Ride out the storm

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

With millions of people affected by super-storm Sandy on the US East Coast, President Obama declared a “major disaster” in New York state.

His advice?

“The most important message to the public I have right now is: ‘Please listen to what your state and local officials are saying. When they tell you to evacuate you need to evacuate.”

So my question to you: What does this mean for those of us who have lost a loved one and are going through a storm of our own?

What about when our emotions are turbulent and life feels like it has been turned upside down? We may feel trapped, struggling to breathe. We may feel stranded and alone. We may feel like life is not worth living, that there’s nothing more to live for. We think that perhaps the only solution is to depart.

Lets talk about our very own ‘evacuation plan’ for dealing with the loss of a loved one.

Making a departure

By ‘evacuation plan’ you may think we’re talking about departure in terms of moving out of town, or taking our own life.

No.

That’s not what we’re talking about here.

Doing a runner, moving out of town, turning our back on the storm is not the solution.

Nor is suicide. Nomatter how much it may hurt, nomatter how alone we feel, nomatter if nothing makes sense anymore — ending our own life is not the route we’re considering.

The ultimate evacuation plan

Our evacuation plan is of a different form.
Our evacuation plan involves riding out the storm.

There’s no need to run, there’s no need to die.
It’s ok to feel sad and hurt, and it’s ok to cry.

Our evacuation plan is different to the norm.
Our evacuation plan involves riding out the storm.

Step 1: Sit

Find a place to sit.

Move some things around if you have to clear some space on the floor and then sit there. Perhaps grab hold of a cushion or a pillow. Perhaps there’s a blanket in easy reach – wrap that around yourself.

You don’t need anything else. Just sit there.

Close your eyes and breathe.

And sit. Just sit.

And breathe. Breathe gently. Breathe gradually. Just breathe.

Gradually allow yourself to move into the calm, the quiet, the peaceful centre.

Gradually move into the eye of the storm.

Now lets sit together and ride it out. Lets ride out this storm.

Step 2: Take stock

Think about what you have in your life – what you have around you, what you have within you.

Start with the cushion you’re sitting on, or the blanket wrapped around you.

Consider the clothes on your back or the shoes on your feet.

What about the phone by your side or the roof over your head.

How about the people in your life who care about you so deeply – your family and friends, your neighbours and colleagues, your local community and those in distant lands, and me. I care about you – and if I care about you, then so many others do too.

We care for your warmth. We care for your happiness. We care for your safety and we care for your comfort. We care for your freedom and we care for your heart.

What about your virtues and who you are at your core. The world around you is touched by your warmth, inspired by your strength, melted by your smile.

When you are in the same room as me and you look me directly in the eye and show me that genuine smile, you offer everything that I could ever ask for, because you let me see you, the real you.

See yourself. Your real self. Take a good look at who you are at your core. Someone with great strength, great love, great care. Someone who is naturally here to serve the world around us. Someone who is responsible for their own calm, their own happiness – and loves it!

Step 3: Awaken

Now gently open your eyes, gradually stand up and look around you.

Notice how the storm is receeding. The tides are edging away. The chaos is getting calm.

That leaves you, with who you are, where you’re at, right now.

That leaves you, with your calm, with your peace.

That leave you, with your clarity of mind and warmth of heart.

You have everything. Everything worth living for.

This is your evacuation plan – your way out of the storm.

Get out of bed

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

There are some days that I just don’t want to get out of bed, but I’ve chanced upon something that guarantees I arise in the morning with zeal.

The warm comforting trap of the duvet

For some reason there are mornings when I feel shitty about myself yet all safe and warm wrapped up in the duvet. I tend to indulge in the comfort and can’t bear to face the world.

Perhaps I’m dissatisfied with who I am or the way I look. Perhaps I’m not challenged enough at work, or I feel disconnected from the people who matter to me. Perhaps I’m not keeping the promises I make to myself and so letting myself down and disappointing those around me.

Whatever the reason, on those days I feel horrible and just don’t want to get out of bed.

But here’s the thing – it turns out there’s a sure-fire way of shaking off that funk.

What I’m about to share with you, I don’t manage everyday, but when I do manage it, it makes the world of difference.

Arise from the delusion of comfort; Live to serve

There comes a point while I am gradually waking up that I start to think about the people in my life – those around me who I care about and who deeply care about me.

I think about who they are, where in the world they live and what they need the most.

I think about what they say and what is left unsaid. I recall the expressions on their face and the things they do.

It wakes me up, literally, to the important needs of the people around me.

It reminds me of how everyone is the same. How everyone craves love and how everyone has fears.

Then I think about who I am and what I have, right now, to offer that love, to heal the pain, to pacify their fears.

Magically, as my delusion of comfort starts to shift, my heart fills with energy and I look forward to waking up.

As I arise from my slumber and push my own dissatisfaction to the side, I realise that I ought to get out of bed.

Only then can I offer love. Only then can I pacify fears. Only then can I heal pain.

It’s only then that I can serve and only then can I truly live.

Good morning!

The carer’s role

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

Have you lost someone who depended on you for their well being?

Some people in life are natural carers. They behave towards others with great respect, care and love.

Others are faced with a situation where they are forced to be a carer for someone who needs their support, fulfiling their duty the best way they can.

I believe you’re the second type, gradually becoming the first.

The care giver

You may be the husband, who looked after his wife right through to the day she died.

You may be the father, whose daugher married into a family that lives far away.

You may be the mother who waved goodbye to her son who has left home for university.

Whatever your role, you are a carer, a care giver, the giver of love and support and comfort.

Preparing for goodbye

As the husband with the severely ill wife, you may welcome her death, thinking that it may stop her suffering. With no prospect of a cure, you may have adjusted to the idea of your dear wife dying.

As the father whose daugher is about to be married, you may welcome her departure, understanding that she needs to start her own family.

As the mother whose son is about to leave home to start university, you may welcome his progression, realising that he needs to study and commence his career.

Whatever your role, you are a carer, a care giver, the giver of love and support and comfort.

Feelings of loss

When we care for others and the time comes for them to depart, it creates an inevitable vacuum in our lives.

We may feel bewildered or guilty or dislocated.

We may feel lost and confused and hurt.

With their loss, we may feel that we have lost our role in life. But does it mean we’re no longer a carer?

Continuing to care

Whatever the loss, the caring need not stop.

Find someone, something, anything to pour your love into.

Find someone to care for, mend a broken heart.

The pain of loss gets a little softer, the warmth of your presence expands.