Back in the mid to late 1990s, I was more of a fan of country music, seeing how it had evolved from twang to something… different. One of those artists that also evolved was Tanya Tucker, and one of the songs I listened to quite a bit was “Can’t Run from Yourself.”

This past week, I had scheduled a vacation to recharge and reset after what is typically a difficult January for work. What I hadn’t anticipated, is getting a phone call from my parents the night before I was leaving with some disturbing news. 

My mother is convinced that the time is near for both of them to say goodbye. I have no idea how true that is, but she believes it’s true, which means I have no choice but to believe it.

And as I tried to keep things out of my mind while on vacation, I realized that one really can’t run from themselves, and my advice last week about accepting and acknowledging came very much to the forefront of my mind.

One of the things I have to learn to acknowledge and accept is the fact that there’s nothing I can do to prevent things from happening. I have control over my life, to a great extent, but not anybody else’s.

This reminder is like realizing the batteries in the flashlights are all dead right before a N’oreaster! It’s an understanding that, despite our best efforts, the snow will come, and we must learn to stand in the storm, not because we’re unyielding, but because there’s a certain grace in acknowledging our vulnerability.

So, what can we do when we’re faced with some potentially bad news?

For me, in moments like these when I’ve got something troubling my mind, finding peace becomes paramount. One method I use is through grounding techniques. It reminds me of connection to the present. It could be as simple as feeling the earth under your feet or focusing on the rhythmic pattern of your breath. It doesn’t stop the storm, but it reminds me that now is the only thing that’s real.

Sometimes, embracing solitude can be a powerful ally. As I’m out here floating around in the Caribbean by myself, I’m finding some space to reflect, to grieve, and to honor my feelings without the noise of the world drowning them out. It’s in these quiet moments that we often find clarity and the strength to face what lies ahead.

Sometimes, I’ve been known to channel my emotions into something creative. Maybe it’s High Seas Karaoke, or just working on the blog. You know, emotions, especially those stemming from bad news, are potent. Channeling them into creativity can be a cathartic release. In Life After Losses, I wrote about creating mixed music tapes to help channel and communicate what I was going through. Whether it’s writing, painting, or even gardening, creating something new from the turmoil within can be a testament to our resilience and a memorial to what we’re navigating.

We can also lean on people. I recently wrote about “no man is an island,” and in times of distress, leaning on a community can provide the support structure needed to bear the weight of our worries. I don’t have that community at sea right now, so this one’s a little hard for me to put into immediate practice, but I do know that sharing our fears and uncertainties with others doesn’t make them disappear, but it can lighten the load, making it easier to carry.

Ultimately, coming to terms with the fact that we can’t control everything means embracing change with grace. It’s about understanding that while we can’t steer the direction of the wind, we can adjust our sails. It’s a lesson in humility and courage, recognizing that the only constant in life is change itself.

I’ve been “preparing” myself for this eventuality for years, ailment after ailment, yet they have always been resilient, and the fact of the matter is that resilience they have will give way, at some point. We prepare for the inevitable, but we live for the now. Always. My mom told me to continue with my plans and continue to live my life. I’ve no intention of stopping.

And so, as Tanya Tucker’s lyrics linger in the backdrop of my mind, reminding me that I can’t run from myself, it’s important to remember that wherever we go, our problems do indeed follow. But it’s not just our problems that tag along; it’s also our strength, our resilience, our knowledge, and our capacity to love and be loved, even in the face of adversity.

In facing the truth that we can’t run from ourselves or our circumstances, embracing our vulnerabilities and finding strength in them becomes our greatest power. Life is a journey of acceptance, of understanding that while we can’t control everything, we’re never truly powerless.