An Epiphany about Grief

I didn't have an answer when she asked, "So how did you get through losing your Dad? No one has ever asked me that in the almost 10 years he'd been gone. 

And I forgot that just cuz someone asks a question about your life, doesn't mean you know the answer. 

I paused. I said I don't know. I said I went to therapy and smoked a lot of pot and had affairs with married men. Then I paused again and searched for how I actually got through it. The 'no, really Erica, how did you do that? Answer the girl'.

"I didn't get through it", I heard myself say. "It got through me. It did everything it could to transform me. Push me. Make me say yes when I want to say no. Make me say no when I want to say yes. The grief. It said, 'go home, my love', those 4 times I drove to my elementary school at 3am and waited at the child pick-up spot for my Dad. Because I was a fucking lunatic. Because what do you mean he's gone?  Because no I just want to talk to him one more time. I have a question." 

The grief. It's like an extra batch of intuition, on top of the intuition I was born with. It just knows stuff. Like, it knew to send me to art school so I could one day take pretty pictures for Instagram and decorate my home and my business in a life-giving way. 

It knew about the Institute for the Psychology of Eating and how I needed to study there. And heal there. It suggested I try yoga. Then it asked me to teach yoga. The grief. It said read this book. Talk to this guy. Call your mother. Call her again. It told me to go to an essential oil class and then make a career out of sharing them with people. Touching people. Reminding them they are worthy of love and belonging and physical touch. 

The grief. It's not grief anymore, actually. 

It's like, my "through-line". It's the connecting theme that follows my interaction with the world and my commitment to get out of bed each day. 

The grief. My through-line. This thing. I didn't get through it. It got through me. Or maybe it got through TO me? 

It'll transform you. If you let it. 

Grace & Peace,

Erica 

Friendship Hotline: Real Texts. Real People. Real Friendships.

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"Friendship Hotline, Erica speaking! How can I help you?"

Person who's just like you & me:

I have an old childhood friend that I haven't spoken to much in six months. We've been friends since we were little, always thought we'd be maid of honor in each other's weddings, etc. But it's not like that anymore. We've just lost things in common except for our spirit...just on extremely different life paths...

I harbor some ill will because in almost six months of living in my new apartment she hasn't asked how it is or congratulated me....yet she's gotten upset in the past for me not keeping the friendship alive and keeping in touch so that's made me not want to ask how she's doing---

yesterday I decided to extend an olive branch and text her to say I love the pictures she's posted recently and hope she's well yet I've received no response back and she's found the time to post on facebook. It just reaffirms to me how she is only interested in herself. "It just reaffirms to me how she is only interested in herself- she once posted a status saying she will no longer be answering people's texts because she receives too many. I'm examining my feelings and I feel annoyed and hurt but maybe she's not ready cuz she feels slighted by me like I do by her. Idk it's just always all about her.

And I wanna just say goodbye to the friendship and what it was because its easier and were two different people now but then I wonder well will I invite her to my future wedding because she's my oldest friend? Like idk---I'm just mourning the loss

My Response:

I hear you loud and clear. I pulled 2 bits that I want to shine a light on because they affect the rest of it:

1. "I harbor some ill will because in almost six months of living in my new apartment she hasn't asked how it is or congratulated me"

When we set expectations for people's behavior, based on what WE would do, we set ourselves up for disappointment and upset every time. It doesn't mean we shouldn't feel hurt by it, it just means that unless we make our feelings and needs known to someone, we don't really have anywhere to put those feelings if someone doesn't meet our expectations. (This goes for ANY relationship) 

2. "It just reaffirms to me how she is only interested in herself- she once posted a status saying she will no longer be answering people's texts because she receives too many"

Personally, if she posted something like this on Facebook, is her friendship "style" and her clear lack of value for friendship even in line with your values and what YOU'RE looking for in a friendship?

My philosophy is, move toward the people who move toward you. (I DON'T mean wait for others to show they love you before you show them back. NO NO NO. We definitely do not withhold love out of spite. Like, no.

I mean, despite any hopes, dreams and expectations for what friendship was going to look like, (being in each others weddings, etc.) look at the reality and move toward people who are making an effort to move toward you.

Perhaps it's not time to move toward each other today…?

Person who's just like you & me:

Wow yes I agree with all of this. I guess it's in my nature to want to give love and I've been trying to live out what you once said to me which is to not wait for people to move toward me or generate plans or cultivate a friendship and just do it if u want. So I have been, but I guess sometimes in doing that we can get disappointed in how someone reacts

My Response:

Yes. It's both. Nothing (especially relationships) is black & white!

Sometimes we extend the olive branch even if it's not extended back to us (WITHOUT expectations or resentment!)  and other times, we don't because we value people who also extend branches to us.

