Tag: Grief

At Peace With the Unknown.

It takes great courage to grieve. At times, we may feel trapped – perhaps, imprisoned by our pain. Though, there is a natural cause and order helping to influence our acceptance and understanding.

This morning as our nation mourns the loss of over 50 beautiful human souls, we may struggle to understand the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ – a desperate attempt to place boundaries at the edges of a rapidly growing abyss.

We may cry over the shock of an unexpected loss, withdrawing into the sanctity of our deeper heart. Or, we may be silent in the wake of an overwhelming fear, hopeful that our prayers might soon find their way.

Though, how can we heal in the face of such adversity?

As children, we are encouraged to ‘dry our tears’ – to be toughened by the experience, rather than softened through it. In doing so, we lose our capacity to grow our understanding; to come face to face with the genesis of our own tears. We begin to embrace, and subsequently trust, the truth of our pain.

Only then, can we finally begin our healing. And the vulnerability we once feared, becomes our saving grace.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

When Loss Makes Us Better.

I remember the night my father died, a panicked rush of past-midnight calls and crying pleas for me to rush home.

Even under the best of circumstances, there would have been no way for me to make it to his bedside. Instead, I sat alone – head in hands and cried.

As children, the image we hold of our parents is an indomitable one. We view them as our comfort and security; a kiss to the forehead melting our troubles of day. But as we grow older, our roles somewhat change – we go to school, we take a job, we marry and move away.

Though inevitably, our view remains the same.

It’s difficult for a child to realize the vulnerabilities of their parents. We don’t want to relinquish that sense of always being protected; for many, we are terrified of being alone.

The image I held of my father was that of a warrior; a veteran of the Second World War, surviving the most terrifying of major battle campaigns – Normandy, Northern Africa and the Battle of the Bulge. His unit suffered catastrophic loss, counting just six from an original several hundred men.

When the news of the Nazi work camps finally surfaced, many couldn’t believe the reports. In their mind, they held an image of humanity – of compassion, of kindness, of good will towards all men. It wasn’t until they were faced with the atrocities directly that they finally understood the criticality and magnitude.

Freedom and honor were extremely important to my father. And, his life – a continuous reflection of adversity and rising above. Even when faced with imminent death, his last words to me – “Take care of your Mother and don’t worry about nothin’”

I miss my Father terribly. Not only was he my parent and teacher, but he was also my dear friend. In the weeks following his death, I felt a sadness unlike any I’d ever felt before – as if I were missing the better part of my own self.

In time, that grief became the source of my compassion. From that moment forward, I couldn’t help but to see another’s tragic loss.

We are all broken, each of us. And, each of us has lost something so incredibly dear. Yet, life goes on. And with it, our choice – to engage a legacy that was so graciously gifted.

We’re not just born, we become – and in this way, we are made better through this process of unfolding.

In peace…

Namaste ❤️

On Becoming Whole.

A young woman approached me the other day. I could tell that her heart was heavy; something in her voice hinted at the sorrow.

She had left her home in southwest Indiana hoping to make a ‘fresh start’, as the saying goes. But what she had run from met her here though in alternate form – a broken marriage, a failed reconciliation and subsequent financial woes.

Though her efforts were well-guided, she was still forcing her way through – convinced that ‘a life left behind’ was the only thing left to do.

“I just don’t understand how this happened,” she said. “We were so happy. Everything was so perfect.”

Like most of us she was struggling to find the truth. She wanted desperately to understand the lies, the deceit, and the ultimate degradation of trust.

Though, as Dogen once wrote: “If you can’t find the truth where you are, where else can you expect to find it?”

She had hoped the moved might offer the benefit of a new life; however, we can never escape that which requires our service. Though certainly change may help to facilitate perspective – it can not do so with closed heart and narrowed vision.

So often we mistake healing with a lessening of pain. Though, truly to be ‘healed’ is to be made ‘whole’ again. And how can we made whole if we’re constantly fleeing?

A little something to consider my loves…

In peace…

Namaste ❤

The Loveliness of Loss.

The pain in losing someone never really goes away – it simply becomes more familiar. The emotions associated, their physical manifestation – in time, become less foreign. And, those bonds which first threatened to imprison our heart become known as the inseparable within us.

Just as joy is found within each transformation of leaf – from robust gold, to the richest of green; a fiery pitch upon strengthened limb. So, too, are we revealed.

And, all that is beautiful finds its way home.

In peace, my loves..,

Namaste ❤️

The Forgiveness of Our Choosing.

Grief has its way, does it not? Of exposing the roots of memory’s tallest shadow – and, the seemingly irreconcilable aspects of heart.

We long for that which has passed; we plead for better days. We stand alone in the mists of our guilt-laden thoughts, fearful to allow soul’s forgiveness.

“Be thine own palace,” writes poet, John Donne. “Or the world’s thy jail.”

Yet, yielding ourselves to this expansiveness of light can often prove overwhelming. Though never, my loves – unbearable.

The truth is – we, ourselves, divine these fates. And, we alone, determine our journey.

Whether to suffer a pain tethered to past, or to encourage the wonderment of tomorrow.

Let this be our choosing.

To some, grief is an unwelcome guest. While to others, a guide to forgiveness.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️