I'm sorry.

I'm usually a woman of my word, and I was not.  

Just a few weeks ago, I said that next week we were launching The Compassion Collective, a place where you can feel supported while you support others, and I meant it.

And then life happened.

Not sure if you know this, but my family and I are moving across country.

That's right, we are saying goodbye and see you later to our beautiful community and life in Hood River, Oregon to return to the place where Ayla was born, Austin,Texas. You may have thoughts, feelings, questions, and maybe even judgments, and that is okay. 

The truth is CHANGE can be HARD and CONFUSING, even when we choose it. This is a perfect example of the definition of grief we use at The Grief Recovery Institute, "the conflicting feelings that come at the end of or change in a familiar pattern of behavior." As Ayla, my 5.5 year old daughter so eloquently put it, "moving comes with a mixture of emotions. I feel sad, and I feel excited. I even feel scared."

She couldn't have described my feelings more accurately. Now, moving with all the grief it includes does not take into account officiating my sister-in-law's (and now brother-in-law’s) Covid compliant wedding, saying goodbye to our nanny, oh and don't forget a global pandemic and the social change afoot... no wonder I have been all over the emotional map. 

Taking one baby step each day and being present to ALL of my feelings is literally the best I can do at this point.

Did I mention we have a 2 and 5 year old?!

As I write this I almost feel a sense of pride for how well we are doing and feeling it all.  

So coming back to my integrity and feeling the need to apologize. I had every intention to begin The Compassion Collective at the end of July (3 days before our lease ended) and then I realized just because I CAN, does not mean I SHOULD. 

What I wanted -- to launch, to grow the world's compassionate communication and connection, to give you support in your tough conversation, and the list goes on.

What I needed – to slow down, take a breath, focus on my family, moving, my officiating duties, and ultimately postpone the open door date to The Collective community by a few weeks (I will be announcing the new start date soon!)

Since another thing I stand for is self-compassion, and taking care of myself so I can more effectively care for others... this did feel aligned.

So there you have it.

I apologize for saying one thing and doing another. AND I appreciate your compassion for me and my experience.

What I hope you gain from this email is PERMISSION to take care of yourself, as well as permission to apologize. It is never too late to say sorry, and it does require some humility:).

If you have no idea what I am talking about with The Compassion Collective, check it out here.

Here's my intention once we get settled in a couple weeks: we do what we said, and we launch The Compassion Collective Community Membership, a place where we will make my tools and guidance easy and accessible for more people... people who genuinely care about others and who just don’t feel 100% confident navigating those big emotional or confrontational situations with ease.

Because let's face it, every day we are faced with uncomfortable conversations that would benefit from a little extra compassion. This includes topics like social distancing, boundaries, school leadership, virtual connection, navigating family relationships, and communicating feelings of vulnerability, insecurity, grief, and anxiety in times of uncertainty. 

Walking my talk means having this tough conversation and others, loving myself even when I unintentionally disappoint others, apologizing for my part, and then working to continue evolving and improving along the way.

Thanks for your support, love, and understanding through this transition.

Join the waitlist at www.laurajack.com/waitlist if you haven't already, and we will begin our journey together soon.

Below is the couple I had the privilege to officiate for this past weekend. They are as beautiful inside as they are outside. 

Father's Day, like all holidays, can come with some baggage.   Like Christmas, Valentine's Day, or it's close relative, Mother's Day, Father's Day can bring up unresolved grief.  

While Father's Day is traditionally about honoring your dad and setting aside time to say thank you, this can be a challenging day for someone who has unresolved grief.  

When I say grief, remember, it doesn't necessarily mean that your dad has died, as “grief is the conflicting feelings that come at the end of, or change in, a familiar pattern of behavior.” Grief come in many shapes and sizes.  Perhaps your relationship with your dad isn’t what you hoped or dreamed it would be, your dad wasn't around when you were growing up, your parents divorced, or perhaps you’ve never even met your biological father, etc.  Since family can be complicated, it is important to remember Father's Day can be too.

If your dad has died and you miss him, this may be a special opportunity to spend time doing things you loved doing with him.  You can also consider doing something that he loved. I encourage you to set aside time to honor him in whatever way feels good to you.

If you have a less than loving relationship with your dad, living or dead, this may be a good opportunity to be kind to yourself. Perhaps do something for yourself that you wish your dad would have done with you or for you. Some people try to make amends on this day.  If that feels like something you would like to do, let me just give you a couple tips.  

1) If you want to forgive him, please note that forgiving people who have not apologized may come across as an attack.  Perhaps you can forgive him in your heart and not to his face.  
2) If you have an expectation of the response you want, you may be setting yourself up for disappointment.  Go into any interaction with your dad without an agenda, an open mind, and an open heart.  

As we say at the Grief Recovery Institute, forgiveness is not about saying what they did is okay, it is about letting go of resentment so that we can be free.  

So, as you go throughout this day, I want you to remember that it is normal to have feelings of sadness, longing, or just wishing things were different, better, or more.

Give yourself permission to feel however you feel and know that you are not alone in those feelings.  While I am fortunate to have a loving relationship with my father, Father's Day makes me sad because it makes me miss my mom.  She was always really good at making Father's Day special for my dad, which often leaves me not knowing what do for him.  

Whatever your story is, please know that you are not alone.  If you have the best dad or the worst dad; if your dad died or you sometimes think that would make it easier;  if your relationship with your dad is complicated and healing, or simple and growing; please remember that there is nothing wrong with you.  

You may look around today and see a whole bunch of people looking happy and celebrating their father, and you may even be one of them.  Just know that underneath the surface, everyone has a story, no one is perfect, and we are all just trying to figure it out.   

I hope that reading this message allows you to find peace this Father's Day.  To all the Father's out there, good and bad, who gave us life-- thank you.

For more support around grief and relating to one another more kindly through the challenges of life, subscribe to our newsletter and download the Compassion Code Starter Guide here.