When I started brainstorming this newsletter, I planned to have each issue written at least a week in advance. I hoped to stockpile multiple essays so I wouldn’t get stressed out by last-minute pressures. I wanted My Sweet Dumb Brain to be a passion project — something light and fun.
Today’s essay was supposed to be about loneliness versus solitude; it's something I decided weeks ago.
I wanted to explore those ideas this week because I knew I'd be on vacation in Toronto, where I’m traveling solo. I hoped to get it done ahead of time so I could make the most of my trip.
And I couldn’t do any of that because my sweet dumb brain is having a really tough time lately.
Tomorrow marks what would have been my 10-year wedding anniversary. I wanted to honor that milestone, and I chose to do it in Toronto — a place that Jamie and I always hoped to visit.
I’ve been through enough grief milestones to know that the lead up to the dreaded day is far worse than the day itself. Not surprisingly, the days before this anniversary have been brutal. I’ve been lost in a fog of negativity, haunted by where my life was supposed to be in comparison to where it is now.
I’ve been stuck in a dark and depressing thought spiral, asking questions with no answers.
Why do some of us get babies and long lives?
Why do others get diseases and early deaths?
What’s the point if everything is so random?
How can I love if I’m still reeling from loss?
Will I ever feel truly hopeful again?
When will this hurt less?
And so on and so on. I don’t have answers to those questions, just like I don’t have the mental energy to pick apart the difference between loneliness and solitude (though maybe in a future issue!).
I’m focusing my efforts on calming the storm inside my head. I’m going to wander around Toronto and eat some good food and tell myself that it’s ok to be sad. I’m going to cry for the 10-year anniversary I never got to have, and list reasons that I’m grateful for life now. I’m going to lean on friends when I need to. I’m going to be extra gentle and patient with myself.
I planned for this essay to be written weeks in advance. I planned for this newsletter to be a respite from a not so light and fun time. I planned to celebrate tomorrow with Jamie by my side.
But that’s not how life works. Sometimes plans change, and you have to adapt. Sometimes you can’t force light and fun. Sometimes you need to give way to reality. Sometimes your sweet dumb brain needs to mull over some unanswerable questions. Sometimes the only option forward is to find grace and gratitude in whatever you’re facing.
This isn’t how I expected to spend my 10-year wedding anniversary. But I’m here to celebrate it, and to mourn that Jamie didn’t get that gift. I am somehow both incredibly unlucky and lucky in this moment.
I'll drink some champagne, ask some difficult questions, and trust that this will all get easier with time.
xoxo
KHG
Good job, brain
I'm currently reading: Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy
I’m currently inspired by: The benefits of solo travel, and exploring at your own pace.
I'm currently aiming to: Get through this griefversary with grace.
Additional resources
I've found a lot of peace in this fittingly titled poem "Ten Years Later," and this lovely conversation with its author, David Whyte, and Krista Tippett.
Here's my favorite part:
one small thing
I’ve learned these years,
how to be alone,
and at the edge of aloneness
how to be found by the world.
For your sweet dumb brain
I’d love to use this space to help guide you through some self-reflection. Each issue, I’ll share a different prompt related to the week’s topic.
So here goes: What are some of the biggest unanswerable questions in your life right now? Take a few minutes to write them down. Do any of them have answers? If so, cross those questions off your list. Now, look at the remaining questions. How do you feel looking at this list? Sit with that feeling.
There are no right or wrong feelings, just as there aren't always answers. Sometimes the unknown is ok.
My Sweet Dumb Brain is written by Katie Hawkins-Gaar. It’s edited by Rebecca Coates. Photo by Jules Bss on Unsplash.