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Love and Loss

• March 2014
• Hi Steph

Hi Steph,
I’ve been browsing your blog over coffee this morning, as the sun streams into my apartment, making it seem deceivingly warm outside. I live in rural New Hampshire, which I love, but the winters here definitely take over. It makes for more of an adventure though–we have to be a bit creative up here if we want to get out and make the most of the natural world. This afternoon I’m going ice climbing with my boyfriend, who is a fabulous mixed climber on account of the inconsistent winter weather here in NH 🙂 He would just as soon rock climb all year long, but alas, the frosty cliffs are just too slippery.

I only started rock climbing a year ago (ice climbing only for a season), but I’ve been very surprised with how it’s taken a hold of me. I’ve been searching for a sport that really resonates with me my whole life. As a kid I did the typical team sports, and while I loved the physical aspects, I was never drawn in. In college I found yoga, which I still do everyday, but for me it’s more about meditation and energy movement. Climbing is like…a different way of seeing the world and yourself. And others. And nature 🙂

Anyway, I suppose I’m inspired to share this stuff because I connect with what you offer all of us about yourself and your life on your blog. I’m 28, and a third grade teacher, and I feel like my focus at work is always trying to figure out how to help kids connect with themselves and their bodies/feelings/preferences. I feel like that is the most important thing in life–to be connected with yourself and what inspires you, and everything else will follow. I really sense this about you as an athlete and a person. What I love is that the connection, alignment, and joy come almost as a byproduct of just following one’s bliss.

I watched your video “We Share the Sky” this morning, and it was beautiful. I worry a fair amount about death of people I care about. In fact, it’s something that scares me more than anything. My boyfriend solos a lot, and as someone who doesn’t, I don’t (and can’t, really) understand the mindset or the idea of feeling comfortable and confident climbing without a rope hundreds of feet off the ground. So it makes me worry about him. I have had many inner talks with myself about releasing worry because I don’t have any control over what happens to him or anyone else.

This email is so long! But I’m wondering about your experience with that, and what it’s like when you choose to live after your partner has departed. Do you feel stronger, or connected with Mario in a different way? Does it change your perspective on life? I know these are personal questions, and I understand if they are painful to respond to. I suppose I just know that I am inevitably going to experience loss in this way at some point, but I am very afraid of how the process will feel to me.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for sharing your inspired life with so many people.
Warmly,
Emily

Hi Emily,
Thanks for writing to me; I appreciate it. It’s been almost 7 months since Mario died. I’ll be honest, I was shattered when it happened. I couldn’t eat or get out of my bed for 2 weeks after the nightmare of getting home from Italy. After that I forced myself to run and climb, and decided I would only do what I wanted to. I felt very lucky that my life allowed me to do that. When I thought about how other people stay strong to take care of their kids or show up at work every day, I didn’t think I would have been capable of that, so I was not super impressed with my fortitude. I realized I was fortunate to have created a lifestyle that allowed me to be shattered in peace, and I spent most of my time alone for several months, which was good for me. Everything I did was directed toward one thing: peace. Everyone is different. All the time, my goal was to be happy again somehow, though it did not seem possible initially. I figured I would give it a chance and see what happened. What helped me the most was the long emails and text message conversations I got from friends and friends of friends who had also experienced this and reached out to me: they were my role models, and they gave me hope simply by living happy, full lives. What helped me the least was reading online grief forums. They were extremely depressing and made me feel totally hopeless; my support and healing came from our community.

After 4 months, I regained the will to live. And at that time, I realized that I was actually happy again. I have learned so many things, I don’t even know where to begin. I learned I am capable of dealing with anything, and I learned that we don’t own anything in life, nothing stays forever. I learned to appreciate everything, even more than ever. I learned that there is a lot of love in this world, and we have a lot of love to give and experience; it’s never over. When love comes your way, you have to grab it, no hesitation. Time waits for no one, and your happiness is yours to create. I learned to quit worrying about the future–that is about the most pointless waste of time you can make 🙂 What you have is this moment, and you’d better cherish it like it’s your last.
Steph