Facing the Grief

My trip to Japan to hopefully see my mother is still pending as I await the visa issuance. The lady at the Consulate General window was sympathetic as she read my reason for the trip on my application form, yet she could only tell me it would take one week up to a month. Even though I have a flight booked for this weekend, it doesn’t look like I’d be flying yet.

While I continue to take the next indicated action, I have so much on my mind on things in my life alone on top of all the things in the world I care about. Business is good with clients I’m actively working with while I’m building a business brand as a “green home advisor / real estate professional” with a coach. And I have an opportunity of a solo exhibit of my photography at the Americana in Glendale, which literally fell on my lap, as a part of the diverse artists exhibits, to open in a few weeks. And Kenny, my husband needs a surgery on his shoulder. “Wow,” some friends uttered hearing my woes, “when it rains, it pours!” Although I’m not sure if that would be how I’d describe, it does feel like a lot if I pause to think about it.

In a way keeping my mind so busy with all the things to “figure out” is probably my defense mechanism of avoiding my feelings. Unlike when my kitty, Nicola, was declining and ultimately passing away, I haven’t had a chance to really feel into the eminent loss of my mother. Having the distance and time from her, it’s hard to grasp the grief viscerally. And I’m terrified that I will have to face it alone in quarantine when I get there.

I’ve learned through my meditation practice to let go of the thinking mind as often as can, especially when I notice that the mind is caught in whatever stories I’m following. When I can successfully let go, I find solace in the momentary emptiness, and the grief doesn’t seem so scary.