Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | February 12, 2024

No Second Shift

When Doug and I would tackle projects and I resisted he would say ‘There’s no second shift. We have to get it done.’ For him, that was the bottom line. There was no point in waiting for someone to come along and finish the job. This came from his years managing a team in a factory. Sometimes a job would be thought to take too long so they would leave it for the ‘second shift’. The second shift came in and got it done. But when he retired and there was no longer a second shift, he got things done himself.

I’m facing that now as I realize how many times I ‘left’ things for him to do or finish. We had a good working relationship of knowing how to make the best use of our strengths and work interdependently. And still, he was my ‘second shift’ in so many ways. I I have been reminded by many single friends that they have not had a ‘second shift’ for sometimes decades if ever. They are a little baffled because I’ve always seemed so capable and resourceful. Well, I still am. I just didn’t have to take responsibility for everything which is pretty common in a partnership.

I teach The Empowerment Dynamic* *TED*) and the similarities are eerie. When we feel victimized … and oh boy can a grieving widow like me ever feel more victimized than when they lose the love of their life … we pray for a Rescuer to save us from the terrible circumstances we face. And how many jobs that we would never have given a thought to do we now have to handle by ourselves?

How many times have I had to pick myself up and do something I didn’t want to because my ‘second shift’ was gone? And more importantly, how many times in the past did I push something off to my willing husband when I could have easily taken responsibility and finished something?

I am still in an acute state of grieving so I am being very compassionate towards myself as I sit back in amazement at how much learning I gave up because someone else was willing to do things for me. Not that Doug was always rescuing me. We both have the Rescuer gene so it played out at various times. What I’m learning now is that the strength of the Creator Role in TED* has already helped me prove myself capable of doing things I wouldn’t have thought about. Things like changing the trickle charger on the batteries stored for winter, splitting wood for kindling, learning to hook up the utility trailer, and putting salt in the water softener.

Rather than ask helpful neighbours to do lots of little jobs for me I’m pretty sure Doug is pleased that I’m taking on his ‘second shift’ role. And I kinda am too.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | February 12, 2024

I Shall Not Pass This Way Again

“I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good thing, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show to any creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”Stephen Grellet, Quaker Missionary

March 25, 1995 I was in Victoria B.C. with my first mother-in-law to celebrate her mother’s 100th birthday. It was a grand occasion and Grama Wardle loved the attention. As the party wound down I was tasked with taking her back to her room in the senior’s residence. She caught my arm and said “Wait. I have to thank everyone.” I gently reminded her that she had already done that and referenced some of the people she had particularly mentioned. Without skipping a beat, she recited the above verse. It was a holy moment.

Grama still had all of her faculties even though she was a bit forgetful. To be able to speak so eloquently in the excitement of the day really touched me. And what was more significant was the message. I came home, researched it, printed it and it has hung on my office all ever since.

The idea that we might live our lives doing one good thing or showing a kindness to any creature is such a statement of service in a world longing for love to spread. I’ve walked past that frame so many times and not given it a glance. Today was different.

Today I was remembering the abundant kindness that has been extended to me since the loss of my beloved husband Doug. Family and friends and complete strangers have offered compassion and comfort. I suspect that many of them don’t know what a lasting impact they had on me since our interactions were brief. But I remember.

The security guard at the hospital who pushed Doug in a wheelchair around the caution tape so that I could park the car. The receptionist at our clinic who lightly patted my shoulder as I walked past. The Canadian Tire employee who offered a warm hug when I entered in tears. And the lab technician who took time to answer Doug’s questions in the middle of a busy day. The list is long and I may never have the chance to thank each person directly. They didn’t give for reward. They followed their heart. They may not have even considered ‘deferring or neglecting’ but no matter what the future brings we will never pass that way again.

If you don’t already know what you are capable of when you meet/pass a complete stranger please think of the gratitude that is in my heart and do what you can. Someone, somewhere is going to carry a memory of your willingness to be kind.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | February 11, 2024

Waiting Without Anxiety

Many years ago I purchased the book A Course In Miracles (ACIM). I’d heard about it from many friends and read Marianne Williamson’s summary in A Return To Love. I only got through 25 pages when I realized this was a tougher read requiring more focus. What was a blessing is that I started hearing quotes from the book in other material. (That’s the law of attraction and confirmation bias at work!)

