Closure . . . is that really a thing?

Time To Kick-Start Summer!

Memorial Day weekend is here, and for those of us in the charming villages of Saugatuck & Douglas, it’s the unofficial start to summer season . . . signifying all sorts of shifts.

My outdoor teaching kicked off this week in the most glorious of ways: a private on the lower deck at Lake Shore Resort. Full sun, bright blue sky, birds singing, Lake Michigan super calm, like glass, and four amazing humans. Yes, please.

You’ll find sign-up links for two special offerings in June at the bottom of this letter. I hope you can join me! 🥰

“If you are seeking a time when you will be finished,
​you will never be done”
~ Tibetan Saying

---

Words Worth Examining | Chapter 2
​Closure

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the word “resilience;” thank you for the many follow up conversations around this. Whenever I have the opportunity to listen to you, and hear your experiences, I learn and grow. 🫶🏽

Over the last couple of weeks, I have also been thinking about the word “closure.”

I used to think that’s what I wanted / needed / was striving for when experiencing grief.

Closure sounds so definitive and complete. And frankly, whenever I’m grieving, the thought of putting it all behind me sounds pretty darned good. Yes, I would like  to close that door, thank you very much.

Now I understand it doesn’t work that way. At least for me.

Four years ago, Mike and I were heading home from Traverse City. We had gone North for a few days of his spring break. On the drive home, while waiting to pull out of a gas station, we were nearly hit by a van speeding completely out of control.

Thankfully, I had a second to step on the gas and swerve out of the way. We were unharmed. But, the driver of the van was not so fortunate.

Just beyond the gas station, he smashed head on into a giant pole.

The driver was a paraplegic who was suffering from a seizure. The van was at full throttle at the time of the crash.

Because of our proximity, we were the first responders on the scene.

While I have a very clear memory of the challenging things that happened next, the harrowing details are not particularly relevant here.

After the driver was airlifted and the area was cleared, Mike and I got back into our car. This time as we were about to pull out, one of the sheriffs came to our window and asked, “Who was driving this car at the time of the accident? I told him I was. He said, “Well, you’re lucky. If the van had hit you, he (looking at Mike) might have survived. You most certainly would not have.”

Then, with kind eyes, he looked at me again: “And, you were the first one to be with   the driver?” I nodded.

“Are you in a profession where you’re used to dealing with this kind of trauma?” I half chuckled and told him that I taught yoga.

I’ll never forget what he did next. The Sheriff looked at me and said, “You did a lot here today.. And, while you might feel okay right now, that’s most likely the adrenalin.” He asked how far of a drive we had left. (Almost two hours.) Then, he looked at Mike behind the wheel and said, “You may want to stop in the next 45 minutes or an hour. Take a break. Get something to eat. Breathe for a bit. As the adrenalin wears off, she may not feel so great. She might even be nauseous.”

His trauma-informed approach and his compassion surprised me.

We took his advice. The stop, and the food, and the time out of the car? They helped. So did telling the whole story to some of my close friends over the next week or two.

After a few nights back at home, my sleep returned to normal.

I felt good about all the healing work I did around this accident.
Yep, I thought I had arrived at “closure.”

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago . . . more than four years after this accident. I’m relaxing and watching a fairly l0wbrow t.v. show on my own. Suddenly, there’s a car accident scene with a few details eerily similar to my experience. Instantly, I’m right back in that gas station parking lot. I’m cold, and shaky, and teary. Completely out of sorts and re-living the whole darned moment in my body and my being.

So much for closure.

In truth, this wasn’t my first “failed” attempt at closure. I now see grief, and pain, and trauma as more circular. Sometimes that circle moves in really close, and other times it’s cycling further away. But, it doesn’t magically close, or end, or get left behind.

I truly wish we had better ways to discuss and support grief. I know that grieving doesn’t follow a prescribed timeline, nor is it really linear at all. As much as I wish it could be true that each day could be a little better, this, most likely, is not reality.

One way to think of dealing with grief is understanding it to be more of a reconciliation . . . figuring out how to be with the grief. Reconciliation does not reward speed. It does not offer a neat and tidy resolution. Instead, it asks us to be with our grief and find ways to express it. Bottling it up? Ignoring it? None of that is going to work.

With reconciliation comes the opportunity to continue moving forward. Altered by our grief? Yes. Crippled by it? Not in the long term. As we integrate, and heal, the intensity of grief lessens. Or, at least the pangs will become less frequent.

At first, my t.v. watching moment seemed like a cruel twist of fate. Mike was at a gig, I was wanting to relax, and instead this sneak attack of stored trauma was unleashed. Then, I opened myself up. I allowed myself the opportunity to be present with that pain, so that I could further release and continue moving forward.

Honestly? I didn’t know I needed that cathartic moment, and I’m sure thankful for it.

Even though I wish we had better ways to talk about grief and help one another through it, I’m grateful for all the tools in my kit that help me find presence and regulate my own nervous system.

Next week, I can’t wait to share some super helpful techniques we can all use to help us “shift and lift.”

Until then, big love ♥️

~ m

P.S. Counting down the days until Theresa Gray’s arrival and grateful for the images of her beautiful paintings at the top!