Author: WarriorLara

Grief can crush us. Grief, the emotional suffering we feel when someone or something we love is lost to us is devastating. All of us, at some point in our lives, are going to experience a loss that rocks us to our very core. Sometimes the complete twisted mess of emotions, from shock or anger to disbelief, guilt, and profound sadness we experience feels like it will literally crush us under the weight of it all. How we allow ourselves to feel our feelings, release them in some concrete way and allow relief to wash over us can have a huge impact on what this maelstrom of emotions does to us long term.

I believe it was 9 years ago today that my late husband, Russell, took a pretty fierce slide into the darker waters of a quiet, mostly hidden depression he had been in ever since his dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. It was 9 years ago today that his father, Wayne Peterson, died after a 4-year battle with cancer. Wayne was one of the smartest, gentlest, most loving people I’ve ever known. He also was the person Russell was closest to and his death was devastating for Russell. They were like two peas in a pod and could have in-depth conversations very few of us could keep up with. His death created a giant black hole in Russell’s life that he was quickly sucked into. Ultimately, I believe, it was a large factor in Russell’s death.

As public as I have been about my grief journey and as focused as I have been about finding new ways to release the enormous pressure of emotions that grieving pushed on me, Russell was that private and isolated in how he navigated his grief. I don’t judge him for that as we ALL handle our grief in the ways that work best for us with the tools we have. But, I did watch Russell grow quieter, become a workaholic, and make a whole lot of body-clogging choices with his food and alcohol choices. Attempts to talk with him and invite him to share were often futile. Again, all normal choices many of us make when we are in the depths of mourning. It was the reality that very little counterbalanced the dark for Russell that pushed him further into that dark. There were little bits of lightness at times but the loss of his father and best friend, and the swirl of emotions afterwords crushed him bit by bit by bit until he landed in the hospital for his own spiral towards death.

Perhaps it was witnessing Russell being crushed so completely by his grief and the isolated black hole he spiraled in that was part of why I became so public about my own journey. I know that early on, when I experienced the weight of it all, beginning to crush me writing and sharing my story was one of the biggest ways I could drastically relieve the pressure. It relieved pressure in the moment and each time someone commented on what I’d written or had a conversation with me about it, things eased even more. There were times when all I COULD do was write and share my musing because no words would pass through my lips. I knew I needed to get it out or I would never leave the dark.

I have come to believe it is the sharing of our grief, the refusing to stay quiet all of the time about what we are really feeling, and then finding ways to creatively express our grief (and all of the feelings that come with it) that bridge the gap between the dark hole and the light we dream of finding again. Writing, coloring, painting, vision boards, dancing, building things, moving our bodies, all of these and more are ways to allow the pressure of grieving to ease, even if only for a little while. If we do nothing, the weight just presses harder and harder making it nearly impossible to move. There are times we want to stay in that space and that is OKAY. There is healing there too. But if we are ready to allow more light into our life and ease the pressure, finding something creative to do each day can be the bridge we need to go from dark to light.

Each of us will need to find our own way. Each of us will need to decide when we are ready to try something new. Each of us will need to discover for ourselves what we need for our own healing. Each of us will need to create our own bridges to get out of the black hole crushing us and move into a lighter space where dreaming is possible again.

My invitation to everyone – find the things that help you create your bridge out of the crushing dark. I don’t ever again want to watch someone so crushed by grief & isolation that they leave this world themselves.

My hope is that all of us can find our way out of the black holes we land in and allow the light of healing to occur. And my deepest hope for each of us is that maybe, just maybe, we can meet each other on the bridges between the dark and the light so we do not have to walk it all alone. The light is waiting for us across the bridge.

GRIEF, GROWTH, GRATITUDE – Everything that I have written about and shared in the past 8+ years since Russell died has fallen under these 3 main words. Everything! These 3 weave together for me in an intricate dance in the shadow spaces of life – that mystical place between dark and light, hope and suffering, joy and sadness.

