The Horizon of My Grief
announcements
New Year, No Yelling! Challenge
Join us for the New Year, No Yelling! Challenge this January. You don’t have to be a yeller to benefit from this online course - maybe you are working on perfectionism, checking out, or feeling overwhelmed. You’ll get a daily lesson, optional live workshops, and a community to cheer your wins and help you laugh at your mistakes. Register here and Use code newsletter for a 50% discount.
Opening Doors Conference
I’ll be presenting at the Opening Doors conference for parents and family members of folks with autism this Saturday at Stanford University. Register here.
Why You Suck at Giving Directions
Friday, December 6 at 12 PM PDT
Free
Join our free parenting workshop this Friday at noon pacific: Why You Suck at Giving Directions. In just 30 minutes, you’ll learn amazing tools that will have your kids following your directions with just one ask 100% of the time! Jk, I’m not a magician. But this approach will help your kids jump into action and decrease your frustration. Register here.
the heart of the matter
It’s been a shit time.
In August, my son had major surgery on his hip. He was diagnosed with a condition that causes the head of the femur to degenerate. He’s expected to make a full recovery, but in the meantime, the world’s most energetic seven year old had almost no mobility. My husband and I both took time off from work to care for him. He became really cranky. I think he was experiencing his version of depression. He got frustrated easily and was very bossy. He would tell me he’s thirsty. If I didn’t deliver a drink in 30 seconds, he might rage-scream, “I said I’m thirsty and you’re not doing anything!” He could only take a sponge bath, and he fixated on this meta-indignity on which to channel all his grief and rage. “I just want to take a normal bath!” he would scream every night. There was nothing we could do but empathize, support him through the frustration, and make sure the sponge water was the right temperature. Being around him was challenging. I was dedicating myself to his well-being, and often being berated and harassed in the process. It would’ve been easy to get resentful. But I didn’t. I could put myself in his position, and know that I would be even crankier if I was robbed of movement and freedom. It was fairly easy for me to stay calm, be patient, and gently remind him to be kind. “Hey! I’m in the process of getting you a drink. I would appreciate you asking in a nicer way.” I didn’t need to say more than this.
My older kiddo has been struggling too. He’s wounded - but it’s less visible. His anxiety has gotten harder for him to manage. It hinders him from doing basic functions like going to school or participating in family life. Asking him to take a bath is a nightly battle. He expresses his frustration in aggressive outbursts that change the family mood in a moment. It takes tremendous restraint to avoid getting drawn into power struggles. Sometimes I fail. The stress of this takes a harsh toll on the rest of my family.
Two weeks ago, we helped my beloved old lady cat pass away. The kids have known her their entire lives. I used to say she was the mom of our household; now I recognize that was problematic branding. Hugging and petting her brought calm to all of us.
Life is giving me an endless kick in the tenders.
I’m exhausted. My mind races with worries— is my teenager okay? Will my younger son’s recovery be smooth?—and at the same time, I feel sluggish, forgetting where I put my phone or struggling to string coherent sentences together. Decision-making becomes a monumental task.
I’m humbled by how grief forces me to slow down. When I try to bulldoze through it, my body revolts, demanding rest. I’m learning that when I honor what my body is asking for; a nap, a walk, or just sitting quietly for five minutes, I start to feel a bit more human.
Staying in the present moment has been my lifeline. I have a regular meditation practice, but more importantly, when I just keep my focus on the present moment, I usually find that we’re okay. I can notice and celebrate wins. My husband figured out how to turn my seven year old’s physical therapy into contests. Now he’s more eager to engage in “breaking his records”. There are times when my teen shows their hilarity. Sometimes I think about my cat and smile instead of cry.
My older son has no wheelchair or surgery scar, but his wounds are just as real. My learning journey is to see his pain and understand his behaviors as expressions of his hurt. My own pain is blocking my compassion capacity like debris damming a stream. I have to figure out how to unblock it or we all drown. I’m still figuring.
I’m not learning in transformative epiphanies, but by putting in the reps. Grief and frustration will be delinquent tenants in my home for the near future. So I’ll keep figuring out how to take care of myself. I’ll keep showing up for my family. I’ll keep wading through this swamp with no horizon. I’ll do so one cautious step at a time, with hope, faith, and tenacity navigating us all toward greater ease.
Post-script
Seven weeks after surgery, my seven year old was cleared to take a bath. We filled up the tub and added bubbles and bath bombs. I made him a mocktail. Every 20 minutes or so he would call me in to add more hot water. After two hours, I pulled a wrinkly, smiling, and pristine child out of the water. “I’m so lucky I get to take a bath,” he exclaimed.
we’re obsessed with
This poem. I was facilitating a healing circle, and one of the participants offered this poem for contemplation. Holy shit it went through me.
Instant Pot Arroz Caldo
Why Filipinos have a winter comfort food is a question worth exploring, but whatever the reason, I’m grateful for Arroz Caldo. I’m even more grateful that my husband makes it in the instant pot, so I don’t have any work to do. This should be everyone’s comfort food. Garnish with crushed chicharrones and lemon wedges.
This reminder that “having a purpose in life is bullshit”
where we’ve been
We facilitated a Youth Development Training at Kids’ Country in Danville, where we shared strategies for building positive relationships, managing challenging behaviors, and creating safe and supportive environments.
Ed Center facilitated a series of Healing Circles for nonprofit leaders sponsored by the City of San Francisco Department of Children, Youth and Families (DCYF). These powerful sessions provided a space for reflection, connection, and collective healing. Participants learned valuable tools for managing stress, building resilience, and fostering supportive communities.
We led an all-day training for staff at Mission Graduates on bullying, prevention and response. The training equipped staff with practical tools to identify, prevent, and address bullying behavior, creating safer and more supportive environments for all students.
Book a workshop for your school or organization.
Bring The Village Well to your school or organization. We provide powerful, interactive and fun workshops for parents and/or staff. Learn more.
Ed Center, the founder of The Village Well, is a parenting coach and educator certified in the Triple P method. The Village Well is a community of parents in BIPOC families, focused on attaining more joy, calm, and meaning in family life. We coach parents to prioritize their own healing and wellness, deepen connections with their kids, and learn tools to support better behavior. Services include Parenting workshops, Parenting courses, and community events. Our support is culturally-grounded support and honors your unique family. Ready to stop yelling? Schedule a free consultation with one of our team members.
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