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This morning I looked at the four partly-read books on my desk: “Going Home: Finding Peace when Pets Die” by Jon Katz. “How to Heal Your Metabolism,” by Kate Deering.”Learning to Trust Yourself” by Tama Kieves, my spiritual coach. And “Cody Harmon, King of Pets,” a fun, easy middle-grade novel by Claudia Mills. When I distill them into a word each, I realized I had my blog title for this week, as it summarizes perfectly exactly where I am: Grieve. Heal. Trust. Play.

Grieving: What Still Hurts

Last night, following a full day of work and eight straight losses at the family card game, Nuts, I retreated to the bedroom for some reading time. When I opened to the introduction of Katz’s book, I couldn’t stop the onslaught of fresh tears and quiet sobs. Outside my bedroom door, ordinary family life continued.

Even within spitting distance of loving family members, I found myself in that strange solitude of deep grief, wondering if anyone else could possibly feel this much pain. And wondering when it will ever go away. I realize that grief is intensly individualized, even when we’re surrounded by people. I’m also getting tired of writing about it. Which is why this blog feels different.

Healing: What Helps

Between last night and this morning, I realized that healing isn’t “getting over it.” It’s finding what helps.

What actually helps me inhabit my life today? That’s fairly easy for me to answer. Walking in fresh air. Visiting mountain trails. Listening to birds singing. The sound of water. – either in my back yard, streams, rivers, or gently lapping lakes. Connecting with family or close friends. Reading an upbeat, hopeful book. And maybe even helping other people. I cannot solve their problems, but I can bear witness and help them find the courage to be themselves and find their own answers.

If you’re in a grieving state – as many of my readers appear to be – know that you are not alone. See if you can notice those places where you find yourself coming back to life, even if only a little. Maybe it’s immersed in a hot relaxing shower. Or sipping tea at a cafe while watching people. Digging your toes into warm sand until you find the cool layer underneath. Stroking something soft.

Trusting: What I’m Learning to Listen For

I’m doing my best to trust my life experience over the “should” script in my head. My most recent struggle has been over finding an epic outing for my birthday next week. It’s been driving me crazy that I still don’t have solid plans, but I’m trying to embrace a birth week or perhaps an entire year over one day or weekend. A birthday adventure should be impressive, but holding that framing has paralyzed me. Too many possibilities actually immobilize me.

What I need is a structure that creates room to playfully explore. A script, an old message through years of “should” and outside influences, dictates what I should find, feel, or experience. But what if it’s already happened?

Case in point, one of my Tuesdays with Court hikers thanked me for providing a consistent outlet, advice, and support where she could grow in confidence, endurance, and enjoyment on the trails. That has been my underlying objective since starting “Tuesdays with Court” informally 2.5 years ago. More formally I’ve been holding it through the Mountaineers as part of the structured Conditioning Hiking Series (CHS). On a morning when I’d just grieved another loss, Big Bear bald eagle icon Jackie who died ten days ago at the age of 14, her words were like balm for my soul.

Her words revealed the thread running through everything I do: by moving in nature, somehow, nature helps us move through life.

Playing: What Pulls Me Forward

And for over 100 days, nature has been the balm soothing my soul and pulling me forward. But now it’s become more than just nature. I’ve been adding a few birding outings. Walking to Little Free Libraries and neighborhood pea patches to see what I can find. Taking a color cut-out of Miles Marmot (remember Flat Stanley?) on my urban rambles or Mountaineers hikes along with the photograph I carry of my Angel Ajax.

Yesterday as I tried to identify a suitable birthday outing, I realized that, sure, I’m always up for a physical challenge. But more than that, I’m seeking new trail segments or ways to combine those I know. I’ve identified two possibilities: an out-and-back on the Tiger Mountain Trail from the south, linking new-to-me sections to familiar trails. The other, Thompson Lake and Mt. Defiance but starting from the Granite Creek Trailhead instead of Ira Spring, adding the lake-to-peak section I haven’t done before.

But the elements that stood out the most were NOT what I expected. In addition to wanting water (available on the Thompson Lake option) and shade (available all along the TMT) I’m actually looking for surprise. Discovery. Adventure. Novelty in the form of wildlife and birds – even the same trail is always different depending on who I’m with, what the weather is doing, and the season I travel. I realize these elements may not be frivolous extras. They may be things I need emotionally and spiritually.

While I cannot guarantee I’ll never write about grief again – after all, it’s only been 100 days – I am noticing that play is sparking alongside it. I am still grieving. Healing. Learning to trust myself.

And I’m playfully curious again.