The clarity of this weaving has been sinking deeper in for me over the past few months as I’ve been weaving new dreams together of offering my coaching and my creations to those who need them. I’ve found myself pivoting a lot as I try out new ideas and become more honest about what brings me the most joy and connects most deeply with passionate purpose. Those pivots have been fun but can also leave me feeling a titch overwhelmed and tired as I dig deep, learn new tools, and clear away what no longer serves. In those tired times, I feel like chucking all of the ideas I have for coaching opportunities and products designed to awaken more peace and joy for people who might desire it.

Well over the weekend, two women sent me just the Warrior Woman love bursts I needed to remember who I am and what I am capable of. And they had no idea that’s what they were going to do as they followed their own journeys that led them to create magic for me. Cindy A. Brown and Wendy McEowen Macdonald conspired together to create charms for me that were filled with meaning, purpose, hope, with connection to more. They took words that they pulled from their knowledge of me – dream, believe, warrior, arrow, Wonder Woman, pride, rainbows, archer, warrior, arrow, sun, moon, family, dream, penny hello, horses, joy – and they spun MAGIC!

Cindy is the woman who my Willow came from 10 years ago. Because of her, the Avalon community was able to give me one of my favorite presents ever. She and I have stayed in touch over the years but have only ever met in person that one time we got Willow. Wendy (a new FB friend) and Cindy have known each other for a while. When Cindy heard about the amazing artful pieces Wendy makes in her business “Angel Manes & Tales”, she thought of me and commissioned some things for me. The proceeds go to Reigning Grace Ranch in Arizona where Wendy volunteers. The hair on the charms she made for me comes from one of the special horses there – Secret, who was considered to be a protector and warrior for all who knew him.

The weaving of these beautiful charms, the penny from the year Russell and I were married, and the loving souls of these women is a gift that is bringing me great joy. I am in awe of all they did to create this and cannot thank either of them enough for what they have shared with me. It all came at the perfect time to help me keep activating my dreams and my plans.

Thank you Cindy and Wendy for sharing these gifts and your souls and your hearts with me. I am honored to receive such sacred gifts from you.

WOW! JUST WOW!

Lara 💟

#griefgrowthgratitude #sharingjoy #grateful #pennyhello #heartgifts #allowjoy

Today is National Widow’s Day. It also, according to my FB memories, is a day that I seem to announce some new leaps or steps toward new things I am making every year. (More about this in my next post.) First a bit about Widow’s Day.

We, widows, don’t need a day in order to remember we are widows. Believe me, we are aware of that every day. Even when the first years of shock & constant reminders ease, there is rarely a day that goes by that most of us don’t remember. Sometimes we may forget as we move forward into new dreams and lives separate from the life we had with our spouse. But, we always know – we are widows.

What this day can be for many of us, or at least it is for me, is a day to remember other things.

It’s a day to remember that as alone as we may feel, we aren’t alone and there are thousands of others out there who can say “In your story is my story.” We can know there are others who get it & there is comfort in that.

It’s a day to remember we are far stronger than we ever thought possible. It’s a great day to take stock of all of the millions of things, big & small, we have learned to do on our own.

It’s a day to remember that from the ashes of our lives can come a Rising. There can be new, bold, and bright dreams we never imagined dreaming. There is great hope in those dreams and great power in our dreaming. And there can be amazing new freedom as we gain new wings and start to fly again.

It’s a day to remember how very far we have come, even if we are newly widowed. I remember those first days of having simple tasks like taking a shower and making my coffee leave me feeling like I’d run a marathon. All I wanted to do every single day was hide in my house, under covers, with my kids, watching sitcoms. And some days we did, which was perfectly okay. Now, I still love my house and my covers, and my kids. But we are more likely to play games and do things outside and live a life not hidden away.

It’s a day to remember my life before I was a widow and was a wife of a living person. It’s a day to remember Russell, our life together, and all we dreamed of. It’s a day to smile at those memories.

It’s a day to stand tall, inviting all of my fellow widows to do the same, saying “I am worth being seen for who I am in all of my pain and all of my hopes. I am worth loving myself right where I am and dreaming of what more I can allow in that brings me joy.”

I am a widow and I am proud of who I have been, who I am today, and who I will be.

Hugs to all of you widows out there who are finding your own way. I see you. I hear you. I believe in you.

