On RBG and grief…
BY THE TIME I FINALLY PUBLISH THIS, IT WILL BE 1 WEEK - ALMOST EXACTLY TO THE DAY - SINCE I HEARD THE NEWS
Much like 9/11, or the death of Princess Diana, I will forever remember where I was when I heard that Ruth Bader Ginsburg #notoriousRBG died. Cuddled up in my bed with my little one, watching Magic School Bus on the iPad, my phone buzzed and I picked it up to a news alert. My stomach fell. I immediately started crying. I couldn’t figure out, for a few days why it hit me so hard… it’s partly why I have been sitting on this blog post, picking away at bits and pieces of it but not finishing it, for a week.
I mean - she was 93. I never met her - I didn’t know her personally. She wasn’t exactly famous in the way that a movie star is. But I knew - wait, know? When do we past-tense the passed? - a LOT about her life. I read her biography, watched the movies about her, read the children’s book about her life to my girl - who now also loves, admires, and respects her - I deeply and fiercely admired her. What I’ve realized, in the wake of her death, is that (oh and isn’t this just exactly how it always is?) she is a mirror for me of all the things that I wanted, wished, and imagined for myself.
There is a deep mourning when one who we’ve put our dreams on, passes.
I always envisioned becoming a lawyer - and even a judge - some day. From the moment I started to learn about injustice, I wanted to be able to take action and make a difference. I took every opportunity as a child and teenager to “make right” - travelled to build houses for the homeless in Mexico, volunteered in soup kitchens, bought my clothes second hand. Things I felt could make a difference, from where I was. But (and I know I’m not alone in this!), as I grew up, things started getting in the way. And at the end of the day, I stopped believing in myself. I studied for the LSAT in my early 20s, but it was “too hard”. I had too much to re-do (after coming into myself in university meant I went from straight A’s in high school to more of a “C’s get degrees” attitude in post secondary *cringe*) and at the end of the day, I had lost my belief that I could make a difference.
I am incredibly grateful for where my life path has taken me. I absolutely love getting to work to empower people in their health. I love working with women to uncover their truth and passion, I love creating an abundant community and I love that ALL of that work helps to create sustainable anti-poverty solutions all across the globe. AND I never really mourned that which I didn’t get the chance to create - so what was coming up for me was yes all the things about her BUT ALSO all the things in myself that I never gave myself the chance to mourn.
We don’t always create space for that, do we? At least, I haven’t. Haven’t created the space to mourn the parts of myself that I imagined or dreamed that never came to pass. Give myself the chance to grieve, feel the feelings, and move forward. There's a difference in acknowledging and in wallowing too, yeah? Realizing that my grief was for her, the collective, and myself gives me the space to move through the feelings without making it mean “I wish I were a lawyer” (I really don’t!) or “I’ve failed at my mission in life” (I really haven’t!). I can journal, and meditate, and cry, and have a bath, and talk to people (professionals and friends), and write this post. I can listen to music, I can read Mary Oliver, I can buy new books and find ways to come back to joy and hope. I can use a boat-load of essential oils… my absolute favourite this week has been Cypress (thank you for the inspiration Adam Barralet!), especially with Frankincense, Bergamot, and Geranium.
And over and above all of that… it’s ok to be sad when a badass feminist icon - who didn’t just fight for the fights of women but BIPOC, the LGBTQ community, and members of religious and non-religious groups to be equal under the law - passes. May her memory be a blessing. <3
