Sticking to that commitment

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

Sticking to a commitment is important.

Until recently, I have been rubbish at sticking to my commitments. I’m still not all that great now, but am improving.

This morning I had a bereavement support visit planned for 11am. At 9.30am I looked outside the window, saw the snow falling and settling on the ground and reconsidered my half-hour walk each way.

After deliberating on it for a few minutes, I called the client, suggesting we postpone to the following week. I could immediately hear disappointment in his voice. He explained how he had psyched himself up for the session (it was our very first session), “but hey”, he said, “it’s not as bad as other things I’ve been through recently”. His wife had died a month earlier.

That sadness in his voice woke me up to my own selfish intentions… and melted them. I was so much more concerned about my own comforts that I had forgotten about his pain, his needs, his suffering.

I decided there and then that I would make sure I got to that session, come rain, shine or snow! Yes it was a half-hour trek in the snow, and yes I was frozen when I reached there, but the session was worth it. I placed someone else’s need above my own and it felt damn good.

Commitments are so important

Nomatter how crappy we may be feeling inside, we have no idea what impact not sticking to a commitment will have on the person we have promised to meet or do something for.

It could have gone so many ways. He may have given up hope in support from others. He may have got angry and complained to the organisation that I represent when making these visits. He may have drowned his sorrows (with alcohol) and hidden from the world.

On the flip side, it was an effective session for him and certainly a valuable experience for me.

What’s more, it shook me up to my priorities, what’s important to me and doing the work that’s important. I feel a great sense of purpose in bereavement support work and this morning’s deliberation not only made me act unprofessionally… it took away something that is so important in my life.

So when I took that leap and decided to make that trek in the snow to keep my commitment, all the right stuff fell back into place.

As time moves forward, make fewer commitments (focusing on the important ones) and then stick to each of them. The world will be better for it.

Losing a second child

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

It’s difficult enough losing one son. But to lose a second to the same medical condition — that’s not easy for any mother to deal with.

Earlier this week I spoke with the mother of a classmate who passed away. Her son was a decent guy, a talented musician and got on well with most people. When I read about his death in the school magazine, I attempted to make contact with his family via the school. His mother called me back.

My friend was 31 years old when he died. I had last spoken with him 15 years ago, but had lost touch with him since leaving school.

His mother explained that when his younger brother died due to the same medical condition, my friend’s health suddenly deteriorated too – almost as though he had given up hope.

But today’s post isn’t about hope or regaining lost hope. It is about the painful reality of a mother’s second loss.

So here we are, a mother who had lost two sons. There is of course a third son who lives, the eldest son. Some may indelicately state that “at least you still have him, your eldest son” — but that doesn’t make it any better. That doesn’t make the loss any less.

Some may say “at least both your sons are no longer suffering” — but that doesn’t make a mother’s loss any less either.

Others may still fumble “ok, it’s time now for you to get on with your life and make the most of what you have left” — but a mother’s loss takes time to deal with, to live out its course in its own natural time.

I’m reminded of the mother of another school friend (a friend who passed away in a car accident almost a decade ago). Since then she has become a grandmother, twice. But it doesn’t take away the loss of her son.

Family events will come and go. Families will expand and grow and transition through bad times and good. But a son lost will never be forgotten, nomatter how much outside forces may insist it should.

My thoughts right now are with all the mothers who have raised and lost. Lost through distance. Lost through misunderstandings. Lost through death.

A mother’s loss doesn’t get easier, regardless of how many times she experiences it. I hope that the suffering mothers in the world around us find some comfort and courage to feel lighter, to grow stronger, to live with love.

New beginnings

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

“O Ahura, rise within me,
grant me steadfastness of purpose.
— The Atash Nyaish prayer, the Zoroastrian Gathas

Welcome to the new year, to a new start, to a new beginning.

The past year has been one of ups and downs. Many many ups, and just as many downs.

A year filled with gains and pleasures and delight. A year also filled with loss and pain and sufffering.

The year just gone has taught this for sure: all that we gain in the world around us, we will inevitably lose.

And that’s ok – that’s the nature of the world around us.

So let me salute this new year, this new beginning.

Let the year ahead have fewer ups and fewer downs.

Let me hold on less to what will inevitably go.

Let me uncover that which this precious life is.

Let the year ahead be one of purpose, of calm, of clarity.

Let the year ahead be one of peace for family, for friends, for colleagues and our neighbours.

Wishing you a happy, peaceful year ahead.