Learning to Love Uncomfortable Feelings

November and December haven’t been happy months for me, for a few years now. Traumatic things have happened. I have lost a lot of people (including a special fur person) lately – and not just in November and December, although that is when their absence is most keenly felt. Every year lately at this time my spirits take a dive as I can’t seem to help reliving the past and the ghosts of all those feelings come back for an extended visit.

And it really doesn’t help that the rest of North America (at least according to what is blasted all over the media) goes into Holiday-crazy overdrive right after Halloween with a non-stop blitz of over-spending/over-eating/over-scheduling/over-everything until it seems like everyone is looking forward to having a magical time of it and I’m the only one that just can’t catch that buzz.

No matter how hard I try to fake it till I make it, I just don’t make it…anymore. I used to, though. I wasn’t born a bah-humbug. I was  a certifiable Christmas freak in my younger days, before life beat the snot outta me over and over again.

At this time of year I do grieve the loss of my former joyful Christmas-anticipating self on top of everything/everyone else I am grieving.  I’m not normally down so I’m not very good at dealing with myself when I am. It makes me uncomfortable.

Then a link to this post arrived in my Inbox today: In Love with the Heartbreaking Beauty of Discomfort. 

Life is hard, dammit. And beautiful. And it is a privilege to have known and loved and lost souls and then to grieve them.

I’m gonna get back into a meditation practice and let my thoughts and feelings bubble up as I know they’re gonna do when I try to quiet my mind. And I’m going to notice and acknowledge them and practice gratitude for the heartbreaking beauty of this experience.

Thank you Leo of Zen Habits. Thank you Discomfort. Thank you Life.

Rock on,

The WB

Facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestby feather


  • I think meditation is one of the most important things we can do for ourselves. I shouldn’t talk, because I don’t do it lately and haven’t for some time. But it is free, yet priceless, and can really help us should we do it. I am sorry to hear of your being down. Winter is never good for me, either. Thankfully, we don’t get much of a winter down here in Alabama, but I still don’t like when it gets “cold” for here.

    This will be my first Christmas since my Dad passed, and while I’ve handled his passing well so far, you just never know when grief is going to punch you and how hard.

    • Sorry to hear of your loss, Kim. Losing a parent is hard whether the relationship was good, bad or indifferent. The world is a much different place when one or both of them are gone, I have learned.

      Since our weather turned cold, damp and blustery here in Ontario, I haven’t been outside as much as usual, and no doubt this is contributing to me being down. I am suffering from Mother Nature withdrawal, hehehe. Time to bundle up and head outside for some walking meditation too, I think!

  • I went through a period of years when horrible things happened right about Christmas time several years in a row. I fell into a brick hearth and busted up my face, which will never be the same again. My dog died a horrible death. My husband was in Korea, and had been gone for almost a year and a half. They wouldn’t let him come home for Christmas even though his time was up shortly after the new year. Other things. I grew to dread that time of year, and like you say, it was hard because everybody else was so happy. My kids needed me to be happy. Even after the streak of bad Christmases passed, I still dreaded what might happen. It took a few years, but I finally was able to put that time behind me. It was really difficult for a while though. I hope you too can someday pass through the dark times.

    • Thanks Reticula. Sorry to hear of what you’ve been through. Yeah, every year I figure the next year will be better and the ol’ magic will come back and then I get upset with myself when it doesn’t. I’m gonna let go of that and just be appreciative for what is, instead of yearning for what can never be again.

  • We have a right to our feelings of discomfort and melancholy – even while it seems like the rest of the world is rejoicing. I like your attitude of simply acknowledging these feelings for what they are, and appreciating that their existence means you got to experience the good stuff before the loss.

    I’ve just started to understand the expression that you can never go home again. I think the sentiment fits here too. We change. Our experiences change us. What we long for from the past can never be recreated … because we aren’t the same anymore.

    I hope you find a new energy and excitement this November and December … not a resurrection of the old, but the birth of something new.

    • Thank you Joanne. Hope springs eternal for me that I will find new peace and joy.

I'd love to hear from you. Let's chat!