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's Journey
When my life was turned upside down in my 20s, I unconsciously chose the escape strategy (keeping busy, indulging in sweets, binge-watching videos, drinking until falling asleep—the list goes on).
But it didn't work at all!
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I stayed stuck in the same place of pain, frustration, confusion, and anxiety.
​Fast forward to my early 50s. Experiencing the loss of my husband, cross-country move, and career change within a year was overwhelming to say the least. This time, I didn't take the escape strategy, though. I took a radically different approach and created a new life I continue to cherish.
HERE IS HOW I FOUND A NEW PATH.
My Midlife Transition: The Story of Transformation
The captain took us a few miles into the Gulf of Mexico. He anchored his charter boat and said, “Here we are.”
I opened the cremation urn and poured my husband’s ashes into the ocean. I watched them disappearing into the water, into eternity.
My husband of twenty years was gone forever. He was my best friend, father of our son, protector, supporter, business partner, creative collaborator, and soul mate. He was in every aspect of my life. As I watched him return to nature through a veil of tears, I saw my life was gone too.
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The next day, I visited an art museum known for a Renaissance-style building, European paintings, and a lovely rose garden. It used to be my favorite place in town. I wanted to surround myself with beauty to heal my wound and receive lively energy. Instead, I was crying all the time. My husband was everywhere. I was following his shadow cast over the masterpieces. In the rose garden, I stood apart from visitors enjoying the fragrant flowers. Their laughter didn't echo with my icy heart. I felt the deep divide between joy and me. I existed in the world but was not participating in it.
My career, house, and other things I had treasured lost their magic. They died with my old self. I needed my new life to emerge from the ruin of the old one, but there was no sign of it. I didn’t know where to live, which new career to pursue, or how to spend the rest of my life. The only thing I knew was I needed to go away for a while. I could not heal and rebuild my life in the house where my husband had passed away.
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I decided to rent out my home for three months and spend that time in Asia: Learn temple dance (my passion back then) and deepen my understanding of yoga and Ayurveda in India, followed by pilgrimages to Sri Lanka and my home country, Japan.
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“Good plan, Sari,” my friend smiled at me.
“Keep yourself busy. That’s the way to get over this tough time.”
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I have done it, and it didn't work!
After twenty years of practicing mindfulness, I understood that fully acknowledging my pain instead of avoiding it was the only way to move through the most challenging transition of my life.
I TRUSTED THE MINDFULNESS PRACTICE OF STAYING IN THE PRESENT, NOTICING RISING EMOTIONS AND THOUGHTS, AND LETTING THEM GO WOULD GUIDE ME THROUGH THE DEEP VALLEY OF MY LIFE.
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Three months later, I was walking on a lively street in India. Grief followed me everywhere: The wood carving of Ganesh I saw at a store reminded me of the birthday gift from my husband. The smell of curry brought back the Indian restaurant we liked. I saw him in the shabby bus and the village with roaming peacocks.
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I created a daily routine to give some stability to my upended life: a sunrise walk and meditation, a yoga class in the morning, Ayurveda study and a temple dance lesson in the afternoon, a sunset walk, emailing my son and friends, and journaling my heart out before going to bed.
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Every night, I congratulated myself for completing another day in a foreign country. Whenever sorrow overwhelmed me, I sat and closed my eyes. I took deep breaths and opened my heart to pain instead of escaping it. While sobbing, I watched the emotion rising, forcefully expanding until peaking and eventually disappearing. It was a demanding process. But the more I practiced it, the more I got used to dealing with my painful emotions.
WHENEVER A TSUNAMI OF EMOTION ATTACKED ME,
I KNEW I COULD RIDE IT: IT WOULD SOON BE OVER.
Nature brought me some solace during the tough time: the pond filled with water lilies, the brightest orange sun setting over the river, sleeping dogs curled up in the perfect circle. Indian people warmed my heart: my dance teacher who showed me graceful movement of a maiden deeply in love with God, giggling ladies taking photos with me at a temple ceremony, a gentleman who helped me catch a tuk-tuk (auto-rickshaw) and prepaid the fare without telling me.
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The beauty and kindness found in the ordinary helped me reach the end of the day. My dear friends and family sent me love and support. I mourned for the loss of my husband and my old self with the safety net held together by nature’s blessings and the kindness of my supporters and strangers.
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In Sri Lanka, grief still cast a deep shadow on me, but a sense of peace returned at Buddhist temples, even if only for a short time. The site of worshippers in white clothes dedicating lotuses to Buddha statues soothed my heart. The fragrance of incense calmed me. I felt protected and nurtured.
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I enjoyed learning about sacred sites and natural areas I planned to visit. I started taking selfies. One day, I caught myself looking forward to the next day. Joy was still elusive, but peace came to me more often.
I SAW THE LAY OF LIGHT NOW SHINING INTO MY DARK VALLEY.
"Okaerinasai (welcome back)," an immigration officer at Narita International Airport politely said while stamping my American passport.
Japan received me with open arms. I immersed myself in the serenity and grace of the ancient capital of Kyoto. Every temple, shrine, and garden I visited embraced me with healing energy and the magic of beauty. I was home.
One early morning, I was walking through the tranquil Jakko-in. It is known as the nunnery where Kenreimon-in, an empress-turned-nun in the 12th century, spent her last days in solitude. Her entire family perished in a great sea battle. She tried committing suicide to follow them but was rescued and taken back to Kyoto. Following the custom in those days, Kenreimon-in became a nun and spent the rest of her life praying for the souls of her diseased family.
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On my way to the main hall, I saw a beautiful snake crossing the path.
It was my husband.
A warm feeling of tenderness, caring, love, and appreciation emerged. It was fast filling my heart, softening and melting its wall. The golden sunlight spread over me. The feeling kept rising and was about to flood over.
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What should I do with it?
Share it, a voice came from deep inside.
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With whom?
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There was no response, but it was okay. My heart knew I was now on a new path. I would wait for three years to find an answer to my question.
HELPING OTHERS GROW THROUGH TRANSITION AND FLOURISH BECAME MY PURPOSE.
My Committments
Equal Opportunity
I believe everyone deserves transition guidance regardless of income level, gender identity, ethnicity, or background. I discuss payment options with those with financial challenges. I also offer free resources on my website and newsletter.
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Confidentiality
Building trust with my clients is very important to me. I will not disclose any information that clients share with me during our guidance relationships.
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Giving Back
I am thankful for the support I received during the most challenging phase of my transition. To express my gratitude, I support non-profit organizations that help people cope with change and transition, including Women for Women International, The International Rescue Committee, and GirlForward.
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Walk the Talk
I have been in a transition, too! I apply to myself the transition strategy, tips, and practices that I share with my clients, including the Full Emotional Experience Work©, mindfulness practices, and body-heart-mind exploration programs. To gain more clarity in times of uncertainty, I take silent retreats at the Wuji House, the serene retreat cottage my partner and I offer in the scenic Texas Hill Country. My guidance programs get richer and more effective as I evolve through change.
