Holding Loss and Transition with Care

It has been a while since I have written to you all. My summer has been full of little breaks and adventures around the UK – dog-sitting in Stroud, running workshops on regenerative activism at Buddhafield festival, spending time with my brother, who lives in New York, on the north Norfolk coast.

I also finally completed the long, drawn out process of selling my father’s house – the house in which he died two and a half years ago (and my mother 6 years before that). The house that I lived in for three years when I was jobless and recovering from burnout, the house of many Christmases and family gatherings, and where Dad and I spent many a moment together discussing politics, Palestine, my career aspirations, our favourite albums or TV shows.

I have also been clearing out my own flat – knowing that soon it will be time for me to move on, though to where at this stage I do not know. As I was going through old items belonging to my father that I had kept hold of – his reading glasses, pieces of clothing, even a fancy dress wig he comically wore once for a party – I found tears welling in my eyes. Gosh, the hardship of letting go of old identities, old ways of being, old routines we thought would never change.

And this got me reflecting too about the state of the aid sector right now. How many of us are being forced to let go of old identities there too. And, like losing a loved one or a home we always returned to, it is aprocess that takes time. It doesn’t just happen overnight. We can be so attached to our identities and routines that we forget that one day they may (will) come to an end, and so letting them go can bring up huge struggle and resistance.  

I share this as maybe you feel this too. The beautiful, sad, deep heartfelt sharing I have heard in my online Circle of Practice this year have shown to me that the grief from this moment – this moment of system collapse, of unfolding genocide, of heightened division and violence around the world – is very real and cannot be skipped over in order to find the answers.

The practice of letting go

Even in the midst of the urgency that may come with needing to find a new job, pay the rent, support one’s family, respond to personal or world crises – there is huge value and importance in making space to grieve and let go of what is being lost.

Much of the last few months for me have been about surrender. Allowing the sadness, the fear, the need to control things to just be with me without pushing through it; without forcing solutions or jumping onto every single opportunity or invitation – work-related or otherwise – that comes my way. Aside from festivals and family holidays, I have been spending a lot of time alone in nature – as this is where my imagination and sense of hope thrive.

I have found myself saying ‘no’ to many things – including collaborations, business opportunities and even friendships that felt pressured or performative, or where I could not be myself. Knowing that it means my ‘yes’ is all the more clear and in my integrity.

Practising slow burn to resist burnout

Because I have allowed a bit more space for myself, I feel I am able to address the big questions with greater clarity and integrity. Questions like: What does the polycrisis, system collapse and this great unravelling we are witnessing mean for how I can be of service, live with purpose and contribute to a more peaceful, loving world?

I still sit with this question, and by doing so I know I am also resisting a culture which pushes us to perform, produce, achieve, show our worth in a fast and furious way. What I do next, what I am becoming, where I want to be – is all a slow burn process, in direct juxtaposition to the burnout I and many others have suffered as a result of working in a system (the aid sector included) that expects too much, too soon; and leaves people, plans and good intentions in tatters as a result.

I know too well it is not easy to resist a culture that we have grown so used to, where we have come to believe that there is no alternative. I was born into a family, social and working environment that has expected me to move, respond, take action constantly – and judges me when I do not. Resisting this culture, finding different ways of challenging systems of harm and oppression, whilst taking care of ourselves and our nervous systems, is a practice; one that is enacted not just out on the streets or in our workplaces but in a quiet sacred space where we hold ourselves or are lovingly held by others.

It is the time when we soften and surrender, allow grief to arise, be seen in our vulnerability, sit with others in our pain, connect with our heart’s longing and our most wild visions for the future. As much as it is the time we dare to speak up on social media or in our social or professional spaces. And a practice means we keep coming back to it, not as a one-off event, but as a habit we know takes a while to take root.

I will be sending more details about the sessions I will be offering over the next few months to support aid workers and change-makers with this process. But for now I simply invite you keep finding those moments that allow you to soften and surrender.

Where you can feel the slowing of your heartbeat, the relaxing of tensed muscles, more spaciousness in your thoughts. Where you can stop the constant “What next?” of your mind and be in the ”What now?” of your own body.

And where you can allow yourselves to not have all the answers, and not know how to respond; except for the response that is the most loving and kind towards yourself.

Announcements and Events

I will send details of the next Circle of Practice in my next newsletter, but if you cannot wait and would like to commit to one of the sessions before this year ends - please go ahead and book using this link, and I look forward to seeing you there!

I am now offering 1-2-1 holistic coaching sessions for aid workers and change-makers, and I cannot wait to share more about this with you in my next newsletter. But if you would like to find out more now about how I can support you, let’s talk! I offer a no-strings call, lasting up to 45 minutes, where we can establish what you are longing for, what support you need, and how I can help. It will include a breath or body based practice that will leave you feeling less weighed down and more energised and purposeful - regardless of whether you commit to further sessions. Get in touch to find out more.

In October Oxford Brookes University is once again running the annual certificate course, open to all humanitarian practitioners, on Resilience, Wellbeing and Mental Health Support in Crisis Settings. This online course has been running for the last few years and has been hugely supportive for dozens of humanitarian practitioners who want to integrate mental health and psycho-social support into their work and the support they give themselves and their colleagues.

Be part of this network of humanitarians learning new skills to build better systems of support and collective care in their workplaces. Book here.