Grief

It’s so strange to dance between the light and shadow of love; the light and shadow of loss. To know love is to know loss, and to know loss is to know love. Are they two sides of the same coin?

Is it only through the threat of loss that we awaken to the deep love we hold for someone or something?

Grief is love that never found its way home.

I don’t want to continue being grief-stricken. I want my love to find it’s way home before it’s too late.

It’s easy to get lost in grief. It crashes in like ocean waves and rips the ground right out from under you. It can rush so loudly past your ears you can’t hear anything else over the roar, indefinitely sputtering foamy salt water as hot tears burn your eyes… and sometimes, we need to feel that and simply stay helplessly present in our drowning loss.

But to linger in these choppy waters will only seal the fate of being dragged to death by the undertow.

How can I gently float atop the chaotic current until I’m washed up on the sand?

I suppose it comes down to how can I continue to shift this moment from happening to me into happening FOR me.

How is this grief crystallizing into the next step on my journey forward? How can my heart crack open even wider? How can this pain become the sweetest homecoming to my own self? How can I lighten my load but still carry close what is precious?

How does this moment serve the visceral unfolding of my soul?