Courage was a word that had slipped from my vocabulary before I lost Woody. It seems like I was just going through my life, and when I would encounter something difficult or challenging, I’d just find some alcohol and shove the feelings back into my mind. Even though I was facing life’s obstacles, I was numb to the real issue. I didn’t realize how many times I would push something aside, only to have it resurface in a different area when the next situation arose.
After we lost Woody so suddenly, I couldn’t face even the simplest things without having a drink in my blood stream. As days turned into weeks, then into months, it didn’t get any better, it only got worse. I had been working with Ophilia for over three months, exploring my repetitive dreams before some changes started to take place. At the end of one session, where I think I had cried for most of it, we were exploring a flashpoint in my dreams and how my grief was ruining my daily life. Ophilia said, “It takes courage”. After our session ended, I just sat and thought about courage.
As this idea began to weave itself back into my life, I began to discover how many things in my life would have been different if I had displayed courage. Since my parents were abusive both physically and emotionally, I didn’t display courage when a new situation would confront me. I’d either go in without thinking of the end results or I’d avoid it. I started to beat myself up about the lost opportunities, but somehow, I came to the realization to stop doing that, beating myself up as my parents had beaten me. I began to walk the path of courage, confronting the situation and looking for solutions rather than using alcohol or running away.
My life began to change, and I began to notice even the little things that in the past had caused me great upset. When Woody was alive we had the most amazing group of calla lilies in our back yard, most likely because we used to dump his water dish into the flowers, and with all that water, they flourished. After he was gone, there was no water dish dumping, so the callas didn’t return. I began to notice how sad it would make me that they had died along with Woody.
As I was being reborn with courage as an ally, when I would look in that direction, I would reframe my depression into one of hope that the lilies would return someday. It took courage to have hope instead of feeling sorry for myself at the loss of Woody and the lilies.
This year, the callas have returned, and it brings such joy to my heart and comfort to my soul that I faced my pain with courage. I’m learning to apply courage to so many things in my life, and I feel that I’m being blessed with so much beauty and peace of mind. It Takes Courage.
