“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” – Leonard Cohen’s -Anthem 

Hello friends.  This may be one of the few times I’m at a loss for words.  The air feels dense, like the world has been covered with a soaking wet wool blanket.  It’s hard to take a breath under its substantial weight. 

I lost more subscribers this week. The old me would have felt wounded – like I lost the high school popularity contest with the cool kids – but the “me” today accepts that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.  I really am at peace with the loss.

The truth is, that while I share this space with you every week in the hope that you might relate to it, find a common theme, perhaps give you something to think about or provoke a discussion; this space is mostly for me. It’s one of my therapies.

I first lost subscribers with my post about National Truth and Reconciliation Day and then I lost a few more with my Me Too post.  I guess they aren’t my people; however, it does shine a spotlight that’s there’s so much work to be done. 

The hopeful side of me is optimistic that the posts were triggering and the readers are off healing themselves. 

The truth is…examining ourselves and acknowledging the flaws, the shadows, and the ugly bits is hard, sometimes painful, work. It’s much easier to blame someone else, to point fingers and criticize one person or a marginalized group.  Without turning this into a pity party, I’ve been unfairly blamed for so many wrongs lately, I can hardly keep count. And it weighs on me. It hurts. 

This week, it was suggested I cite a few examples of what I’ve been struggling with.

My first thought was “I can’t do that”. I’ve bared my soul and you want me to go even deeper? As I took a few days to mull it over, I realized that many of us share similar struggles and talking about it helps me and hopefully you.

Since I was a child, I didn’t fit in with my family. I mean, sure, from the outside looking in, all probably looked okay but I was always considered the black sheep by my mother and sister. That feeling continued into adulthood and especially when my marriage ended. I was blamed for leaving my husband even though the cracks were obvious to most early on. I’m still paying the price with my family decades later. To this day, I don’t understand why.

And there have been serious challenges with adult stepchildren. I’m still hurting from that sting and I can’t talk about it yet. I’m not sure that I will. Suffice to say, it hasn’t been an easy month.

And then there was the U.S. election but I won’t be giving that any more oxygen.  It’s like something from a bad movie but I just can’t think about it. In Canada, our scapegoat for all the country’s problems is Justin Trudeau. He must have broad shoulders to take the brunt of the country’s anger and hostility when many of the problems he’s accused of creating are provincial and world issues. Trudeau is far from perfect, and people are clearly tired of him, but the Poilievre alternative scares the hell out of me. (Sorry editor, I wrote it). I’m really not trying to spark a political debate although I welcome differing views. I’m not so egocentric that I assume everyone accepts my opinions as their own. Nor should they. My point about Trudeau as a scapegoat is that there’s a lot of hurt and angry people in the world that lay blame anywhere but on themselves.

As my very wise yoga teacher told me earlier this week, “Let go of what you can’t control.”.  The world could really use a big hug but my arms can’t reach that far.  For now, all I can do is practice self-care that includes: meditation, journaling, being present, resting, reading a book, taking a break from the news cycle, spending time in nature, eating healthy food and hydrating myself, and doing yoga. Maybe it’s time to bring out the water colours again or start a jigsaw puzzle.

Oh yes… I forgot.  I’ll be sitting in front of my light therapy lamp for the recommended 30 minutes a day.  I didn’t buy the one the insurance company’s psychiatrist recommended.  It was big and awkward, much like their process.  My sweet hubby found me a cheaper, less bulky one, and although he’s never mentioned it, I think he noticed a negative change in my mood since the days got shorter.  The lamp definitely improves my Seasonal Affective Disorder.  

Every year in early October, our home fills up with cheery white lights scattered throughout.  I need them more than ever now because the world seems dark and things seem hopeless.  Don’t worry – I’ll be fine.  I just need some time to lick my wounds and process what’s happening in my world and I’ll be back with a vengeance. To help me along, I’m putting up the Christmas tree sooner than ever.  And you know what? That’s perfectly okay.  For anyone that tries to tell you different… just be you! It shouldn’t be a big deal to have a difference of opinion especially over Christmas decorations.

If I have any advice to give this week, it’s this.  Do what you need to do to keep radiating your light!  The world needs you more than ever.  We’re all hurting in our own ways.  Just don’t let anyone or anything, dim that brightness. Keep your light shining for the rest of the world to see.

I’d love to hear from you. Please comment on any articles that you find meaningful. Or send me an email. I promise to read and respond to every note.

Follow along with me on Facebook and Instagram. Share the articles you love with your social media friends.

Thanks for reading Disentanglement! Be the first to receive new posts by becoming a free member in community.