quakes

When something catastrophic happens in your life, there is an almost seismic shift. Loss of job, accident, ill health, death, divorce. All those things we call Life Changing are, well, Life Changing.

We are toodling along, minding our own business, planning for the future and suddenly, out of nowhere, we find ourselves shunted onto a new highway. And to some extent, even in the chaos that ensues, logically we understand this.

What we don’t grasp is that the road we thought we were on, has disappeared.

I really hate the term ‘New Normal’; but it fits. Suddenly all those things we took for granted have disappeared or moved. And all of our relationships inevitably change. Because for 1 thing, we are not the same person we were yesterday.

Catastrophic change changes us.

It changes how we act, how we feel, how we dream, how we plan, how we sleep, how we eat, how we drive, who we talk to, what we read, how we dress.

In a split second sometimes, we become a different person.

Even if the change is not unexpected, for instance someone love passes away after an illness, a part of our lives has gone. We move from caregiver, supporter, friend to someone who has a gap in their lives. Our skills for all those things we were doing are no longer needed. The void is real.

And we all wish and hope we could go back to how things were or wait for things to return to normal. But, in some way, that normal no longer exists. What we do, is start to build a different way of living.  And that takes time. Inevitably more time than we are expecting.

I am reminded of the devastating earthquakes in Christchurch and Kaikoura 2011, and 2016. Completely life changing for everyone affected. Both places are recovering, but it is taking way longer than anyone expected, and they will never return to the places they were. The people who lived there, or who had strong ties there, have had to live through the recovery, the rebuild, the change and the grief. What may have been just buildings and roads, where the storehouses of memories for 1000s. Most people in Christchurch had a link to someone who was injured or died or lost their home or business. Those wounds are still healing. For some, it was too much, and they left.

The same happens when we go through a huge life crisis.

Everyone around us is affected – either directly, or because we change. We lose part of who we are, and who we were for them. Most adapt, but some can’t and that’s ok. We have all lost part of our geography, our familiar landscape and landmarks. We are all living in a slightly different country, and we all need time to reconfigure. That place where we all were, has skewed. The buildings might be on a lean, the roads cracked and munted. Some landmarks are gone, some of our touchstones chipped or gone altogether.

I know that the love for me from others hasn’t changed. But they need time to work out their thoughts and feelings. Which doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes feel hurt or rejected – I am human after all. But when I find the grace I need for them, then I can find acceptance.

I also understand that they are waiting for me to ‘get back to normal’; not understanding, that the old normal has gone. I love those who can wait for me to navigate my new terrain, but also bless those who can’t. Their life has moved on, and mostly I understand that.

Relationships are fluid, some ties are strong, some not tight enough to survive the aftermath. Some relationships actually get stronger after a Life Changing Event. People’s different strengths rise to the surface.

I was once given a poem written by someone who bore a child with medical issues. It’s called Amsterdam. She bought a ticket for a holiday in Italy and had planned all the sites she was going to see, the pasta she was going to eat. The scenery, the splendid time. But when she got off the plane she found herself in Amsterdam instead. All perfectly lovely, in its own way, but not the holiday of a lifetime that she had planned. She came to appreciate the joys that Amsterdam held, but also accepted the sadness about the things she was missing in Italy. And that is the process we must all go through after a Life Changing Event. Grief, sadness, anger, and acceptance. And understand that some of our relationships got to go to Italy, without us. Its ok to feel short changed, jealous. It isn’t fair, life isn’t fair.

I’ve lost a few touchstones in the last year. Some were completely unexpected; for some I knew it was coming; and for a couple of others, I had missed the signs. It has left me feeling afloat and not tethered.

I know this will pass.

I know I will end up where I am meant to be.

For the control freak in me, it is really tough. For the person who hates change and mitigates much of her life to avoid it, it has been a grind. I am doing my best to trust the process. I’ve been blessed to find strength in the most unexpected places. People have stepped up; some relationships have deepened. That relationship fluidity is working to fill some of those gaps.

I still miss my friends, daily. I still cry, when a song come on, or a FB memory pops up, or I take a photo of something I would’ve shared with them.

And I know there are some things I will no longer do. Those missing faces leaving too large a gap. But I also know that, like my 2 ‘other’ towns – Christchurch and Kaikoura, the rebuild holds some very special new spaces.

The road I travel from 1 to the other now has some beautiful spots to pause, see the sea; smell the salt, while guarded by taonga carved to represent the Gods of the area.

I keep trusting the process, and I give myself grace.

Niwha

Ka mahi te tawa uho ki te riri

Grit

Well done, you whose courage is like the heart of the Tawa