Sadness upon me…

Sadness has been upon me. I am not going to lie, last week was a tough one. There were various moments, hours and even a few full days where there was a heavy and almost lethargic melancholy upon me. At times, when I got pulled into my mind, it felt  too much. However, when I stayed with the physical, or somatic, experience of the sadness, I felt compelled to take care of the weight that I felt in my heart.

Luckily, the end of my week found me up in Ards, Donegal, where the sea, mountains and forest was able to hold my grief, while the Franciscan retreat centre provided the space for rest. In between meetings, I found myself taking a few wee naps, along with getting myself out into the land where I was able to touch in with the wandering light as it brightened and faded with each passing gust of wind.

Like my grief, the light  was anything but still. It’s shade and shine drifted across the land, which seemed to welcome whatever hue came its way. This got me reflecting on how it might be if I could welcome the many shades of sadness that were passing through my own internal landscape with the same trust that the land seemed to have.

It’s natural to want to resist pain. I mean, who doesn’t? But what I have come to know is that when I resist, not only is there a heaviness, but the tightness and the fizziness of stress and even anxiety can start to seep in, causing a restlessness that robs me of simply being with my grief so that my body can process it. Studies have shown the connection between emotions and the body, highlighting that the suppression of emotion can lead to physiological stress. Letting yourself feel emotions physically helps the nervous system process and settle them (sometimes we need to do this with the help of a therapist, other times we can use other supports, such as a mindfulness practice or nature).

This is where the land helped me. Not only would I watch the passing light from my window, but I walked the land and allowed the sounds of birdsong, crashing waves and the air hitting my skin to soothe my body and my nervous system and hold my exhaustion. Being in the land also helped me stay away from the storylines that were adding to my grief. The shifting veil of light moving across the hills called to me to look up and to take it all in. It was as if it gently presented me with the bigger picture. What a blessing and privilege it is to be alive! Slowly, I could feel energy start to build as my mind and heart broadened in perspective. In the end, my grief passed and I find myself writing these words with a renewed sense of gratitude.

We all have the ability to stay with the somatic experience of difficult emotions; however, the problem is that sometimes it can feel overwhelming if we couple our attention with the stories that accompany them. If we do manage to sense into the tightness and heat of anxiety/ anger or the heavy slowness of sadness and grief, we can notice how the mind is contributing and take a moment to connect in with three things we can feel, see, hear, or smell. This is where nature can be helpful. It enlivens the senses and pulls us out of our minds and into our bodies.

If there is no nature around us (even an open window will do), we can use the breath to bring us into the somatic experience. Simply take three slow, deep breaths to bring us into the body, where we can notice what needs attending to. Then with a kind heart and warm eyes, we might be able to take care and allow the emotion to pass, like dappled light drifting over hills.

I won’t be at the Sanctuary’s Tuesday morning online sit as I have a commitment calling me away. However, my dear friend Dr. Tony Bates will be there to lead all those who would like to sit in community.  

See you next week!

-Jane