As children and young people, some of us are very attuned to our surroundings, to gut feelings and hunches, dreams, and so on. But over time, life takes over and this intuitive aspect to us can be dampened down, either by ourselves or others, and is often not encouraged in mainstream circles. Mindfulness practice supports us to connect with our inner selves again, our minds and bodies, thoughts, feelings and sensations. We regularly check in with our internal happenings, but we also notice the finer detail in our surroundings, maybe even finding ourselves more sensitive to relational dynamics, atmospheres, nuanced tones. For me personally, the last six months have been very unsettled by grief and a feeling of being a stranger in my own life, as if I simply cannot fit back into it. And the reality is that I can’t, life feels very different in so many ways; it has taken on a new, deeper meaning.
Speaking with some dear friends recently, the old tradition of dressing in black for a full year after the loss of a loved one was mentioned. This dress code acted as a visible signal to give a mourner some leeway, to treat this bereaved one with tenderness and care. But life has gotten so busy for everyone nowadays that we may forget what is going on for someone else. Life goes on. The expectation is that we’re supposed to move along with it. We’re all different in our ways of coping with grief, I’m finding this loss particularly hard so I’m sticking with my own pace. I was very close to my brother Dermot and his death is having a profound impact on me. I have had other close bereavements in my life but have never known suffering like those initial months following his death. As a result, I am moving forward slowly, as gently as I can, honouring my grief when it comes and leaving space for it to subside, aware of human vulnerability and fragility. My mindfulness practice helps hugely.
Even though mindfulness meditation is a practical skill that can be learned in a secular fashion, which is how I mainly run my sessions, my personal meditation practice is a spiritual one. I believe that our loved one’s spirit lives on, that they walk beside us. I also hope for this with all my being, as it brings great comfort. This hope is affirmed by my lifelong ‘knack’ of arriving somewhere precisely at a time of disaster; I used to say it was a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, my experience of arriving ‘by chance’ in England on the first day that Dermot’s illness really took hold, has shifted my thinking. Because I was so blessed to be able to be by his side, I now believe my gift is to arrive in ‘the right place at the right time’. This trusting of an intuitive hunch, an inner feeling or a ‘knowing’ to be with someone or somewhere has served me well in my life so far.
And just as I spent those precious last weeks, days, hours, moments with Dermot, I truly believe that he is minding me now. I like to believe he is putting things in my way that will help me carry the weight of his departure from this life and that he continues to source kindness for me from some very unexpected people and places, that have already carried me through some very dark days. Kindness has enriched my journey in so many ways and in turn encourages me to pass it on to both friends and strangers and continue to live a precious, simple, helpful life. My short-term plan is to spend the lovely long months ahead, resting as much as possible, and allowing myself space to recalibrate and for things to unfold as they will.
I am fostering my intuition again, because after Dermot’s death, I immediately felt what I can only describe as a physical ‘draw’ or call towards the wilds of nature. I’ve had this strong, embodied yearning to be living closer to wild, raw, nature. I’m not sure why, but I suspect to heal myself and recover in a peaceful, natural place. I wanted this so badly and many of you will have heard that I have been on the lookout for a caravan or some other form of rural living. With Summer fast approaching, however, I had neither the energy nor the wherewithal to organise anything, until, without effort, a beautiful kind pathway opened before me, and I took a step forward. In short, through the pure and unsung kindness of old and new friends, I have found a place where my closest neighbours are rabbits, and the closest sound is birdsong. A simple, peaceful, healing place where I can rest and restore by letting nature be my guide. The right place at the right time.
Drop-in mindfulness hour at CECAS, Myross Wood, Leap on Tuesday mornings 10 – 11am, May 6, 13, 20 and 27, 2025. €12. Beginners and newcomers are always welcome.
Slow down those busy thoughts – a mindfulness workshop for Clonakilty wellness week, May 19 at Clonakilty College of FET, Western Road.
Booking essential.087 2700572 or email: susanoreganmindfulness@gmail.com
FB: susanoreganmindfulness
www.mindhaven.ie