Grief, the sea and why I'm listening to my heart
I’m emo. Not in the 'ring my eyes with thick black kohl and wear a fringe over one eye', but in the ‘shit, my mum and dad are not here anymore and I have to be a grown up in the world’ kind o' way. The only way to soothe this emo is for me to be by the sea. The Viking knows this a Lisa cure-all and can pack a beach bag in record time. We set off, except I'd forgotten to grab a towel, so instead of turning around and coming home, we popped into my mumma's house. Everything is still as it was, I can't bring myself to move it, because when I do, I'll know that it's real. That's she's really gone. That I can't speak to her or call her anymore. It'll start to become less and less my mumma's house, because my mumma's not here anymore and that? That sucks. So we went to the sea. It was fierce, choppy and salty and it didn't matter if I cried as the waves slapped at my body. I immersed over and over again, letting the sea consume me. If I could live IN the sea, I totally would. I was deffo a merm-girl in a previous life. When I got out, the Viking wrapped me in the towel and I was overwhelmed by the smell. It still smelt distinctly o' my mumma's laundry and I cried. I cried. I cried and cried. The sea swelled with the amount o' tears that were running from my cheek onto the pebbles. It was in that moment that I realised I've been trying so hard to do and be. People are demanding me to do legal things with wills. People are wanting me to be back to work. People are wanting me to get back to normal. (Honestly, people have actually asked, 'do you think you'll be back to normal soon?') Right now, I'm grieving. There's no time limit on that shit. But what I do know is that I have to actually give myself time to DO IT. I've been fearing that if I take time out, people won't want to work with me, my business will suffer, clients will forget me and how will I pay bills? But I'm trusting. Instead of trying to BE and DO, I'm showing up by checking out. For four weeks at least, I'm listening to what my big beat-y heart needs and well...I'm going to do that.
I'm going to be in the sea as often as possible. I'm going to read a pile o' books. I'm going to move my body in all kinds of divine ways. I'm going to play my drum, shake my rattle and chant to the goddess. I'm going to allow myself to get excited about planning the gorgeous details for the SASSY SHE retreat in Seville 2014 (read about it here, it's going to be freakin' amazing.) and I'm going to write and draw. If I think it needs sharing, I'll share it. If not, I'll create anyway. And I'll cry. I'll cry as often as I need to in order to honour myself, my loss, my mumma.