Message from a Monk

a thanksgiving love note

Last night I went for a long bike ride by myself cruising along the ocean, admiring the Christmas lights on palm trees, gazing at the stars and I realized something - I am no longer sad to be alone.

A year ago being alone was painful; it hurt my heart. It was difficult to go to sleep alone, wake up alone, eat alone and live alone. Being home alone on a Friday night with no plans was extra depressing. Then I would try to hang out with friends and that hurt too. If I was around a group of people, I felt completely overwhelmed. I didn’t know how to act or what to say. If I attended a party and was around “happy” people, I felt like running out the door. I found a happy medium with a few select friends where one-on-one I could be myself, which was sad and heartbroken. With these friends I didn’t have to pretend I was okay because I wasn’t. My whole world had fallen apart and figuring out how to put the pieces back together took all my energy.

I had no capacity for anything other than navigating each day, one at a time. The things I was navigating included finding a place to live, figuring out how to get divorced, talking to lawyers, going to mediation, trying to divide up assets while feeling extremely guilty for leaving my marriage and being villainized for my decision, doing intense therapy, watching the real estate market in hopes of buying a home, finding roommates because rent is so expensive on Maui, plus working full time.

For about a year, I became a hermit. For about a year, I was lonely. I was grieving. I was restructuring my life. Being alone for the first time in over 12 years was incredibly difficult and yet at the same time I wanted to be alone. I needed to be alone. I needed to sit with myself. I needed to sit with the pain and the heartache. I needed to grieve and cry. I needed space.

This is why it is monumental that today, I am perfectly content being by myself. Not just content, I enjoy it. I don’t mind eating alone, walking along, biking alone and living alone.

Are there still moments where there are pangs of loneliness in my heart? Absolutely.

Are they few and fleeting? Sure.

The thing is in the year of restructuring, I have built a life for myself that I absolutely adore. I went for a long walk this morning and my heart was so full, I held back tears.

Yesterday I read a message from a monk that I wanted to share:

“Gratitude is not pretending everything is perfect.”

Bhante Sujatha, the Loving Kindness Monk

This quote hit home for me because so often we try to force ourselves to feel or be grateful in situations where we aren’t really. Last year on Thanksgiving, I did not feel grateful that my marriage had ended. I did not feel grateful I lost my home. I did not want to be grateful for the circumstance I was in.

Gratitude doesn’t have to take the same shape or form in difficult situations. Gratitude doesn’t always need to feel warm & fuzzy. Gratitude can come through accepting that our human world is imperfect.

To me, gratitude is loving yourself through the imperfection. Gratitude is choosing to see the beauty in the world even in the face of adversity and injustice. Gratitude is choosing to keep your heart open even when things fall apart.

Even in my lowest moments of the last year, I was still enamored with life. I still saw the beauty in the sunrise and sunset. I allowed myself to be wowed by the magic of Maui and the turning of the earth. I took each round of balling my eyes out on the floor as proof of my aliveness. I gave thanks that my heart held me up through the lowest of lows. Looking back, I know that those moments that threatened to break me where also the ones that radically opened my heart. Those moments showed me who I really am.

Now today, I can say I am grateful for it all.

I am grateful for you & sending so much love.

xo, Naomi

P.S. in case you missed this, for anyone struggling this holiday season I’ve created a Holidays are Hard mini session. Together we will identify what things are most stressing or taxing about the holidays and come up with plan on how to address them in a way that feels good to you and loving for those you care about. $33 for a private session, click here to book.