The Power of a Reflection Day
The past week has been a whirlwind of celebration. Our daughter graduated from the University of Washington with two undergraduate degrees: a Bachelor of Arts in French and a Bachelor of Science in Astronomy and Physics. We were fortunate to attend all three departmental celebrations before joining thousands of families at Husky Stadium for the University’s 151st Commencement.
The only moment Ajax popped into my head was when Dubs, the U.W. mascot, an Alaskan malamute, walked across the stage with his graduating female handler and down the purple carpet to the murmured delight of all the students.
The Turning Point
Less than two hours after commencement, I heard that little fear voice I call Gooky whispering, “Okay… what’s next?” I’ve been hearing it often over the past six weeks. This time, I was ready for it. What I’ve come to understand since Ajax’s passing is that uncertainty creates a vacuum that Gooky tries to fill with worry.
Instead of following the worry, I simply recognized it for what it was: my brain trying its best, to protect me from future pain, but with an outdated survival system. On its heels, a more healing thought appeared: “I need a Reflection Day.”
Not a productivity day. Not a planning day. Nor a “help my daughter find her next path” day.
A Physical Metaphor
What seems to be calling me is the front hallway, the tile floors, the backyard pond that accidentally drained overnight, and my dresser drawers. Simple places to tidy while my mind catches up with my heart. I am making space for the next chapter.
Before starting anything else, I want to honor what has just ended. While my body craves movement, my mind and spirit are demanding reflection. My daughter and I seem to be on a parallel journey, albeit decades apart. Mine, a life without Ajax’s physical presence, trying to figure out how to carry his legacy forward in spirit. Hers, without structured, formal education for a year, carrying forward her keynote’s message of serendipity and my spiritual coach’s breadcrumbs of energy.
An Invitation
June is a month of long daylight. Of celebrating fathers. Of school ending. For us it also included the loss of two beloved pets fifteen years apart. Has there been a chapter that has just ended in your life? Before asking, “What’s next?” try asking, “What deserves to be honored before I continue down the next path?”
Then create one small act that reflects your transition. It could be journaling. An outing. Cleaning a drawer. Donating clothes or pet food or toys. Rearranging a workspace. Anything that says, “I’m making room for what’s coming.”
There’s always a strange silence after a major life event, whether it’s a promotion, job loss, birth or death, graduation or termination, or even a move. It’s in that quiet that the mind begins asking, “Now what?”
Perhaps the answer isn’t “figure everything out.” Maybe instead, it’s “reflect first.” This morning I did so on a birding walk by myself, with Angel Ajax and a “courage” rock in my pocket. I don’t have all the answers, but I have resilience and confidence that my daughter and I will find our way.
