loss

Endings

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 2 Comments

I’m writing this for the sake of transparency and to be open and honest about the vulnerability that comes with endings.

Endings: It seems that the work I have passionately nurtured over the past thirty years is coming to an end. I’m not going into the details of this because the details are boring and unimportant. What matters is that many people have been served and found benefit in my in-person and online courses and training programs. I am grateful to have been able to serve in this way and for the creative inspiration that brought these courses and services into being.

Endings: are weird. I should be sad, but I’m not. I have been sad and the grief has gone from despair to terror to writhing, to surrender. Today, I find myself resigned. As St. Paul said, “I’ve fought the good fight. (2 Timothy 4:7)” I’ve been obedient to the inner guidance that compelled me to create these courses and share them. I’ve done what I know how to do to extend invitations for people to participate. I’ve shown up as a facilitator and guide. For a time, people showed up to enthusiastically participate. Over time, that has dwindled. Now there is nothing.

Endings: It’s ok. “To everything there is a season….turn, turn, turn…” But I have to ask, what comes after reaping?

Endings: Nothing. Nothing comes after reaping.  After reaping is fallow time. It’s a time to rest and to wait. It’s a time to simply be. For now, this is what I’m doing. I know better than to beat bushes and chase after potential new opportunities. I know better than to try to hold up something that is already dead. I know better than to force something that is not yet ready to come into being.

Endings: Waiting in the no-thing is hard. Unfinished sorrows come up to be revisited. “Shoulda, coulda, woulda’s” whisper in our ears. With nothing to do we grow restless and impatient. We are tempted to try to “make things happen” when we are really only supposed to be anchored firmly in the void. Fears around survival make their appearance. “How will you pay your bills?  How will you cover rent? What will you do about money?” We are conditioned to act, but during these fallow times, our conditioning no longer serves.

Endings: Wait. Watch. Listen. Be present to whatever faces of grief and temptation show themselves. Refrain from doing or taking action until whatever is coming to take the place of what is ending shows itself. And know that the new, when it comes, will be obvious and exactly what I need at this place in my journey for whatever time I have left on this planet.

Endings: are a blessing for they clear the way for something new and better to take its place – often something we might never expect for ourselves and potentially something beyond our wildest dreams. I am willing to surrender to this ending so that new life might come in – whatever that new life might be.

Endings: another thing I’ve learned is that I am not in charge. Source/God alone knows what it has planned for me. “Let it be done to me according to your word.”

PS: for those who will want to worry, I’m really ok. Sad, yes. Unsure about what is to come, yes. And while I don’t exactly know what this ending will fully look like, it’s been a long-time coming. I’ve experienced endings before and know that here too, something is coming to take its place. It just hasn’t yet shown itself. Without my interference, it will and I will know it when it arrives. Thank you for your kind thoughts and support through this time of unknowing. Love, Lauri.

On the Verge of Tears

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / 5 Comments

As I read through the comments on Sunday’s blog, the energy and words I heard were, “always on the verge of tears.” I heard these words as true for me, and wondered if it has also been true for others.

I believe we have a lot to cry about.

As one who has been on the forefront of the human consciousness evolution, calling myself (among other things): lightworker, shadow worker, depth worker, healer, guide, prophet, witch, and starseed, I have been both witness to and participant in what many have called (incorrectly) ascension.

To put it in simple terms: I have felt a calling and a drive to be part of a movement to provide humanity with the healing it needs to live more fully from love and less from a place of fear. Since 1994, this work has consumed me.

It’s been a bittersweet journey. I’ve seen the benefit of deep inner work within myself, in my ability to parent my children, in my work with clients and in conversations with friends and collaborators. I have found a community of people in Oshkosh, and beyond, who are involved in similar and complementary work. I have established an online community of a few who are equally committed to being love in the world for the sake of the betterment of the human experience. I am connected with hundreds of people online who are committed to this kind of work through their own unique gifts.

And yet….I find myself weary. I know many others who have also grown weary.

Human beings are a stubborn lot. Firmly attached to the status quo. Resistant to change. Often seeing change-makers and visionaries as the enemies, leading some to resist that change through violence. It seems humanity would prefer to live in a world of hatred and fear than to do the deep inner work of healing that which causes them to be non-loving toward themselves and others.

Remember when this work was supposed to be completed by 2012?  (insert hysterical sarcastic laughter) How we find ourselves approaching the end of 2024 and not much has changed. Human beings are still making war and solving conflicts through threats of violence. Humans continue to be greedy, destructive, and jealous.

In short, humans kinda suck.  It’s why I refuse to claim membership within the human species. I’m not sure what I am, but not one who thrives on being cruel to other human beings. (admittedly, some might consider me cruel – but in reality, I just have really good boundaries!)

