I watched, amused, as the young man spoke through gritted teeth, “Just take the picture!”  This man-child had his arm around his mother’s shoulders while his father snapped a picture saying, “You don’t start college every day, you know.  Smile.”  The younger man sighed with exasperation and walked briskly away, “No more pictures!”
 
This scene repeated itself across the campus as sentimental parents moved their children into dorm rooms.  The parents around me reluctantly pushed their offspring out of the nest even as the children were delighted to test their wings at last.
 
I too watched, misty eyed, as my daughter Elizabeth waved me off without the tiniest shred of ambivalence.  I was grieving even as my daughter was celebrating.  For me, a life chapter was ending; for Elizabeth, a new chapter shimmered enticingly before her. What would my new chapter look like?
 
The next day she called me, not to tell me she was homesick but to share her excitement.  As we chatted, I didn’t notice any of the ‘quit bugging me’ mentality that had shaded our interactions over the last few years.  In fact, I found her quite likeable . . . as if she was a new friend.  Hmmmm.  I think I’m going to like this new chapter, afterall. 

Expcerpted from the Newsletter,

 “Still Waters:  Tools and Resources for Living Deeply”

Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW is the author of

“Shortcuts to Inner Peace: 70 Paths to Everyday Serenity”

and

 “Transcending Loss:  Understanding the Lifelong Impact of Grief and How to Make it Meaningful”

Often when I get up in the morning, just as I begin the routine of showering, dressing, and eating, I am halted by my Zen master.  He insists that I stop, and asks me to be mindfully aware of the moment.  He stretches his black, furry body and meows.

Yes, my beloved black cat, Clover, is my guru of calm.  He visits me in the morning and insists that I still my chattering mind to be present with him.  He calls me to the floor and meows quietly in my ear.  He rubs against me, rolls on his back, and gently invites me to be aware of just . . . this . . . moment.

I find that animals are masters of mindfulness.  They live in the now, in the present moment, with no worries and no judgment.  For me, this lesson is necessary over and over again.  Most of us race through our days, rushing with thoughts and projects, deadlines and activities.  And whether we are feeling delighted or stressed, we find it hard to just be present.

Living mindfully (alert and aware without judgment) is a skill we can cultivate.  It helps to have triggers during our day to remind us to pause and be still for a moment.  A trigger could be a ringing phone, a chirping bird or your first sip of coffee.  Or, if you’re lucky, you might have a Zen master to teach you with an insistent, persistent ‘meow.’

*I first read of a Cat described as ‘Zen master’ in Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth

Expcerpted from the Newsletter,

 “Still Waters:  Tools and Resources for Living Deeply”

Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW is the author of

“Shortcuts to Inner Peace: 70 Paths to Everyday Serenity”

and

 “Transcending Loss:  Understanding the Lifelong Impact of Grief and How to Make it Meaningful”

I placed a phone call to an elderly woman who was recently widowed.  When the answering machine picked up, I didn’t hear the customary greeting of “We’re not home; leave a message.”  Instead, I heard a voice say boldly, “Donald left this earth on February 26^th but I’m happy to say that we had thirty-three wonderful years together and I will always be grateful for those years.  Please leave a message.”

This message was not only open about death, but it was also full of gratitude for life.  I was struck by her willingness to hold her grief and love simultaneously.  Most people associate grief with only deep sorrow and overwhelming pain.  This widow stood in the dark and looked out into the light of love.

I often pose this question to grievers: if you could eliminate all of your heartache and grief, but in exchange you had to erase the relationship that

photo by Rick Evans

 brought you so much happiness, would you want this bargain?  The answer is unilaterally “no.”  No one would ever give up the love in order to give up the pain.

Grief is always attached to a deep love, a special relationship, a dear gift. Our gratitude for the love that was, the love that is, and the love that will always be forms a web of strength that grows in intensity. When we shift our attention from loss to the love that endures, a spirit of gratefulness begins to bloom.  

Expcerpted from the Newsletter,

 “Still Waters:  Tools and Resources for Living Deeply”

Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW is the author of

 “Transcending Loss:  Understanding the Lifelong Impact of Grief and How to Make it Meaningful”

 To order a copy Click Here

I just returned with my family from an overseas vacation.  Traveling as a party of two adults, four teenagers, and one child is no easy feat, but we had a wonderful time.  Adventures were a daily affair as we drove across Croatia, exploring medieval towns.  

Being away, I developed a palpable sense of gratitude.  There was gratitude for the simple things:  for a restaurant just when we needed food,for a clean bathroom (!), for a bed after a long day of plane rides.

photo by Oleg Prigoryanu

And there was gratitude for the bigger things as well:  for our good health, for our safety, and for our togetherness.

Sometimes in the midst of our daily routines, we slip into complacency.   We forget to be mindful of the miracles and gifts that surround us in the moment.  We take our blessings for granted, oblivious to the fact that our lives are less solid and less permanent than we’d like to believe.

As I return to the comforts and familiarities of home, I’m confronted with a growing ‘to do’ list, a grocery list and an errand list.  But I also emerge from my jet lag with a new list of appreciations.  This gratitude list is my new daily template - far more powerful than the others and hopefully, far more enduring.

Expcerpted from the Newsletter,

 “Still Waters:  Tools and Resources for Living Deeply”

Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW is the author of

 “Transcending Loss:  Understanding the Lifelong Impact of Grief and How to Make it Meaningful”

 To order a copy Click Here

My first born child, my oldest daughter, is graduating from high school this month.  Thirty years ago, I also crossed a stage, mortarboard on my head, and reached for my high school diploma.  I bear witness to the cycle of life.

Although I happily leave much of high school behind me, one aspect that I particularly enjoyed was hanging out with my friends and having what we called ‘deep’ conversations.  The discussions felt deep when we talked about what is ‘underneath’ the surface of day to day living.

I liked ‘going deep’ so much that I became a psychotherapist, grief counselor, and writer — all avenues of helping people live and love more deeply.  I companion people as they go below the surface of their lives, pointing to the buoyancy, balance and calm that already exist within them.

When we allow ourselves to live deeply, we savor our inner connection to love and joy and begin to cherish each step along our unique paths.  Even as we take our final steps, even as we ‘graduate’ to whatever comes next, we can savor the calm and vibrancy of life that comes with living deeply.

Expcerpted from the Newsletter,

 “Still Waters:  Tools and Resources for Living Deeply”

Ashley Davis Bush, LCSW is the author of

 “Transcending Loss:  Understanding the Lifelong Impact of Grief and How to Make it Meaningful”

 To order a copy Click Here