Last month I was in Southern California to drop my daughter off for her junior year of college. Lucky for me, beloved friends I met in college still live in the area, so visits to SoCal always fill my bucket in more ways than one. After her work day, one of my friends invited me to go to an AKT class with her (she likes to try new fitness trends, of which there is no shortage of in Southern California!) I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I’m always game for a new physical challenge, so of course I said yes.
When we arrived, the instructor “Chelsi” personally greeted me and was dressed head to toe in 80’s exercise garb, including “Let’s get physical” splashed across her bodysuit. I smirked inside, remembering how Santa gave me that Olivia Newton John album in 5th grade. Chelsi informed us it was 80’s week, hence her “costume.” The class turned out to be a super high energy aerobics class that kicked my butt. Waayy harder than the aerobics classes I took in the late eighties and early nineties…or maybe it’s just that my muscles are now 50 years old! She cranked the 80’s tunes for the entire hour and taught us (not so) simple choreography the last half of class. Even though I was sweating bullets and gasping for breath, a huge smile plastered my face the whole time. When the disco ball sprinkled its shimmery lights everywhere for the “last dance,” joy was literally bubbling up inside me. The novelty, the familiarity, the music, the endorphins, the zero expectations….all of the above made me feel giddy in a way I hadn’t for a very long time.
Joy truly does show up unexpectedly. We just need to be ready and receptive.
Earlier in the summer that was not my posture. At all.
Regular readers may recall I resigned from my job of four years at the end of June. I joyfully anticipated my self-imposed “summer sabbatical” – a time to take a break, rest, and regroup. I envisioned having time and space to discern what was next professionally, spend quality time with my family, and do all kinds of fun outings and projects, especially opportunities available during Oregon’s fleeting season of sunshine.
Let’s just say my summer sabbatical did not materialize the way I envisioned. In many ways, it was the complete opposite of what I was expecting. I also felt guilty for possessing these expectations, recognizing my privilege to even have this opportunity. It still startles me, at midlife when I feel like I SHOULD know better, how unmet expectations of myself, people, and situations cause me distress.
I ruminated on this for a long time, one of my specialties, ha. While in California I was fortunate to have time to dig deep and reflect on the events of the summer and sift through my own crap. I needed to grieve the loss of my expectations. I needed to grieve and let go. I needed to let go and move on. It’s a process and often uncomfortable, this learning and unlearning.
As a culture we don’t truly understand or acknowledge grief in our lives. Grief is generally associated with devastation and dying, such as grieving the loss of a loved one’s death. But honestly, we have to own and grieve our personal losses.
Whenever we experience change, there is a loss of something. A loss must be grieved as part of the cycle of letting go and moving on. It can be rough, doing the soul work of letting go and moving forward when we are hanging in liminal space.
It’s important to remember that JOY and grief can (and do) exist side by side…everyday, sometimes in the same moment. My practice right now is radical acceptance. Reframing from “what if” to “what is.” I want to make space for joy, be ready to discover joy in the unexpected, in the little things. Like 80’s dance aerobics.
Yes, being open and curious to having the space to grieve and the space for joy is what it’s all about! Love this Jen!