Wayne Dyer quoted from ACIM “Those who are certain of the outcome can afford to wait, and to wait without anxiety.” I loved that because I have a worn out childhood story about waiting and have forever told people I am not a good waiter. As is the case with all life lessons, the more I said it, the more times I was forced to wait. In the TED* work, we call this the space of Dynamic Tension. My training had taught me that taking small Baby Steps while I focused on my desired outcome I would keep building my resilience and move closer to my vision. Unfortunately, I had a historical habit of feeling the discomfort and sometimes painful emotions of waiting and would jump wildly around trying to either fix, eliminate or build on the negativity. That never worked out well for me or the others around me who had to endure my angst.

During my beloved Doug’s medical treatments I faced a mountain of waiting. It felt like being in our small boat under the looming rock of the Niagara Escarpment on Georgian Bay. How would I ever scale that rugged coastline? How would I ever endure hours of hospital and clinic waiting rooms? How would I wait for test results, next appointments and most importantly good results?

I’ve heard it said that it’s what you do while you wait that is the key. And that, my friends, is exactly what ACIM is saying and what I knew with certainty from my TED* training. Waiting without anxiety.

I am such a lover of quotes (my own and from others) and on this topic people hear me saying “Everything works out. Everything. Maybe not the way you want it to but everything does eventually work out.” And one of my friends’ favourites “Well, if worrying about it would help I’ll come right over and worry with you.”

Thankfully I am much better at waiting because I use the tools I have to navigate. I do breathing exercises, change my thoughts, journal, walk, sing, do some chore that’s quick and satisfying, etc. I’m not perfect at this. For example, as I wait for a much anticipated call later this morning I am doing most of the things I know help me. Yes, I did send off a brief text to my sister so now she can be engaged in the dance of worry with me if she chooses. That’s my one concession this morning to the old way of dealing with waiting and ‘outing’ myself here is the best way to remember to use the wisdom I have instead of having a fear response.

Am I certain of the outcome? No, not at all. What I am certain of is that no matter what the outcome is, I can and will handle it. Now that is empowerment!

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | February 7, 2024

WWDD

Years ago my niece wore a bracelet with the letters WWJD. It was a reminder when she was making decisions to ask “What Would Jesus Do?” I was impressed that she wanted to keep herself in a mindset that fit here beliefs and gave her a way to hold herself accountable.

Every person I meet tells me what a nice guy Doug was. No one believed he was 80 years old. All through his head/neck cancer journey he kept going, on to the next thing, pushing through, doing what he could. Since his passing I have thought about his legacy and how I would honour him. Well, on my long walk in the sunshine on the quiet country road today as I pondered a big decision I heard myself say out loud, “What Would Doug Do?”

The answer is easy because I watched him face adversity over the years with an attitude of resolve. And the past six years only slowed him down but didn’t stop him. The last six weeks of his life were nearly unbearable but until the end, he got up and went for treatment until his body said no. In the early days he would have radiation and chemo and sleep it off or rest. Then I’d find him in the backyard with a chop saw cutting wood for trim.

The day after finding out his blood was in trouble he put on a face mask and dove 8 feet to the lake bottom to repair a mooring anchor. He just kept picking himself back up and taking on the next thing.

I’m being gentle with myself as I reflect on the raw and limiting grief I have endured and how I have handled it. And I also realize that I have been in some small way doing what Doug did. I am getting things done. Paperwork. Appointments. All the stuff that needs to be taken care of. Just like Doug did. I imagine I learned this by watching him. Every day from the beginning of his treatments he got up, showered, dressed fully for the day. He could have lounged in pajamas and no one would have judged that as wrong. But it mattered to him so he kept up his routine.

Tomorrow I have a long dental appointment that I’ve been dreading. Now I’m asking myself what did Doug do in the days leading up to his four throat surgeries. He did what he had to do and showed up usually with a little joke for the nursing staff or a teasing comment to me.

What set him apart was that he rarely complained. He didn’t think it would help so why bother. I’m not chastising myself for the frequent outbursts of sobs or wailing that I do. This is big grief and as long as I am gradually taking steps forward I will remember that when I’m stuck, asking What Would Doug Do is probably the best thing for me to help me find my way through.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | February 7, 2024

When Grief and TED* Collide

For over ten years I have shared TED* with my coaching clients and the women who came to my retreats. It has been and still is such powerful work for helping people to see themselves and their world in a new and meaningful way. And it blended beautifully with the Shadow Work and Perspectives Program I was already teaching.

