This past week, I found myself captivated by the Italian series "Lolita Lobosco" on PBS. The story follows a woman detective uncovering the hidden life of her late father—a man she spent years resenting, believing him unworthy. After his death, she learns he had been quietly fighting against injustice, risking everything to protect others, especially her. It struck me: how often do we live with incomplete stories—failing to truly understand others or feeling misunderstood ourselves?
The holiday season is often a time for reflection—a chance to gather with loved ones, if you have them, but also a reminder of the empty spaces left by those we've lost. People pass away, circumstances change, and life moves on. But what do we do with what remains, especially for those without family? Do we distract ourselves with work, vices, or endless scrolling? Do we retreat into solitude, seeking solace in self-care? Or do we look outward—connecting with the world, contributing to our communities, or filling our time with the noise of parties and celebrations?
Choosing Our Path Forward
When life shifts unexpectedly, it often feels like we’re standing at a crossroads.
Distraction: It’s tempting to fill the void with noise—shopping, gambling, drinking, anything to escape the ache.
Engagement: Others throw themselves into action, reaching out, volunteering, or building something new.
Withdrawal: Sometimes, the safest choice feels like retreating into ourselves, curling up in a blanket, finding peace in introversion or reflection.
Self-Care: For some, moving forward looks like prioritizing personal well-being. Travel can be a powerful way to do this—immersing ourselves in new cultures, stepping away from the familiar, and gaining perspective on our lives. For me, this choice is not running away; it’s choosing renewal.
None of these choices is inherently wrong. Sometimes, distraction is a temporary lifeline. Other times, withdrawal is the rest we need. And often, travel can be both a form of healing and a way of finding connection. Eventually, though, life asks us to pick up the pieces and decide what we want to build next—if we listen.
The Small Things That Matter
Not every act of moving on has to be monumental. We often underestimate the power of small, intentional gestures. Talking to someone who looks lost (it’s happened a lot downtown Chicago), smiling at a passerby, having a conversation at your local coffee spot, or even just listening without judgment or comparison can ripple outward in ways we may never see.
Travel, too, can be part of these small moments. Sitting quietly in a new city’s park, sharing a meal with a stranger, having a visit with God, or simply observing the beauty of a place we’ve never been can be transformative. It’s a reminder that life exists beyond our immediate pain or challenges—and that there’s still so much to discover.
A Final Thought
As we navigate the holidays, loss, and the quiet moments in between, I invite you to pause and consider: What will you do with your pieces? Will you distract yourself? Withdraw? Self care? Or will you, in some small way, take a step forward? Whether it’s reaching out to others, packing a bag and heading somewhere new, or simply allowing yourself to rest and recover, know that there’s no wrong answer. We are all on our own journey.
Life moves on - and so can we. 🥰🫶♥️
(Photo by Denys Nevozhai on Unsplash)
“I Lived” by OneRepublic, from the album Native. © 2014 Mosley-Interscope.
