In life there is often so much to celebrate, so much to look forward to, so much to be grateful for. And when everything is peachy, on the rise and new personal and professional milestones are being made, a cloud so thick and dark in the shape of grief, strips all colour and painfully shifts our perspective.
Grief is one of the most inexplicable experiences. Vastly felt and managed in an unfathomable number of ways. Impossible to put into feelings, into words. Perhaps is the reason why this poem, echoed in aching communion, as we celebrated a lost life, spoke volumes.
It seems to me, that if we love, we grieve. That's the deal. That's the pact. Grief and love are forever intertwined. Grief is the terrible reminder of the depths of our love and, like love, grief is non-negotiable. There is a vastness to grief that overwhelms our minuscules selves. We are tiny, trembling clusters of atoms subsumed within grief's awesome presence. It occupies the core of our being and extends through our fingers to the limits of the universe. Within that whirling gyre all manner of madnesses exist; ghosts and spirits and dream visitations, and everything else that we, in our anguish, will into existence. These are precious gifts that are as valid and as real as we need them to be. They are the spirit guides that lead us out of the darkness.
To grief, is to heal. Dread grief trails bright phantoms in its wake. Theses spirits are ideas, essentially. They are our stunned imaginations reawakening after the calamity. Like ideas, theses spirits speak of possibility. Follow your ideas, because on the other side of the idea is change and growth and redemption. Create your spirits.
x N
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