Over the years I lived more and more into the principles of TED* and put the effort in to become a TED*/3VQ practitioner. Soon I found myself in corporate settings giving organizations the opportunity to shift their culture in positive ways. It was gratifying work both corporately and with individual clients.

While it wasn’t always easy, I consciously used these skills as my husband Doug navigated a difficult journey with head/neck cancer in 2017. After the initial feelings of being Victimized, we knew we had to find a way to not just survive but to thrive. We managed relationships, our own and with others, and tested our resilience through the medical system for six years. We both leaned into being Creators as we approached the challenges. I had to wrestle with my inherent need to Rescue. Persecutors popped up everywhere and we found a way to hold ourselves as capable and resourceful no matter what.

And then after celebrating a special anniversary with loved family on August 31st 2023 we got news that Doug had MDS leukemia. The prognosis was grim, and we knew we would face this with the same determination and ingenuity that we had in the past. What we didn’t know was that this was a formidable foe that would tear apart our lives. We tried hard until there was no trying left. Doug passed away November 12th. His two months of suffering were over and mine began.

Every time I had taught TED* I reinforced with people that there is a grieving process after every encounter with the Victim Role. It may be a few seconds when you drop a plate; or a few days when you have to rearrange flights; or even a few weeks when you have to adjust to a job change. There is always a time, whether we acknowledge it or not, that we mourn what we have lost. And so it was that I fell deeply into grieving and stayed there for weeks. And who could blame me? We had a once-in-a-lifetime love and were so bound by the 25 years of devotion. The people around me had never seen me so weak and vulnerable. I said and did things that seemed irrational and was blessed with loving support from family and friends.

And every now and then I wondered how I could be so helpless when I had the best tools ever to recover? TED* and 3VQ had been a centering force for getting through the ups and downs of life. In the suffocating weeks after his death, I barely thought of TED*. Trying to keep breathing and doing what needed to be done was all I could manage.

And when I did start to have space in my life for anything else I remembered the dozens of times I had sat with someone at a retreat and asked them “What do you know about yourself now that you couldn’t have known if this had never happened?” And the best TED* question I ever ask (or some version of it) is “Given that this is your current reality and I know you don’t like it and since we can’t change it, how will you be with this?”

How will I be with this? Good question.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | January 28, 2024

Everybody’s “Bad” Behaviour Just Gets Worse

Stress will do that to you. It does it to me. I have been a teacher of Shadow Work for 20+ years. Mostly I admit to my shadow side and continue to face the gravitational pull to thoughts and behaviours that don’t serve me. It’s especially hard right now while grieving.

What I taught in my women’s retreats and coaching partnerships was the basic premise that there is a ‘light’ and ‘shadow’ to everything. No matter what you are feeling: joy, sorrow, anger, frustration, optimism, imbalance; or what behaviour you are acting out: selfish, kindness, revenge, forgiveness, procrastination, patience, etc. there is a light and shadow. For example, the ‘light’ side of courage might be that we push ourselves to try new things, take advantage of opportunities and surpass our limits to grow and learn. The ‘shadow’ side of courage might be that we take unnecessary risks, act impulsively or believe we must do something to be courageous. Most of us fall somewhere on the shadow continuum for all our thoughts and behaviours in our daily lives.

Consider now one of my favourite words: judgement. The majority of people I talk to quickly resist being called judgemental. It has such a negative connotation. Most of us associate judgement from the shadow side which sounds like: harsh criticisms of others, finding fault, pointing fingers and making assumptions. What about the light side of judgement when you discern what is safe in a given moment, decide which option is best for you or open a door to connection with someone else in order to understand?

Having trained with Debbie Ford decades ago I know that her teaching of ‘whatever you admire or despise in others is also within you.’ If you don’t own your shadow, it owns you and you will see it in others as a mirror of what you can’t be with. If you are falling into the shadow side of anything you can choose to change. And we all know that you can’t change what you don’t acknowledge.

Teaching this work and following the principles doesn’t make me immune to falling into the shadow side. And nothing has plunged me deeper into this abyss than the experience of grief. One of my friends commented that since I’m in acute grief I get a free pass to ‘be’ whatever I need to be in the moment. At first, that seemed like a relief because I had so little control over my emotions. Now, 11 weeks in (today is another marker) I am realizing that for the past few weeks this doesn’t sit well with me. And judgement is a good place to start.