Lara

www.larapeterson.com

We don’t always notice the strong ones. Or more accurately, we sometimes only notice their strength and the way that they seem to keep going no matter what is happening to them. We watch them keep going, keep smiling, keep striving, keep standing and we shake our heads thinking “How do they do it? They always seem okay. That could never be me.”

As one who has walked through far more than I would ever have imagined I could, with people often commenting on how strong I am, I can tell you that we keep going because we simply must. And I can tell you that there is so much that you don’t see. Even with me who has shared so much of my journey with grief and loss and letting go, there is so much that you haven’t seen. The underground river of emotions has knocked me off my feet and left me wondering if I can continue so many times.

For me, it’s not because I think showing you the harder pieces is something I shouldn’t or can’t do. It’s that by the time I have found the words to describe how dark and scary and out of control I have felt at times, that time has passed and the words are simply my own. But today, for whatever reason, the words flow and I find I need to share.

After I turned over the ownership of Avalon Horse Farm in the summer of 2019, I knew there would be a period of grieving letting go of that space and that dream. I knew that it would take me a while to untwine all the parts of me that I had woven into the fabric of that business and that community. How could there not be when what I created was more than a horse farm? It was a lifelong dream realized of a sacred space for horses and their humans.

What I didn’t know was the depths of grief & healing I would enter into. I didn’t know that all of the unhealed parts of me still moving through things from Russell’s death would come flying into the mix. I didn’t know how much I had “set aside” as I managed a large farm community and prioritized my kids’ healing needs. I didn’t know that my breath could be sucked out of my lungs any more than it already had been during the early years of mourning after Russell’s death. I didn’t know that simply being around people who were farm friends & treasured parts of my community would make my heart hurt so much as I figured out how to relate in new ways. I didn’t know that being strong meant I would feel I needed to be silent in my grief, because I chose to walk away from Avalon towards something ambiguous new dream thingy. I didn’t know that the silence I imposed on myself out of some silly notion that grieving a place as deeply as I did was foolishness would slow down my ability to move through my emotions rather than get stuck in them. And I definitely didn’t know that the grief I would experience letting go of Avalon would twine up with new layers of grief about Russell.

I spent months and months and months just feeling it all. Only a very few folks saw the pain within the “strength shield” I wrapped around myself. Outside I showed more of the “this is what I am dreaming of and what I am creating” energy – the strong one. Inside I was weeping and doubting and second-guessing and running away and beating myself up for “dropping” people because my grief was so strong & confusing and struggling to give myself restful, patient healing space. Like I said before – an underground river of emotions!

It took me probably a full year before I fully understood what I was walking through. It was a full year of unintentionally pushing people away. It was a full year of questioning my “right” to grieve the letting of Avalon. It was a full year of untwining the dreams for my life from the dreams Russell and I had when we said yes to Avalon. It was a full year of feeling swirly, overwhelmed with emotions, and often confused. It was a full year of continuing to dream of more & different for my life without the true emotional energy to open the doors to the new things waiting for me. It was a full year of “being strong” while also quietly hoping people would see behind that strength shield, or wall, and simply say “I see you & I am here & you don’t have to be strong right now.”

Today, I can honestly say that with the help of friends, family, and my own life coach, and tapping into all of the energetic processing tools I’ve picked up over the years, I am in a really, really good space. I’ve gotten a lot better at letting down my strength shield before it becomes a wall to others. I’ve gotten a lot better at not questioning why am I feeling this way and instead asking what message this feeling has for me. I’ve gotten a lot better at asking for help when I don’t feel strong but I am projecting that. I’ve gotten a lot better at allowing others to handle their own healing & not expecting myself to be their strength too. I’ve gotten a lot better at loving myself right where I am and trusting each step of my journey.

For those of you who have people in your life who always seem strong – See them! Be there for them! Let them know it’s okay to not always be strong!

For those of you who are the strong ones – I see you! I am here! You don’t always have to be strong!

I believe we can learn to dance in the shadow spaces between the dark and the light of our world, weaving them together into a glorious life dance.

I believe we all deserve a fresh start as often as we need one. Every single moment is an opportunity for a new layer of awareness.

I believe we can fall and get back up again and again and again.

I believe we all need someone to walk alongside us at times in our life that feel more dark and overwhelming.

I believe trusting ourselves comes by keeping promises to ourselves.

