It’s the holiday season, and for millions, it is both a joyous celebration and a reminder of things lost: financial security, loved ones, jobs, homes, hopes, dreams and innocence. This season, like no other in recent history, grips the hearts of many with a sorrow carried on the winds of change.

There is another way though…to follow a road less traveled this Season, This road will get you to the other side of loss.  I know because I am no stranger to that road. For good or bad, I have traveled it many times. What lies at the destination is nothing less than a new landscape and a new beginning. It is inevitable that spring follows winter. That is a cause for celebration.  

What does this have to do with relationship?  Everything!  It requires that you truthfully relate to your own self: your hurts, angers, resentments, longings and loss.  It requires that you acknowledge what you are experiencing to yourself and others. Not easy, given that we are taught to suck it up, move on, take tranquilizers, and swallow both our emotions and the well meaning platitudes that “He or she is in a better place,” or “You’ll find a better job,” and other comments that say more about the other person’s fear than your loss.  That’s human nature.

The price of loving is loss.  Sometimes we give our all to a cause, a person, a job or our calling. Sometimes there are no happy endings, except as we rewrite them. Grief and loss are by-products of life. They are not to be feared, but merely faced as they arise.

Ironically, when we hone the skill of self-reflection, observation and intuition, we learn to by-pass those roads that lead directly to grief.  Sometimes, unnecessary grief arises simply because we have not listened to our inner council. We compound that by putting our grief in the closet and pretending it doesn’t exist. Even that can be cause for celebration when we learn the pitfalls of ignoring our own heart and wisdom.

I offer these observations to you, knowing there is cause for celebration in the midst of uncertainty and loss. Perhaps the gift you give this season is that of allowing you to experience whatever is present as it appears.  Let your thoughts, feelings and emotions be cause for celebration. They are the signposts on the road less traveled. To celebrate means “to make known or famous.” Celebrate your life and the adventure of relationship. Breathe, stop and honor your life and your loss as you prepare the soil for something new.  That is the miracle of relation and celebration.

You are the gift. Choose to take the road less traveled, and leave loss by the wayside. Develop a great relationship witn yourself regardless of the season and you will soon be ready to love again, begin again and risk again. Walk your road one step at a time and a new season of celebration will arrive.

Dancing with grief. What a partner. It’s a partner we all dance with sooner or later, like it or not. I have done that dance a few times. Each time the experience has been different. What we forget is that grieving, like living, is a normal part of life. Here is a peak into grief, fresh, up front and personal.

As I write this, it’s five months today since my beloved husband, James Putney, passed away. He died as he lived, touching lives and mending hearts. My heart was one of many he touched.

James was the oncology chaplain at UCLA Medical Center. For 10 years he sat with seriously ill patients, holding their hands, praying with them, encouraging them and fighting for their rights. He and I often married them or helped to bury them. His was a sacred calling. I was the lucky woman he came home to. I loved my husband from head to toe, and he cherished his beloved Lin. Now I am left with my new partner, grief. There is another blessing that awaits me, as I learn to dance well with my new partner.

That may sound strange, and it is. Grief is a partner that will sweep you off your feet. If you grieve well, it will also clean you out for some new delight. How can that be? I’m not sure, except that when I abandon myself to my partner I am swept across the dance floor. Just as suddenly as the dance begins, it is over. I feel lighter and more free with each encounter. I have grieved well in that moment.

There are days when I resist, and I am exhausted. Judging the timing inappropriate, I shut down. I hold my breath, I excuse myself or change the subject to protect those that don’t want to know. That doesn’t relieve the pain or bring my husband back. I remind myself, I must be selfish and take care of myself….that is part of grieving well.

Part of taking care of myself is to express the feelings that rise and fall within me. I use my pen and paper as weapons, cutting through those feelings, burning the evidence. It is a magical prescription for feeling better.

Here’s what I do, sometimes daily, to move the energy within me and make room for the new. I light a candle and decide how long I will write. Usually it is 20 minutes. Some days the tears flow as soon as I put pen to paper. I write across the top of the page that “only the highest good be allowed.” This means that I am directing my unconscious to bring up the things that will help me to let go and move beyond the feelings. My desire is not to get stuck in them, but to welcome them and set them free.

I have days when I rage at at the circumstances that lead to the loss of my best friend. Deep down, I understand that this is a part of my own process and growth. I acknowledge the victim within me and pick up pen and paper again. I remind myself that all feelings are appropriate. They are my children and mine alone. I must love them, listen to them, and acknowledge them.

I know that my willingness to let go and let my body lead me through the grief is the key to a new tomorrow. Everything has a season, and the more I let go and let myself be, just the way I am, the sooner I will be re-born. Changed and renewed. So will you, if you follow the lead of your dancing partner, grief, and surrender to the dance.

If you, or someone you know, is dealing with grief, there are many things you can do to help.

First, please don’t say you understand. Every person’s experience is uniquely theirs. There may be similarities, but you can never know what the other person is feeling. Each loss may be experienced in a very different way.

Listen. Listen. Listen. If you don’t know what to say, then say that. Sometimes, just holding in the silence speaks volumes.

Rituals are important. James and I did a petal ceremony each time he lost a patient. We collected petals and stood on our balcony, speaking out loud what needed to be said to that person or about that person as we let go of the petals.

That’s a great ritual that worked for me at his funeral service. Every person there got petals to take home. I took them home too. Find your own ritual. We need endings before we can find new beginnings.

Grieving is a full time job. Forget about focus and productivity! The mind shuts down so you can cope. Make lists. Enlist friends. Join a group or see a counselor. The more you give yourself over, the more likely to become complete with your grief. Do what you need to do to grieve well. Others may be threatened. Don’t be surprised or take it personally. Chances are you have touched their mortality. It’s not about you, it’s about them.

There are many internet resources. Check them out for yourself. Here are two that might be of interest: www.grief-recovery.com and www.griefhaven.org. The later is for parents who have lost a child. James was a member of their advisory board.

Lastly, remember that life is precious. There is no guarantee about tomorrow. Take the time and tell those you love that you love them. If your loved one dies, honor them and grieve well. Let the holes in your heart become the place where the Light shines through.