Grief’s Subtlety.
I didn’t wake up one day to its obvious presence. No, it was much more subtle than that.
It seeped in like a slow drip that can go unnoticed until an entire home is ruined. At first, I felt its daggers only in short, intense bursts. Over time though, it made itself known in an inescapable way. It was always with me, my constant companion.
Grief has been such a large part of my life, for so long now, that I don’t remember what it feels like to not have it lingering near. No matter how beautiful or joyful a moment, grief is always still present in some small way. I’ve had so much loss over the last decade that no matter how much I rebuild, there always seems to be a greater sense of tearing down. I think part of that feeling is that I’m just now allowing myself to fully grieve and to welcome this process with open arms.
I’m also slowly learning that I actually don’t have to do anything with this grief. I just need to allow myself to feel it, in all its seemingly life-shattering force. I don’t have to fix it or transform it. I don’t have to do anything “right” and I don’t have to grieve the way other people expect me to.
Grieving the Possibilities…
Grief, while a universal experience, is lived out individually. I have asked for help and have leaned into my loved ones but at the end of the day, it is me and me alone who must feel every ounce of it. It’s me who must do the work to pull myself out of it and it is me who must decide not to give up.
Grief and all its messiness has come up for me in an extra potent way lately. I don’t think I can push it down or pretend that I’m over it any longer. I also don’t want to, but it terrifies me to think of what that might mean. My imagination runs wild with all that I stand to lose if I allow myself to fully grieve this past decade. There are ways that it will inevitably change me, ways that there is no coming back from.
What if I change so much that I lose everything?
I’m not sure what to do with this fear that sits like a lump in my throat. My stomach churns at its thought. I don’t feel strong enough or ready to face it and yet, I feel like I have no choice. The time is now.
The Beautiful SIde Of Grief
There is another possibility that comes up along side this fear. There is the beautiful possibility of expansion, the possibility that I inevitably step into my wildest dreams. There is a possibility that I become free from fear’s tight grip, that I become free from the chains that have kept me shackled to the pain and hardships I’ve faced. What if surrendering to this grief, embracing it, and loving myself through it allows me to see what I haven’t before? What if it shows me more of who I really am and more of the wonder in this seemingly broken world? What if this grief transforms me into the most big, bold, adventurous, loving, and capable version of myself possible?
The thought of this makes me question what the future will hold, but in a way that’s opposite to fear. Its thought brings a smile to my face. I’m doing my best to allow this possibility to flourish.
What if I change so much that I gain everything?
Thank You, Grief.
The longer I’ve traveled down this healing path, the more I am starting to see grief as the gift that it is. Grief is incredibly intelligent. It’s easy for me to loath it, blame it, and fear it but in reality, it’s a remarkable tool of transformation.
The process of grieving has been one of the biggest catalysts for my healing.
I used to loath it and all the emotions it brought with it, leaving rubble in its wake. I’m only beginning to see it as a necessary part of this human existence. Without the grieving process, there would be no moving forward. I would have been forever stuck in some of the worst moments of my life. There would be no closure and no healing.
Without grief, I probably wouldn’t be here now writing these words.
I’m doing my best to let grief crack me wide open, to let in the light. I’m practicing holding opposing emotions with grace and surrender. The more I allow this grief fully into my life, the more I am able to allow joy and play and happiness in too. The more I allow myself to grieve, the more present I become.
I think that’s the goal… or at least it has become mine. I just want to be more present in this life. I want to soak it all in. There is so much heartache and pain offered by this world. I don’t want to be frozen by it. I want to live in the nuance, finding beauty where it seems there is none to be found. I want to offer it to others, that they too might be reminded of their own magic.
It’s so easy to lose ourselves in this world.
What if instead, despite all odds, we find ourselves? What if we heal in spite of what’s happening around us? What if we can be the catalyst of healing for this world?
What if grief is a world-changing gift?