Person who's just like you & me:

It's hard to fluctuate between the two sides, you know? Because I like black and white a lot of the times....do u find it hard to not harbor resentment should you put yourself out there and not get what u wanted in return?

My Response:

Not anymore; I don't take things AS personal as I used to. And I'm more mindful about my intentions behind doing things. Like, am I doing this with an expectation of something in return? Or am I truly doing this out of my purest heart? 

It's not bad to want love in return! In fact, we must receive love in return for ours. But everyone's love language and values are different. When we set parameters around specific behavior that we expect from others, that's where we need to check our intentions in the first place.

Person who's just like you & me:

How did u get to that disciplined mindful place? I'm trying so hard now through reciting daily affirmations specifically regarding my romantic relationship but it's so hard to be mindful and honest w yourself and not just say 'fuck it I'm gonna do this and if they don't give me in return then fuck them.' But I know that's unhealthy. I'm trying to not be like that anymore.

My Response:

One day, one conversation, one situation at a time, girl. 

Nothing is permanent and we're just humans who have needs. 

I'm not any more disciplined than anyone else; I just don't make the time to suffer in my relationships (IN GENERAL). There is still plenty of suffering but it's more situation-based, not relationship-based. Meaning, things come up in healthy relationships that need to be addressed, but the relationship itself is healthy. The friendship is reciprocal enough for me. If it's not, well, then obviously the level and the type of friendship will naturally change into something else.

It can be organic and natural. It doesn't have to be "I'm just not gonna be like this anymore". That's too black & white for our precious and fragile little hearts.

I know your heart. I know where it all comes from for you, friend. and you're amazing just the way you are. You're enough, your love is enough and there's nothing about you that you need to "fix". You're not broken. We are all evolving and life/relationships are a process. No need to rush or drastically change the process! Let things unfold...

Person who's just like you & me:

Beautifully said....sometimes I wish I could hang out with you in person and hear this while looking at you, lol. I like coming back to these kinds of texts they make me feel good. 

My Response:

<3 I'm SO glad to hear this. I Love you. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

Person who's just like you & me:

Nope.

My Response:

Great! Thanks for agreeing to be here!

*END*

Comment below if you can relate or have any thoughts, questions, concerns, etc.!

Wholeheartedly,

Erica

My Condolences, with Love, from Afar...

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photo by Dino Reichmuth

I heard the sad, sad news today, because sad news travels fast and because I look at your Facebook from time to time. Not often, but sometimes. And I don't feel bad about it. It's normal to be curious.

My ego said, 'call him. It's okay to reach out, let him know that you know.' My fearful, impulsive ego said, 'these are extenuating circumstances. Tell him how very sorry you are for the loss of his Dad. Heck. Send flowers and a card. Do it.'

But, no; we don't do that, anymore. I don't do that anymore. Even though every fiber of my human existence wants to pick up the phone and send you my love and support, the truth is, compassion and condolences and courtesy and love really doesn't override seven years of purposeful silence.

So I will take this opportunity to love you from afar...

I am profoundly sorry for your loss. Though I too have lost my Dad, I do not know your pain. It is yours. It is unique to the experience of having been your Father's Son for thirty-one years. Your sadness is sacred; it holds so many questions and perhaps very little answers, today. And in those moments, after friends and family have returned to their homes and your Wife and sweet babies have fallen asleep, you may have the remarkable chance in those quiet moments to feel ALL the feelings in one fell swoop. Grief. Grief has a funny way of carrying wisdom we cannot see right away, yet it can sometimes pull us under, into the dark, hidden crevices of our own self, to sort through years of this and that and the other things.

Don't be scared, old friend; this is a process, and a beautiful one, if you let it be. Both you and your Father are on a very special journey together, now. A journey where he has the pleasure and the freedom to walk with you, talk with you and listen to you, in a capacity that just can't be done here on Earth. Bits and pieces of him now exist and will show up in different, unexpected ways. Maybe. I dunno. Probably. Yea, most likely.

Time and patience and love heals all things. You already know this, but I am reminding you.

If you ever read this, thank you; Thank you for knowing I'm not here to harm you and that my words are straight from my heart. Thank you for not being surprised that I'd write something like this. Thank you for knowing that loves exists, here; from my freshly manicured nails, to the keys on my Mac, to the screen, to your eyes.

Know that I'm not just writing this for you; I'm writing this for all the men, women, boys and girls who must learn how to love and support from afar. I'm writing this so they don't feel they have to contain their heart, but that they can, in fact, expand it, widen it, open it, even more so than if they actually reached out.

May you travel through this deep and powerful experience with Grace, Balls and God- my 3 favorite things. I wish you peace, strength and hope. I know your strong spine and your soft heart- you're going to be okay.

How lovely the opportunity to love you, support you, think of you, cry for your loss and ache for your family, from afar, really is...

