask her questions when I feel I need answers so badly — or giggle with her until our eyes overflow with tears.

And so tonight, I went to yoga feeling completely overwhelmed. I had the urge to leave the moment I walked into the studio. However, I stayed and began to push my way into the first few minutes of class. Before I knew it, something profound occurred.

Somehow I entered into a beautiful flow. I became stronger than I could have ever imagined. My body knew what to do, and my mind let go.

It quickly became apparent to me that my resistance was all smoke and mirrors. I began feeling joyful. Not the kind of joy that comes easily, rather the kind that comes when you’ve climbed a massive mountain or reached a goal you never thought you’d attain.

As the yoga class intensified, my body and soul began to sing a bit. The words “I forgot that I am strong” kept echoing through my mind.

By the end of class, I was completely drenched in salty sweat and it felt amazing. My teacher brought a cold, damp cloth with hints of lavender oil sprinkled on it. She lay it over my brow and I was in heaven.

I had pushed my way through my resistance and was rewarded in a way I will never forget.

Life has brought me the greatest challenge in my lifetime in my Mom’s death. Being parentless feels weird. It sometimes makes me feel very alone. Who knew that not being able to pick up the phone and call her would be so devastating?

Not that I don’t have amazing friends and family, but it makes me feel like a baby bird that has been pushed out of her nest.

I’m being told to fly, but I hurt in ways that are unfamiliar. I’m exposed to the world in a way that is new to me. No longer do I have any buffers.

I’m learning it’s all okay. Day by day, I’m learning. Over time it will take the perfect blend of momentum and surrender to help me understand where life is supposed to lead next.

Or better yet, for me just to be completely at ease with wherever I am at any given moment…

– By Jen Engevik