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Rediscovering joy in the changing seasons
I don’t like that my thoughts have turned all melancholy. But you know, it’s ok that they have. Just because the sun is out and the snow is melting doesn’t mean that I have to be happy, happy, joy, joy. Grief and sadness over what or who we have lost simply won’t allow it. And that’s ok. That’s part of what it means to be human and to love.
Grieving with the world
It can be difficult when events in the world, both near and far, bring up the familiar feelings and emotions of grief. Sometimes the events remind us of our own losses, and we grieve who or what we have lost all over again. We find it easy, perhaps too easy, to empathize with those who are suffering. We know too well what it’s like to have our worlds turned up upside-down and inside out.
Life Now
But, what happens when we can’t see the good things and joy of today because they are clouded over by the anger and pain of our grief? What do we do when we can’t let down our guard and defenses against another shoe dropping and causing more pain?
How do we quit allowing the grief to hollow out our lives?
How are you?
So, what are we supposed to do when we’re not okay? What about when it feels like the world has fallen apart around us, and we aren’t sure how to pick up the pieces? What about when the deathiversary of our person is in a few days and we’re grieving their absence a little extra today? Or when something reminds us of what has been lost and we could really use someone to listen to our story again?
What about those days when you’re just sad?
What are you supposed to say then?
Good words to sit with
It might seem odd then, that last week I decided to give meditation a try. Mainly I did it because I realized that my time of meditation is whatever I want it to be. Although basically it’s sit quietly, breathe in, hold, and breathe out. Yup, that very practice which threw me off yoga is what I’m attempting to do again. But this time it’s different.
Grief is something I never asked for
So many times I sat at our kitchen bar and wept as I read words I needed to hear. Words I wish had been spoken over a younger me when my mom died, I moved away from home for the first time, my husband and I had a miscarriage, and so many other losses. I wept knowing it was now my task to walk with others and help make their way a little less painful.