Love, Love, Love,

E

**When your heart aches to reach out to someone from your past, it does NOT mean you need to turn your heart off. It means you get to find new and creative ways of expanding, extending and sharing it, while keeping the integrity of the relationship, however it stands, as well as your own dignity. Creative Writing helps me express love from afar. 

How do you love from afar?

Teaching Yoga After the Orlando Shooting

A letter to my students...     

"...exhale, Savasana.

       Relax your toes and your hips and your fingertips. Loosen your knees and ease your lower back. Calm your shoulders and slow your breath. Soften the skin on your face and lighten the thoughts in your head. Relax your whole body... Quiet your whole mind... Open your whole heart... Rest, here. Rest..."

Sweet Yogi,

While you lay in your Savasana, there are some things I'd like you to know...

When I became a Yoga teacher, I knew I'd have to adhere to particular boundaries; don't cuss, don't talk about God or the bible or conspiracy theories --basically, separate Church & Child's Pose. Don't talk about money or politics or sex or drugs or rock & roll- actually, rock & roll is okay in small doses (and, well, sometimes so are drugs. Never mind.) Easy enough. 

But then, you know, a mass shooting happens and innocent people die while celebrating their life. And things don't make any sense or resemble anything close to the Yoga I've come to know, value and understand. This week, in the wake of the Orlando tragedy, I was met with a hard question; What is my role, here, when bad things happen? Do I talk about the thing? Do I mention it? Theme my class around it? Certainly, and thankfully, I'm no cocky-cooky-ultra-almighty-patronizing-invincible-omniponent-supreme-spiritual Guru, but do I have a right and enough street cred to address the thing and, maybe, MAYBE, help ease your feelings about it for an hour?

Yes. I do. And I'll do it now...

       My trembling finger hovers over the 'play' button on my iPod. I press down. "Same Love", the instrumental version. The music draws over you like a weighted blanket and I can already sense the tension in your throat. I don't know if I want to massage you or lay down with you and fall to pieces in the presence of your yogic bliss. I imagine that would be quite creepy.

I'm about to take my usual stance at the top of your head and massage your temples and third eye and whatnot. But something, no, God, God tells me I need to look at you square while I touch you. My feet redirect and quietly straddle your torso, as I rub my Lavender-soaked hands together to let you know I'm here. I dance my hands over your nose. "Inhale", I say. You inhale, taking in the smell. "Exhale". I press down on your shoulders as you do and I, I see you in a way I haven't before. You're so beautiful. You're...love.. Words, thoughts, feelings suddenly race from my head, flood my arms and are now seeping through my fingertips, into your pores...

My fingers through your wild, sweaty hair; You are not alone.

Your face in my hands, You are safe, here.

My thumbs on your temples, I hear you.

My hands cradling your face, I see you.

My left hand over your heart, I take a stand for you.

My right hand rests atop my left, I love you.

I'm clear, now, sweet Yogi. I know my role, here; My role is to love you, to be equal to you, to see you, hear you. My role is to hold both of us to a standard of grace. My role is to walk you home when the world outside your mat is dark. My role is not to be the light, but help you find and illuminate your own. I can do these things with my voice, my hands, my body language.

No, I don't have to talk about the thing. I don't need to mention the horrific shooting during our practice. No elaborate theme needed, here. No performance. No GuruSpeak. Just simple, subtle reminders, details here and there, that your Yoga mat is a safe place to land. That there is a lot of good in the world. That YOU are the good in the world. That I am your safe place. That you are mine.

Namaste.

Artist: Colette Miller

"Try Another Door" A Darker Poem

Photo by: Rodion Kutsaev

“Try Another Door” by, Erica Jacobs

I am a dollhouse.

Mulberry wine paneling,

smooth, brown shingles,

crisp, white shutters.

Modest mailbox on my manicured lawn,

White, picket fence,

porch swing.

I don’t open from the front…

Try another door.

Ready, set, turn me around.

Do my outsides match my insides?

Spoiled, sour, stale

milk.

Cruddy, crazed, crushed

cookware.

Broken, busted, baby

dolls.

Jagged spider web mouths

hover over a chandelier.

Chipped, checkered floor,

now an ugly grey…

Try another door.

Smelly, soggy, stained

bedding.

Cracked, crooked, coarse

canopy.

Dusty, dingy, dirty

bedposts.

No one

wants to sleep here.

No one

wants to be here.

Try another door.

Dilapidated, damaged, decayed

figurines.

next to a

Slanted, severed, smashed

cradle.

Watery, wilting, wasting

wallpaper

behind

Dense, damned, destroyed

Bookcases.

Try another door.

Empty wooden rocking horse

calls out,

for one last ride.

Who did this to me?

How did I get here?   

Compartmentalized,

boxed,

broken,

dark

It’s hot in here.

Please

someone

open a…

Someone…

try…

another…