Death of an old self

Death—whether losing someone physically or experiencing a “death of the self”—is many things.

Mostly, it’s inconvenient.

Dying itself is inconvenient. It’s messy and on its own time table, plodding along slowly, agonizingly, the suffering prolonged. Sometimes the way you knew yourself to be and everything you thought you wanted dies slowly, while you cling to it and try to resuscitate it. 

Then, at other times, loss is suddenly accelerated—without warning, someone is gone, or you find that the “you” that you knew yourself to be is just *done.* You realize something about your life and what you actually want, and you cannot go back and un-see what you now have seen and understand so clearly.

There’s no schedule. There’s no plotting it neatly into your quarterly calendar.

The grief that comes with death is inconvenient. Two steps forward, one step back, some days you’re fine, other days you’re not. 

In the aftermath of loss—of a person or of an old self—you might find yourself trying to recreate the past, to go back to the last familiar point you knew on a map, to anchor yourself there because it was the last time you felt sane. 

It probably will not work, but you are forgiven for wanting to try.

Not everyone will understand what it looks like as you experience loss of a person or of an old self. Irrationally, after someone is gone you may feel angry at them for going (even though of course, with physical death there’s often no choice in the matter). 

And the death of an old self? People will feel entitled to explanations, or think you could have handled it differently or better.

They are probably right, but again—death is inconvenient. Promises you made to others before your previous conception of yourself “died”—this is who I will be for you, this is how I will show up for you, this is what I can provide for you—are suddenly gone. There’s nothing to do except try to make aligned moves, wherever you can, while understanding that because death is inconvenient, because you didn’t “see it coming” any more than the people inconvenienced by the change could have seen it coming, people are entitled to their disappointment, frustration, anger, and loss.

Death is also impersonal. It’s not about “fair." It’s the cycle of life. Something is born, eventually it dies. Who you are today, was born of your life experiences and choices and eventually that “self” passes.

But really, the important thing is not to let the pain of something passing eclipse the opportunity for rebirth. 

When someone passes, you have an opportunity to “rebirth” how you orient life, without them.

When an old self passes, you have an opportunity to “rebirth” how you orient life, from a new vantage point.

It’s not easy.

It’s messy and inconvenient.

It’s also necessary for growth.