Like most of my talks and meditations,
This one arose as part of my own healing journey.
As I work through these layers,
I often think if this has helped me to understand and be with my human experience with a little more love and ease,
Then it may help someone else.
So here are some of my personal musings on grief as the foundation for emotional upheaval as well as a doorway to joy.
While many emotions may not manifest outwardly as sadness or sorrow.
Upon deeper introspection and investigation,
I have found that grief is at the core of the most challenging emotions.
We are either actively grieving anticipating or fearing grief,
Or trying to prevent or avoid it.
Let me explain a little further.
The crux of all fear is loss.
We fear loss of control,
Loss of independence,
Of dignity,
Love,
Power,
Safety,
Freedom,
Joy,
And so on.
And loss is the foundation of grief.
Think about the thread of loss in these.
Controlling or clinging is a fear of losing what we have.
Perfectionism or unworthiness stem from a fear of not belonging,
Of losing connection.
Guilt and shame are also a fear of losing connection,
Fear of judgment,
Of being singled out or shunned.
Jealousy and resentment is about not having what someone else has.
The loss of something we desired.
Grief for what we don't have.
Greed is trying to amass enough of whatever we think will spare us from feeling the pain of doing without.
Greed is an attempt to avoid loss.
Disappointment is loss of expectations,
Hopes,
And dreams.
And I think if we continue to delve into each of our emotions,
We find that there is a fear of losing something at the basis of all of them.
Ultimately,
All of this comes from grieving separation from Source.
And Source can be whatever feels right to you.
God,
Allah,
The Universe,
It all applies.
When we feel at one with Source,
We are whole.
We have no loss,
No feelings of needing to control or protect,
No fear or clinging because everything we need is already here.
The feeling of separation from source is grief.
And the beautiful juxtaposition of it is that ultimately,
If we open to all of it.
If,
Instead of trying to avoid,
Outrun,
Or push away,
We instead tenderly hold and allow the gamut of emotions to simply run through us,
They actually bring us right back to source.
In her book Bittersweet,
Susan Cain teaches that the longing is the connection.
The longing that we feel to return to source,
To be with those we hold dear,
To keep ourselves safe and to feel joy and peace only exists because we have felt that connection.
We know it is possible.
If it didn't exist.
If we hadn't ever felt it.
We wouldn't miss it.
Just the fact that we are longing,
That we are grieving.
Is evidence that we are connected.
If this is all true,
Then the core of healing lies in embracing our grief.
And to go a layer further to recognize that we have never been separate from Source.
I'm cautious not to oversimplify here.
I don't believe we simply remember we are one with Source and then we are suddenly and permanently healed.
This isn't a one and done cure for all of our struggles.
It's a journey of unending returning.
The crux of this human experience is to remember over and over.
And to act as reminders to one another over and over of our truth.
Of our oneness.
Of our wholeness.
And if that feels overwhelming,
The idea that we are never completely healed or done,
And I'd like to offer you two thoughts.
One,
Never being done means infinite opportunities.
The doors to our wholeness never close on us.
Opening to source is always possible,
No matter how far we feel we've strayed.
And two.
We don't need to jump directly into our greatest griefs and fears first thing or all at once.
We can practice emotional titration.
Dipping our toes into the waters of grief slowly and then backing out.
Taking breaks as we need.
Coming back when we're ready to feel some more.
Just like it isn't healthy to avoid the challenging emotions,
We also can't live our lives steeped in pain.
We need reprieve.
Moments to catch our breath and renew our stamina.
There's no need to force or to prove anything,
No need to rush.
The only hurry is our own impatience.
Our grief isn't going anywhere.
And neither is source.
When we find ourselves forcing or rushing as we so often do,
We simply remind ourselves again of the endless and infinite opportunities.
In my experience,
The depth of joy I can access seems to grow alongside my willingness to gently feel my grief.
It's like a pendulum,
If you will,
With the grief on one end and the joy on the other.
The weight at the end of the string will only travel as far to the left as it is pulled back to the right.
We can stay close to that middle point of equilibrium,
And that will keep the pain of grief at bay.
It will also keep the full experience of joy just out of reach.
Most of us know,
Whether consciously or subconsciously,
That to allow ourselves to fully open to love and joy makes us vulnerable.
If we open to joy,
We may lose that joy at some point.
And then we will be left to swim in the murky waters of grief.
So we inadvertently deny joy.
Because we have felt the sting of grief and we don't want to feel it again.
So the question then is,
Where is the fear of or denial of grief overtly or covertly interfering with my joy?
For me,
As I've explored this,
There have been obvious answers.
And there have also been some eye-opening self-discoveries about things I didn't realize I was grieving.
Lost expectations,
Lost sense of safety,
Lost sense of belonging.
When someone shares with us that they are grieving,
We tend to offer love more freely than with some other emotions.
And I have found that to be true with myself as well.
As I uncover my emotions and personal losses through the lens of grief,
I feel a softness that allows me to be more tender,
More open to what is happening within me.
So with all of that being said.
You can feel free to stop here and simply digest all of that information.
Or if you're feeling up to it.
You could take a brief moment with me to lightly dip your toes into your well of grief and see what comes up for you.
Taking a few slow breaths to center yourself.
Letting any thoughts that arise to just float by.
You don't have to push them away,
Just notice and release,
Knowing that you can come back to them in a little bit.
Feeling the weight of your body held safely by gravity.
Cradled in the loving embrace of Mother Earth.
And reminding yourself that you are safe.
And that you can stop this practice at any time and return to normal daily life.
And maybe offering yourself a supportive touch.
Maybe placing a hand on your heart.
And asking.
What grief within me needs to be seen right now?
What grief needs to be named or held in loving care.
And allowing whatever arises to just be there.
No need to question or rationalize or figure it out.
Just offering an open and loving acceptance.
You may even say something kind and compassionate like,
This belongs.
Or I see you.
And then maybe also asking what this grief needs right now.
And again,
Allowing whatever answers arise to be there without judgment or analysis.
As it feels right throughout today and in the days to come.
I encourage you to just dip your toes back into the water.
Let go of your expectations for transformation or healing.
Just sit with what's there.
Check in on your grief.
See how it's doing and what it needs.
Offer your grief validation.
Compassion.
Love.
You don't have to dig any further or figure anything out.
This is the simple practice.
For now,
We're just recognizing.
Just Loving.
I leave you with this poem,
The Well of Grief,
By David White.
Those who will not slip beneath the still surface on the well of grief,
Turning down through its black water to the place we cannot breathe.
We'll never know the source from which we drink.
The secret water,
Cold and clear,
Nor find in the darkness glimmering the small round coins thrown by those who wished for something else.
May you allow yourself to slip beneath your own surface.
May you hold your grief tenderly.
And turn it over with compassion and curiosity.
Until you see the light within it.
