I chose to write about this topic today for several reasons. My vision is to illustrate how even in our weakest of moments we can transform a tragedy into a powerful, growth experience and how to do it. Four weeks ago, after suffering with cancer and diabetes, my father passed away. Struggling with deteriorating health for over 10 years, his life was finally overtaken by pneumonia. He and I were not exceptionally close; in fact, we argued a lot and rarely saw things eye-to-eye. However, aside from all the frustrations and anger I felt toward him, starting as a teenager, I am definitely my father’s daughter. My love for nutrition, wellness, adventure, new experiences, creativity, and seeing the universe as a complex, fascinating being all came from my dad. He always challenged me to think outside the box and not settle for what’s just in front of me. He always pushed me to figure things out myself rather than simply do it for me, and he repeatedly reminded me to never stop improving my mind, my heart, and my body.
My dad was a very proud man and I never heard him complain or not greet me with a smile through his pain. In our household, one of the number one rules was never talk about family troubles with outsiders. We suffered in silence. My mom always said it wasn’t good to talk about problems with others because we didn’t need their pity, judgment, or want them to feel uncomfortable or worry. This way of thinking carried with me throughout my adulthood and there were many, many times that I struggled and suffered in silence as a result of this. Until now.
I was in Monterey at Whole Foods Market when I received the voicemail message from Mom saying Dad passed away while in the hospital in Santa Rosa, CA. Nothing could have prepared me for how much my life would change from that moment forward. I knew people who had lost family members where I felt sorrow, sympathy, and expressed condolences, but it didn’t really go much deeper than that. I couldn’t relate to what their internal world was like. But at that moment sitting in the parking lot, I felt a complete sense of loss and loneliness never before experienced. I sat in my car for 45 minutes as the tears flowed and body shook fearing that it’ll never stop. The first thing I did was tell my boyfriend, Thomas, who immediately stepped up to let me know I wasn’t alone. I was truly grateful for him. The drive home was a nightmare, I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t even know why I was crying but it wouldn’t stop. All I knew was that I had to get home and into Thomas’ arms, the only place I would feel safe.
For the next three weeks, I was an emotional, depressed wreck. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball, cry, and hide. Hide from Thomas, friends, work, and family. The flood of memories flashing before my eyes, the idea of never seeing my father again, and realizing all the missed opportunities were all consuming. Even though hiding would have been the easy thing to do, I did something that was completely out of ordinary for my family. I told everyone I knew that my father died and the emotions were so paralyzing I couldn’t stop crying or get out of bed. I posted it in Facebook, I sent emails, telephone calls, and texts. My intention wasn’t for sympathy. I didn’t need people to feel sorry for me. My intention was for people to know the truth and see me for who I really am as a human being. I said to myself, “I’m not sure there are people out there who would want to know this is happening to me right now, but it’s real and I don’t want to hide what’s real.” It was hard to share a side that society looks upon as “weak, needy, and unattractive”. But I did it anyway.
The outpour was incredible. People with whom I had just met to those I’ve known over ten years expressed support, sympathy, and tenderness. I realized then that people did not see me as “weak”, but as a human being. I openly welcomed physical support, emotional tenderness, psychological guidance, and financial contributions from a community that I learned was much larger in size than I realized.
I discovered that my expression of humanness, gave space for others to share their humanness with me. Fast forward, five weeks later, today I have risen out of the darkness and into a light that is much brighter than ever before. This brighter light was the result of a bigger heart. Rather than close the heart to the pain, I opened it and allowed all of it to flow through me rather than stay stuck behind a wall. In turn, it pushed the heart walls of compassion and empathy to a larger, fuller existence. I see and feel things today with a greater sense of confidence and strength through my vulnerability. I am more honest with myself, and others, of who I am and what I’m about than ever before. By allowing people to see my humanness, my relationships have become stronger and closer. I don’t have fear of what people will think of me or how I will be treated when they next see me. It would have been easy to simply quit and surrender to the downward spiral of isolation, however, because of people’s support and kindness, I was shown that I wasn’t alone and actually belonged to a community that was greater than myself. And this community was here waiting for me.
The final lesson I want to share is in the power of attitude and perspective. During my grieving, I noticed people whom I hadn’t spoken to in over 5 years donate money to help with funeral expenses, and I saw people with whom I spoke to on a regular basis, not express any condolences or support of any kind. The automatic response was to resent and focus on those who didn’t do or say anything when I thought they should have. Then I realized I was judging their action as whether or not they cared about me and that made me feel worse. The truth is, their actions had nothing to do with whether they cared about me or not, but their own “humanness” being expressed. Some expressed support through emotional empathy, or through financial contributions, while others remained silent. I had no idea what people were going through or thinking and it wasn’t my place to think I did. So I reminded myself that my commitment was to being fully expressive and honest with who I am and for others to see that authenticity. I did that. Then in my new found level of compassion, what was arose was my purpose to acknowledge everyone in my community with gratitude for their way of being and not expect them to “prove” their love.
My strength came from acceptance of myself rather than the need to seek it from others. My relationships now are more real and honest with a heightened exchange of generosity and sincerity. I leave you with this gentle reminder that when you enter a tunnel and it gets dark, remember that it’s only a tunnel. Keep moving forward, don’t stop, and you will pass through it. I can say with true sincerity that I feel more power today in my core being to push forward to make this the best year ever than the entire 5 months combined!
Lana Sumati, Professional Coach and founder of Think Action Coaching, mentors women in business, self-employed or who have always wanted to be self-employed, who are tired of feeling stuck and held back by the recurring patterns that keep happening in their professional world to overcome and breakthrough the challenges to accomplish success. www.thinkactioncoaching.com
