Reverb10. December 10.
Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out? (from Susannah Conway)
I am at a point in my spiritual journey where I am unable to simply see life as life. I see everything as a lesson to be learned, a gift to be opened, evidence of the Divine at work. I have no idea whether this is good or bad, helpful or torture. When Benjamin died, my head and heart kept volleying possible answers to why? I continue to unravel it, moment by moment. I don’t believe there is a definitive answer, though part of me hunts for it constantly, argues it like a dog gnawing a bone. It’s not that I need a reason for his death. Something was wrong. His body stopped. My body let go. Placental abruption. Surgery. The end of the physical story, the beginning of the metaphysical one. What I want, what I know I can’t have, is an answer that tells me in clear, well-defined terms how to prevent this kind of pain from happening again.
There are as many ways to grieve as there are humans grieving. The decision I am the most grateful to have made this year was to allow grief to wash over and through me. To allow the fallout from Ben’s death to slow me down, open me up, reel me in. I gave myself permission to feel it, to turn grief over in my hands and examine it. I believe that stepping into grief will allow me to step into myself and I am doing my best to honor what comes up.
Four and a half months into this process it is more difficult to create the space for myself. The pain is not as intense, the sadness is no longer my constant companion. Life gets busy. I have found ways to commit to the process and I wish I could do more. I resist my limitations and frustration mounts. Then I remember to turn in the direction of trust and know, on the deepest level I am aware of, that all is as it should be. All is well.
Then I remember that I know nothing, so I’d better enjoy the heck out of now.
Your paragraph on grieving are transcendent. I don’t have the words to explain what exactly I mean by that I just know I feel and innately understand what you are saying My losses are far different from yours but the human element is the same. Grief is as human as joy. It is a gift that allows us to know ourself. I watched the life leave my mother’s body. As I sat with her somewhere in my being I knew I was witnessing a miracle. Does that make sense? I’m not sure we, in our current form, have the understanding to get to the “why”. I just know it is good to be alive. HUGS TO YOU!
OOps… please overlook a few errors in that previous post. Very emotional stuff for me. 🙂
Jessica M. says
I’m glad you let grief wash over you. I’m glad when any BLM does that because like you said it allowed you to step into yourself. We all need that. It makes us who we are. (((hugs))) my friend. You mean a lot to me…
Beautiful post, in so many ways. I read somewhere that when you resist the emotions you’re experiencing, they become intensified. Your soul, psyche, what-have-you, wants you to feel those emotions in full, so that they can heal you. Regardless of how much they pain they cause at the time or how long it takes. (The way out is the way through.) Turning in to the pain as you are doing is brave, necessary, healing…
maria grasso says
Vivid and intimate description of your specific process, and grief in general. The word that kept coming to mind when I was reading it was COURAGE!