Daryl Wood's Blog

Throughout my grief journey I’ve heard many times that it is important to have something to look forward to. The premise is that it turns my attention to the future and not the past, gives me something else to focus on instead of my grief and also stimulates some joy and excitement. All these things are true and there have been times when it worked very well. The anticipation of my train trip from Toronto to Halifax in September 2024 was definitely a good example of the impact on my whole being of having something to look forward to.

But today I was journalling about some options I have for an upcoming weekend that, so far, will be a break from wintry weather conditions. I noticed that I was feeling hopeful and eager to make plans that would be exciting and fulfilling. Then new ideas started forming and then the inevitable anxiety. Uh oh. Which to choose? What do I really want to do? Will that be a good fit? Which is more important? What’s the easiest way to make this happen? Now, what started out as something to look forward to, was becoming something to worry about. And I have been excessively good at worrying these past two years. My retreat women are all rolling their eyes because I used to say that worrying was a waste of good energy and that ‘if worrying would help, I’ll come over and worry with you’.

As I sat with these feelings I thought about how we sometimes put pressure on ourselves to have something to look forward to. Suddenly, I feel like the only person (and I’m not) who doesn’t have a trip, or event or outing planned. Suddenly, I feel like the only person (and I’m not) who is sitting on the sidelines of life (which I’m not). As a coach, I spent so many years supporting people who were creating something to look forward to. Today, it doesn’t feel right. What does it say about me if I don’t have something to look forward to? What does it mean about me if I have no plans other than to bring in wood for the woodstove and go to the post office? What am I saying about myself if I haven’t set up something that is bigger than my daily life so I can get excited and focus on the future? How will I feel when others are engaged in things I might like to do or that they tell me all about their adventures? And the worst anxiety is whether or not I am running out of time to do something so I better get planning.

Maybe it says that for now, I’m content in the present moment, burrowing down in the winter snow and enjoying the little somethings in my life. And aren’t little somethings just as real and special and meaningful as big somethings? And what about my faith that things always work out. This morning I may not feel like making plans or even thinking about making plans. That could and most likely will change. Something will happen either externally with replies from friends and family or something inside of me might shift and I’ll know what feels right.

This blog might not have been about having something to look forward to at all. It might have just been about trusting my inner wisdom, staying in the present moment and knowing I’ll be guided to whatever something it is that I can look forward to.