Unraveling

Grief is not just an emotion – it’s an unraveling, a space where something once lived but is now gone. It carves through you, leaving a hollow ache where love once resided.” Jim Carrey

It sneaks up on you sometimes. When least expected and sparked by the most unlikely circumstances. A longing to tell that one person what has happened, knowing that he or she would really understand, sympathize, know exactly what to say. The realization that that’s impossible can be piercing, like an unexpected sting from a bee or stepping on something sharp. It’s hard not to clench and resist the tidal wave of feelings that can follow. Everything inside tells us to run. Run to something. To anything. Distract. Numb. Avoid the threat.

What we resist persists. This feels true. Maybe we avoid the overwhelming rush of emotions a few times, even a hundred times. But that hollow ache doesn’t just disappear. It weighs on us, heavy. It clouds the heart – and our hearts want to shine like the sun.

What if instead of running and numbing when things get emotionally hard, we relax into the big feelings. I think it would need to start with honoring all the tiny griefs we suffer along the way. All the endings, the disappointments, the “deaths” of dreams, or certain circumstances, or ideas of how things could or should be. Many of us have been encouraged to “suck it up”. We suffer a big loss and are expected back to work ASAP and are complimented if we manage a smile. “You’re doing so well,” we might be told, even as that pit inside grows and festers.

Love doesn’t stop. It doesn’t have to stop. I’d venture to say that it can’t be stopped. The essence of each of us is love. So maybe we let ourselves keep on loving the precious thing we’ve lost – lost to death, or divorce, or any of the million things that can happen that create our endings to what has been. Maybe letting our hearts flow with love can help us not to clench and resist. Yes, tears will likely flow. Yay for tears! They are a sweet and essential part of fully tasting and experiencing all that this life has to offer.

Our griefs are all connected. One moment I’m thinking that I really wish I could call my friend -- the one who died a few years ago, the one who understood -- and tell her something, the next I see something that reminds me of my father who died around the same time, and the next I’m missing people in my life who are very much alive but just not here, not close enough. The river of losses flows and my heart aches. I do my best to just feel, and love. Feel and love. Breathing helps. Relaxing my physical body helps. Nature and beauty always help.

Feeling and loving in the face of pain can be discombobulating. It can feel like unraveling. It’s possibly messy. But oh so worth it! Because love begets love. We can let ourselves be open for all of it, growing, or we can tighten and grip and shrink. We get to choose.

P.S. Choose to love!