I Forgot to Breathe, then I Remembered I’m Alive

Working at a cemetery does something to you. They don’t talk about this enough within the funeral industry or the office walls, nor they do they give you enough space to really process the work you do. It’s forced emotional detachment combined with compartmentalizing, but I was never good with the first one. My work became an endless daily reset of property location, logistics, counseling, planning, empathy, and holding emotional space for strangers. I don’t regret the work. And it was very difficult to leave my clients because who, would take care of them once I was gone? I never emotionally detached enough to not see them as people that I cared for deeply.  

But I was slowly suffocating under the expectations and weight of my duties. I often worked 6 days a week. I saw things that I didn’t want to see, both physically and emotionally. I lost clients that had become friends. One of my clients gave me Steve the Cat! But I also couldn’t support them the way my soul called for me to support them. I was a grief counselor without the title or certification with the job expectations focused on sales not client care. And I cared, deeply. I had three past clients call me this week to check-in, all of them saying the same thing: “I wouldn’t have made it without you.” I am not sharing this to seek personal validation, but rather to illustrate the level of openness required to have a meaningful impact on others. I'm humbled to have made an impact. 

Earlier this year, after getting a concussion, I could not serve my client families as well as I wanted too. The places where I was burnt out, over-extended, overwhelmed, and exhausted from extreme responsibilities started to show. I was impatient. I was snarky. I was dead inside, and I was going through the motions – which I knew was not fair to my clients. They deserved someone patient, kind, present, and alive. So, I made a plan, and I turned in my resignation. I had a little savings, a few opportunities on the horizon, but no backup plan. No “job” to transition into. I leaped, knowing (hoping) that the net would appear.  

I became my own client and I’ve spent the last few months remembering how to breathe.  

This has looked like: 

• Rest 

• Silence 

• Traveling & Planning future trips 

• Making art 

• Reconnecting with family & friends  

• Swimming & Hiking & Laying down on the forest floor 

• Recommitting to Rotary 

• Reading lots of books 

• Therapy & Journaling 

• Self-Study, Meditation & Prayer 

• Recommitting to healthy lifestyle 

• Putting myself and my sovereignty first  

• Setting new boundaries 

• Making my Home my Sanctuary 

• Dyeing my hair blue 

• Buying myself flowers every week 

I’ve been reminding myself that I’m alive. I have created the safe place that I craved. I have sat in silence. I have realigned my energy and my nervous system. I've found my new path to follow – this path – which feels grounded and clear for the first time in a long time.

I gave myself permission to unravel and dream again, and I want to give that to you.  

Be well, friend