Now here is where the ‘Everybody’s bad behaviour just gets worse’ part comes in. My own habit of being on the shadow side of judging others (and we ALL do it) came bursting out when I was under the heavy stress of my loss. Temporarily, that might have been the best I could do and thankfully I am well loved and supported by people who know that’s not my typical operating system. As the intensity slightly eases I am reclaiming that part of myself that uses judgement in a healthy way. I make good decisions for myself and what is most significant is that I am empathetic and accepting and understanding and forgiving. With this comes a calming sense of finding my way home to my soul self.

I wasn’t rampant in my negative judgements but it was enough of a tilt in that direction that I wondered if I had forever lost that capacity of welcoming myself and others just as they are. I remind myself as I do others, often, that everyone, and I mean everyone, is doing the best they can.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | January 24, 2024

Nothing Lasts Forever

Every moment has it’s beauty and specialness or it’s dull and ordinary. But so it is. And when its gone – which by the way will be forever whether we like it or not – we will remember it with fondness or indifference. The special moments warm our hearts and soften our edges. Watching the otters fishing on the partially frozen lake is delightful but it doesn’t last forever. Sitting in the darkness waiting for daylight is temporary. We welcome and seek more of those happy moments to fill our days. And what if dull or ordinary or even sad moments persist and we judge them to be unworthy and still they happen? Do we lose sight of what is real because we long for something else or can we accept that this is a dull moment and continue to be loving and kind for no other reason than to be alive and present? To be in whatever moment is happening without judgement because we know that nothing on earth lasts forever and this is simply what is in front of us right now.

Doug died before me. I am carrying on because I am still here and no matter how much time, energy, emotion, thought and persistence I use, that doesn’t change my current reality. This is what the present moment looks and feels like. Will I weep for the sound of his voice, the touch of his strong hands, the smell of his head on my shoulder, his playful humour? Yes. Yes. Yes. That is all true. The thought that it would not last forever was abstract until it came to be.

As I read about impermanence I see that I have missed that initial lesson in life. Of course change has been happening since my birth and all the decades in between. I grew and learned even when everything around me changed, sometimes by my choice and just as often by circumstances around me. Exciting opportunities emerged and nudged things that once mattered out of the way to make room for experiences that continuously shaped my life. Friendships that seemed rock solid melted away creating space for others to walk with me. And books, oh yes, my books. I have loved so many books that I held onto for years believing having them on my shelf was necessary until there was no room for the new, more intriguing books to land.

What I have thought would be forever in life has not always been and this recent loss is a painful reminder. Could I have been better prepared if I had studied impermanence as they do in some cultures? Perhaps. “Good” change has been celebrated while “not so good” change has been allocated to the side. But all change has changed me in some way and I am better for having survived what may have seemed impossible at the time.

The paradox is that his passing is the permanence that is frequently referred to in the grief healing process. Yes, he is gone FOREVER from this physical world. That’s a fact. And no, the feelings I have right now will not always be as acute as they are right now. Sheryl Sandberg addresses this beautifully in her book Option B with Adam Grant. I’ve given the book to other widows and found inspiration in it myself as I was widowed. Even my love for him has changed since we said goodbye. I am adjusting to the realization that our relationship continues in a much different way but what we had in this physical world is no longer possible.

So this morning I am sitting on the edge of something I can’t quite put my finger on. It feels comforting and inspiring and hopeful. I wish this feeling could last forever but I know that the grief will find its way into my world at some point and I’ll surrender to the ache again because … nothing lasts forever.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | January 23, 2024

What About You?

Fourteen years ago Doug’s sister passed away after a devastating illness. It was heartbreaking for so many and especially her adult children. I clearly remember being at the ‘wake’ after the official service and my Doug being overcome with emotion. He approached his nephew and said “I’m so sorry for your loss.” And then, a beautiful moment of reverence unfolded as his nephew took his shoulders and replied, “And I am so sorry for your loss too.” I have never forgotten the generosity of this young man who had unfailingly supported his mother through nine months of painful decline. For him to have the love and understanding to be with someone else’s grief while his own was suffocating was truly an act of some kind of holiness.

What I realize is that I have not been in that head space these past ten weeks. I’ve acknowledged the losses of Doug’s children but as more and more friends tell me how much they are grieving Doug I am realizing that I have not been able to hear what others have been saying. And for certain, I am not holding myself accountable because who knew what a tizzy this grief thing would throw me into.

