in grief, you love the world
It’s when steeped in grief your potential for loving the world is activated, at its peak.
All your defenses are down. There’s not enough energy to sustain those barriers you’ve spent a lifetime erecting—it’s been siphoned to the tears that flow, the arms that yearn, the heart that hurts.
You’re raw, at the height of your vulnerability. You are a walking, talking exposed nerve. Everything jolts you, snaps you awake. Sometimes the pain is searing and you feel you could combust from this uncontainable heat, and you’ll stare down at your body—amazed—that the hieroglyphs now branding you head to toe are only visible inside.
And sometimes you’re startled by the intensity of the things you somehow missed before.
Were raindrops always so plump, so heavy on your cheeks? Were you always so aware of their lifespans gliding down your neck?
Were pebbles and rocks always so striking, with their contours and freckles and shades of burnt umber, bronze, butterscotch and bone? Did you ever notice how grainy they felt against your fingertips, the ridges solid with satisfaction?
Were trees always so friendly, waving at you furiously, begging for your attention like children who just learned a new trick?
Were cups of tea always so sweet, so fragrant? Did you always see the thin white tendrils lazily curling up to caress your face, delicate moist kisses in the morning?
Were birds always so comforting, their chipper chirps heralding another chance to see how light graces the sky, how it falls on everything from feathers to feet, how no shadow is beyond its reach?
Was your mother’s skin always so warm, so fragile? Did it ever make you suddenly reach out to hold her hand, because you understood what’s pulsing beneath the skin, how much it strains to contain the riotous reactions of living? Were you always so aware how quickly a hand can disappear?
Were clocks always so loud?
This is what it is to be tender. Tenderized. Wholly transparent to the world. To life.
Grief brought you to this place, this place you never wanted to go, this place that painted the backdrop of all your fears.
And it shows you the love behind everything, that always was behind everything. Even the moment you were split in two.
Say yes, Grief whispers. Say yes to it all. And I will stay with you, so you remember.
Your answer is the face of your Beloved; the memories you share; the unrepeatable, irreplaceable, cosmic event of your life together.
Yes.
Yes, I will keep you. Yes, I will walk with you. If this is the bargain I struck when they entered my heart, again and again, my answer is yes.
Always.
Let us hold space for your grief when you’re ready.
