So much of life and death remains a mystery. We know our time here is limited. We know our loved ones will not live forever. Yet, we forget how to tenderly care for the heart. We forget how to fully live each moment.
When we lose someone we love, there are no simple solutions or ten effortless steps we can follow to “fix” our sorrow (or the sorrow of our friends and family). There are also no magic words or religious gurus—however well intended—that can make everything suddenly better.
While the intensity of our grief may lessen somewhat with time, our love stays strong, powerful, and constant. Like a full moon shining bright in the night sky, love is the beacon we follow.
This holiday season, try to create rituals and ceremonies that celebrate what you hold sacred in your life and in your heart. Be intentional about finding ways to honor your truth. Most importantly, be gentle and be kind – to others, and especially to yourself.
What I’ve learned from the many people I interviewed is that we don’t “get over” the death of someone we love. We also can’t fix or placate the intense sorrow we feel. Our experiences of loss — like our experiences of joy — become significant strands in the web of our life story.
When we find ourselves on the unfamiliar shores of loss ... We can spend however much time we need there, perhaps finding solace beneath the vast night sky, a bight full moon, or the soft glow of the setting sun. We can allow ourselves to feel whatever we feel — no right, no wrong, and no judgment.
As we sit with our sadness, we may decide not to waste time chasing the wrong things. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow likely no longer appeals to us because we understand the impermanent, fleeting beauty of the rainbow’s hues – knowing such splendor will not last. Knowing it is not meant to be here forever, but nevertheless wanting desperately to grasp each precious moment.
People who are doing their best to get up, go out, and face the world each morning—despite loss—are engaging in tremendous acts of courage. Courage is not the mighty sword that slays an enemy. Real courage is being honest and completely vulnerable. It’s the quiet voice that whispers, “I need help” or “I’m at a loss here.” It’s living an authentic life despite the clamor of those bent on destroying what is unique, creative, and beautiful. It’s embracing life in the moment. Happy moments. Sad moments. Angry moments. Fearful moments. It requires courage to say out loud, “Our marriage has had rocky times” or “I’m feeling lonely today.” It’s humbling to admit, “I don’t know why that happened.” Or acknowledging, “I don’t know what happens after I die,” or “I don’t know the answers for life’s deep mystical questions.”