It’s not that I haven’t been aware and empathetic to others. There are several losses this month from the past and present. I’ve done my best to let others know I am thinking of them but what is obvious is how much I have avoided hearing how Doug’s passing has impacted people who loved him. They have had to grieve alone or with each other. It has been too hard for me to be open to listening to what feels like a compounding of my own grief.

As much as I’ve pushed back on these conversations I realize they are coming. The few times people have said ‘he was such a great guy, a good soul, a kind man, a special friend,’ etc. makes me feel proud to have been his wife. And it also reminds me of what I have lost and what we will all miss in the weeks and months ahead.

There’s nothing to do about this right now. Time will come. It felt important today to say out loud and again that grievers need a very wide berth. We, myself, the people closest and those on the edge of a beloved person, can and will do their best. And long ago, a young man showed up with his best in a memorable way.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | January 22, 2024

There’s A Hole In My Sidewalk

-1-
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost … I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

-2-
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

-3-
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in … it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

-4-
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

-5-
I walk down another street.

Portia Nelson

In my deep grief it’s been hard to see that hole and even harder to avoid it when it was obvious. The hole is so big, the size of the whole street, the neighbourhood, the whole world. It feels so awful to fall into that hole and I have needed a lot of help to get back out.

Then, two days ago, I saw the hole before I fell in. I walked around it. Yesterday afternoon it happened again. I saw the hole and could almost feel it beckoning me, pulling me in. It’s very seductive and part of me wanted to be in that darkness. And the part of me that didn’t, quietly whispered in my mind “not this time”. I stepped back, made conscious choices and ended the day with a smile. Yes, a smile. I still ache and long for Doug. And I smiled.

That hole might always be there. I might fall in again. I might walk around it or choose a different street. Now I have evidence that I can. Let’s all remember to be gentle with ourselves when we discover we are not where we want to be. We are always at choice.

Posted by: Ms. Daryl Wood | January 21, 2024

The Promises We Make

People have such big hearts and care so deeply. They mean what they say when they pledge “I’ll be there for you no matter what” or “Whatever you need, just ask” or “Call me anytime, day or night”. And they really do mean it. They are as sincere as they have ever been in the face of someone’s (in this case my) grief. They are almost desperate to help in any way they can. But they, and I, don’t know what that looks like so we are blindfolded going into this partnership of grieving and support. Me not knowing what to ask for and how to ask. They, thinking they could handle whatever I wanted or needed.

I fault no one for their reactions. It’s an understatement to say that I’ve had a wealth of support and offers continue from loving hearts. How could I or anyone around me ever know what these promises that we make will mean as the days and weeks drag on? Who could expect themselves to be able to hold that space for someone who seems to be in and out of a downward spiral of pain?

My gratitude is wide and everlasting for those who plunged into the fray and made these commitments without knowing what it would require of them. They got me here … the ten week mark. Now comes the time of reckoning. The collateral damage of grief is not just the people who disappeared early in the game but those who have now run out of capacity to fulfill the promises they made. I am being as gentle with them as I can in my own panic that I am once again feeling a loss. And it is another loss when I realize I’ve shared the most intimate details of my journey with someone who now has to look away for their own wellbeing. Boundaries can be a very hard line for the griever and caregiver. If we remember to do our own self-care we will be far more willing and able to love others through their heartache. How many times have we heard that said and yet it can’t be said enough when you are supporting someone in acute grief.

I’ve had many, many life lessons in my 69 years and this one is certainly the most intense and profoundly life altering. Life altering is a phrase we sometimes throw around until we face it and realize the depth and breadth of such a statement. Not much in my life looks the same and even when it does, there is a different energy and shape to the world I lived in before losing my Doug.

So what would I say to someone on the edge of a promise to a loved friend or relative? I don’t have all the answers because I’m far from an expert on this. Something that has been so helpful has been to know that I’m being thought of so when I heard from people, I knew I wasn’t alone. A heart emoji, xoxoxo in an email, a card in the mail were all ways I knew someone in the world was holding a light in the dark for me.

And for the promises we feel compelled to make, it might be easier on everyone to simply offer “I’ll do what I can when I think you need me or when you ask.” If the opportunity is there to bolster these words we can add, “I hope you will know that if I have to say no sometimes it is not a reflection on how much I love you. It’s me doing the best I can and that will look different at times.” This is a far better way to communicate than to abruptly withdraw once a promise has become a burden.

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