The "Worse-er" Case Scenario

In my conversations with hundreds of widowed people, I often ask about their worst-case scenario. Many people realize that the worst has already happened: a fault line divided their life into before and after, and the “after” is mostly unrecognizable.

This line of thinking is helpful to many, because if the worst possible thing that could happen has already happened, then we have some useful comparative value.

But how about as we navigate this life after profound loss? What is the worst-case scenario now?

Perhaps it is staying stuck in suffering. Or maybe it’s settling for less, assuming that the life we’re living now is as good as it gets. Or it could be sitting around waiting for time to heal, feeling miserable in the meantime. Perhaps it’s staying paralyzed in fear, or kicking yourself for not getting anything done, day in and day out.

I would also offer a “worse-er” case scenario: not creating the very best-case scenario.

I once thought that if my life were somehow good again, it would dishonor my late husband.

I was at the cemetery lamenting that all I could do for him was bring flowers to a grave. Just after I got back in my vehicle, the notion hit me hard: that the thing I could do for him was live. As in really LIVE again.

Now, I wasn’t really in “living” mode at that time. I was getting by. I was somewhere between surviving and existing. At a time when chewing food was exhausting, living sounded like a tall order. But I tucked the notion away and later, I gave it a lot of thought.

What would it look like to actually live again?

I realized that I  could live in a way that honors him; that the bigger I lived, the more I would honor him. I decided to live enough for us both: to dream big and take big steps and live this full life.

I realized that I could feel fear and act anyway, because I already know the darkest darkness. If I can feel the soul shattering grief and somehow still draw the next breath and will my heart to beat and step by step, get myself through each day, all the way to today, then what do I really have to fear?

I’ve been to the depths. Now I’m aiming for the heights - higher heights than I would have ever aimed for before my loss. Because now fear has nothing on me.

I won’t let his death define the rest of my life. But I will let his life inspire my life, and I will live my life big and bold enough for two.

If you’re wedged in the middle of your “worse-er”-case scenario and can’t see any way out, I understand. I created the program I needed, and it’s called Life Reconstructed. It is a powerful combination of coaching and community and it helps my clients create their very best scenario. Simply apply here and we’ll see if it’s a fit.