I believe in the power of community to create our best lives. If I could create the life I want by myself I would have done it by now. I need others for accountability and support.

I believe that all of us are worthy of saying YES to ourselves before we pour everything we have into others.

I believe we all deserve to have lovingly fierce cheerleaders in our corner who help us believe more deeply in ourselves.

I believe in the power of dreaming and taking action inspired by those dreams.

I believe in YOU!

Lara

P.S. Email me if you want to hear more about my coaching services.

#lifecoachingforwomen#lifecoach#soulcoaching#Dreamweave

What do you see in this picture? Do you see a field of weeds? Or, do you see a field of wishes? Me? I see a field of wishes at the magical time of sunset. And that lights me up with the joy of possibility.

All of us look at the world through a lens of our own making. It’s a lens created by our past experiences, our present reality, and our dreams for our future. We notice what fits into the current story we are telling ourselves about what the world has to offer us. We can look at the same thing – like this field at sunset – and tell a very different story about what it is about. It’s not about one being right or wrong, it’s about perspective.

Our perspective – the lens through which we look at the world – is shaped by our experiences, upbringing, and cultural background. It can also be shaped by the media we consume, such as news outlets, social media platforms, and entertainment. It’s essential to be mindful of the sources we rely on to form our opinions and seek out diverse perspectives. Understanding perspective is a continuous journey that requires constant self-reflection, empathy, and a willingness to learn.

The ability to shift our perspective, to choose to try looking at the world through a different lens – can also lead to personal growth and development. By challenging our beliefs and assumptions, we can broaden our horizons and develop new insights that can help us navigate the complexities of the world. It’s important to acknowledge that our perspective is not the only valid one. By recognizing the validity of other perspectives, we can create a more inclusive and tolerant society that values diversity and fosters mutual respect. Throughout it all we can also find personal healing and hope in ways we might never have imagined.

Just because I see this field of dandelions as a field full of magical wishes, it may be a field of weeds to you. And that is okay! I don’t need you to understand it differently for me to believe in the magic I see there. What do you see?

This musing was originally written in May of 2017. I find that I still often live & dance in the shadowlands of life. There is magic in this space, healing energy here. It is because of my ability to live & dance in this space that I am better able to help others as they learn how to live & simply breathe here.

I live now in the shadowlands, that space between the light and dark of the world. I can see things that others cannot see. I can hear things others can’t hear. I can feel things others can’t feel. I am wiser, older, and more real now. I am awake to things that much of the world sleeps through every day.

One would think, looking from the outside in, that the shadowlands would be a place of less color, everything muted. But I find it to be filled with brighter, bolder colors than the “real” world. Nothing is muted because all is seen as it could be. The shrouds of our perception of how things should be are pulled away here in the shadowlands. Light infuses all things. Dark infuses all things. There cannot be one without the other. The holding of opposites is where the work of grief & opening to hope lies.

I would wish you all of the love that rests deep within my heart.

I would wish for you the quietness of a sunny summer morning to warm you on your darkest days.

I would wish for people to surround you who love you and are willing to listen to your story for as long as you want to share it.

I would wish for moments of joy that surprise you more and more often.

I would wish for the courage to stand strong in who you are now while gently remembering who you used to be.

I would wish for you an end to the sadness that creeps and crawls throughout each and every one of us.

I would wish for a full night’s sleep, night after night after night.

I would wish for you to feel the power as you regain your strength to walk in the world.

I would wish for laughter that starts deep in your belly and completely takes over your entire being.

I would wish for the sweetest, most embracing of hugs.

I would wish for you a novel that takes you away into another world even if only for a little while.

I would wish for you such a firm belief in yourself that you truly saw yourself as a warrior, capable of anything.

I would wish you a break from the pain.

I would wish for you a snuggly puppy or kitten that treats you as if you are the most important thing in their world.

I would wish for you long conversations that feel easy and light.

I would wish for you a heart that is once again whole.

I would wish for you time in your favorite place.

I would wish you the knowledge that you are always doing the best you can in every, single given moment.

I would wish for you, gentleness as you walk a lonely path of grieving and healing.

I would wish you light, joy, healing, and the deepest of peace.

I would wish you love, love, love.

Lara

Written in June 2017