I had ignored her call last summer and my body suffered for it. A stiff neck, pounding head and sore throat hounded me for months. I can always sense when she’s about to call me again. What does she want from me now? It’s always something I value. Will this be the time she devours me completely? Then she whispered into my heart: You can turn the page onto the best chapter of your life only after you grieve. Damn it! Do I have any more tears to give her?
For months I had anguished over closing my architecture firm, ending a relationship, leaving dear friends behind, losing homes I’d designed and built and most of my material assets. Would I ever get out of the financial hole? The ocean between me and my beloved sons was unbearable. And yet, I had chosen two decades earlier to embark on a path to discover my authentic self. I had no idea then what this path would cost me. After meeting every challenge she presented me, could she still want more?
If she wants more from me then I demand to know: Why am I here? What is mine to do? Where do I belong? Enraged, I demanded my old life back.
I fought with her! Then I remembered that going into her darkness, as scary as it has been, I emerge with more clarity. This was the incentive I needed to defeat my terror and answer her call to enter her emptiness yet again. I chose to surrender my body and my mind to the Void of grief. With the holidays approaching, I went to my old recipe for grieving.
One comfy chair
One pair of baggy sweat pants
Seven parts sap from holiday season Hallmark movies
Four parts CBS’s Steve Hartman “On the Road” segments
Hourly mugs of brewed thyme tea laced with a dollop of honey
The perfect medicine! Decades of encrusted grief dislodged from my lungs. It was not pretty! In fact it was downright unmanly. My defenses fell like heroes on the battlefield. Relentlessly, I wept. Tissues flew in every direction and fell to the floor, soaked with tears and yellow-green snot. Grief’s departure was palpable.
In the wake of this release, all illusions of my aloneness evaporated. Lighter now, rising on love, once again, she embraced me. Then she handed me the key to unlock the door to the expansiveness I crave. Will I ever learn without the rituals of pain and fear? Will I ever look forward to her calls? When I return from her darkness, I always forget the preceding terror. Afterwards, I can’t wait to share all that she has taught me. I honor and respect the creative power of my emotions. They are great gifts. Oh, this wondrous Void! She’s teaching me to empower my intentions with love. What a process! Why was I so afraid of her anyway? Good Grief!
2 thoughts on “Grief”
Recovery from grief is a messy process. Your courage is enviable.
Wow Albie! As always with your beautiful words, I had to read your blog several times to absorb your poetry. Most people don’t think about their dark side. You do…… and then you manage to elegantly script it. That alone, my dear friend, should raise you to new heights!