When I look at humanity, I feel sad. I’m sad that they would choose hatred over compassion, fear over love, violence over peace. I’m dumbfounded by the dogged clutching after separation, division, prejudice, and discrimination.

Perhaps I wouldn’t be so saddened by humanity’s choice if I hadn’t discovered another way. This “other way” was somehow present in my heart from the moment of my birth/conception. I also found that “other way” in the peace movement of the late 1960’s and early 70’s. I further found it in the social justice work performed by the church in which I was raised. Most acutely I discovered it in Jesus’ teachings – not as they were taught to me from the pulpit, but that which I discovered through my own meditation, prayer, contemplation, and study, additionally reflected in the spiritual teachings of the ancients whose books have fallen into my lap over these very many years.

I know I’m not alone in this. Everyone with whom I have been doing this work, talking about this work, supporting this work, speaks of “another way.” This “other way” came to us. We did the work to be healed by it and to be made more whole. We’ve tried to share it with others. We’ve even provided the resources and tools for human beings to learn to become this love themselves.

And yet…..here we are.

I am weary. I am sad. Pretty much every day I feel on the verge of tears. Tears over what? Not getting my way? Tears over all that I/we have given up to do this work? Crying over the things that could have been had we not been called into this movement of love? Weeping over what others seem to have/enjoy that were never an option for me/us? Tears over the friends, family, clients who feel away over the years? Grief over all those millions who have died simply because humanity refused to set aside their separation and learn how to love?

Indeed.  There is a lot to cry about.

And maybe this is part of the limbo I spoke about. Maybe we need this in-between time to process all we’ve been through. Perhaps we need this time to grieve – to grieve all we personally lost, all we were made to leave behind, all the difficulty and struggle we’ve experienced in choosing love over fear. Grieving all the times we’ve been misunderstood, ignored, ridiculed, condemned. Weeping over the deep loneliness that comes in doing this work.

If indeed we are at the end of something and preparing for something new to take its place, grief is not only predictable but appropriate.

When we feel on the verge of tears, the invitation is to embrace these tears as part of our grieving, and in giving those tears release, allowing healing to take its place. Or if you’re like me and you’re on medication that hinders your ability to cry, find those things that help to bring them on. Yesterday for me, it was watching the “Making of Mary Poppins” documentary on Hulu – the bird lady does it to me every time!

The Tangled Web of Grief

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

This weekend my heart is heavy over the many deaths this week which have been brought into my awareness, including the death of a close friend.

This has been an anxious week of vigil, waiting, and then “sitting shiva” over not only my friend’s death, but the deaths of so many others who I know either closely or by acquaintance. I’ve also been in the throes of grief – experiencing every face of grief, seemingly all at once. Denial, bargaining, anger, depression and sorrow.  In the midst of this grief, I also find myself tempted by self-judgment. I’m coming to believe this judgment may be part of the bargaining stage of grief. “If I hadn’t been foolish enough to care about this person then I wouldn’t be feeling so bad.” 

Death is hard and often brings up questions. Death is NOT a guarantee of closure. Death leaves many questions unanswered and conflicts unresolved. We can’t go back to clarify confusion or ask for explanations. All we can do is sit in the discomfort of vacancy and a whole lot of unknowns. Death brings confusion and there is nothing we can do to resolve that confusion. 

So we sit, and twitch. We pick at our wounds. We grieve. We battle our inner self-talk. We rage. We sit in the state of paralysis unable to do, or think, or even find stillness in being. In death, we are reminded of how excruciatingly human, vulnerable, and fragile we are, and we are invited to be with this humanness until we can accept this as who we are. 

Perhaps this is the stage of “acceptance” that grief experts speak of. It’s not about acceptance of the loss of the person we cared for, it’s about accepting the most vulnerable, wounded, and fragile parts of who we are and loving ourselves anyway.  

Join Me Beside the Hearth

/ Lauri Ann Lumby / Leave a comment

For over twenty-five years I have been a source of support for individuals through the most vulnerable and tender parts of their human journeys. I have counselled people through the unexpected death of a child. I have supported couples facing the “dark night” of their marriage. I have been a welcome guide and mentor in the human journey of spiritual growth and development. I have provided healing for those experiencing mental, emotional, and spiritual pain. I have been a source of support through midlife crises, divorce, job loss, empty nest, and other deeply transformational times of transition.

Whether working with me over the phone, via ZOOM, or in my home, you will find a warm and welcoming place here where you can step away from the chaos and unrest of the outside world and be supported in returning to your heart – for it is there you will find rest, peace, and the answers to life’s questions. My hearth-fire is always burning. You will find comfort and safety here.

With love,

Lauri

Email lauri@lauriannlumby.com to schedule a one-on-one session with me! We can meet via ZOOM, over the phone, or in my home if you are local. My suggested fee is $165.00 per session and I offer a sliding scale for those for whom $165.00 would be a reach. Don’t hesitate to reach out!