I reached out to my uncle on what would have been my grandmother’s birthday, the first the family faced without her since she passed away six months ago after a brief battle in the hospital. Then, in quick succession, the loss of two cousins shortly after. Prior to my grandmother, a series of losses of friends and family.
My uncle’s voice, heavy with years of wisdom, resonated through the phone, “The longer you live, the more you’ll see people you love pass away. That’s just life. But when the young ones go, it’s just not right.” His words, steeped in a truth I wished didn’t exist, settled with me. Shortly after, the call ended, and I found myself mechanically drifting back to the demands of my work.
Death, and its unyielding finality, have always been a complex puzzle for me. I often retreat into my mind, barricading my emotions behind a wall of intellectualization. I convince myself there’s no room for grief in the bustling rhythm of life, that my responsibilities can’t be put on hold, and that productivity is my only acceptable response. I might dive into mastering a new skill or channel my emotions into tangible achievements — things our society might applaud as resilience or strength. Yet, beneath that applauded exterior, my grief remains, unexpressed, and untouched.
In these tumultuous months, a profound truth has dawned on me, with the assistance of compassionate and loving people around me that I can only believe were divinely placed in my life, and the insight of a skilled therapist: the strategies that once served as my armor no longer fit my current life. I’ve realized that I can’t strategize my way through the tendrils of complex emotions; I have to bravely venture through the vines of these emotions, feeling every prick and sting of the thorns. The path forward isn’t a puzzle to be solved but a journey to be experienced in its rawest form. The only way through is immeasurably, undeniably through.
I have the full understanding that loss will visit me again. I’m learning to navigate the rugged terrain of my emotions with a newfound grace. I’m granting myself the space to grieve authentically, to let the tears flow as they may, to embrace the ache of disappointment, and to experience the full spectrum of feelings I’d previously barricaded behind a wall of intellectualization.
It’s a delicate dance, allowing myself to feel in a world that often demands relentless strength. But in this dance, I’m discovering the rhythm of resilience, the melody of my own healing. I’m learning, ever so gently, to feel my way through the darkness, to be gentle with myself, and to ride the waves of emotions instead of barricading them in unprocessed. I’m learning to give air to my emotions and allow them to breathe.
Throughout the years, I’ve discovered that healing doesn’t happen in solitude; it flourishes within the embrace of a supportive community. My most transformative moments of healing have not occurred in silent isolation but have bloomed in the sacred spaces where hearts connect and are free to bare their scars. Surrounded by those whose trust and love I hold dear, have been my refuge and my strength.
For too long, isolation was my fortress where I sought refuge from the world’s harshness. It was a survival tactic I learned from years past, a cloak of self-preservation. Yet, as I step into this new chapter, I realize these defenses have grown old and ineffective. My journey now demands a courage I’ve not known before — the courage to delve into the caverns of discomfort and emerge, not unscathed, but stronger.
Life, in all its harsh beauty, invites us to delve into its intricate dance. It calls to us to lean into the whirlwind, to embrace the waves of emotions that are both our greatest challenge and our most profound teacher. Yes, pain is a harsh experience to embrace, but it doesn’t last forever. All pain does it hurt.
So, lean into it, dear heart. Let the pain carve out the channels of strength you never knew you held. Remember, it hurts, but not forever. Seek your tribe, those souls capable of holding a sacred space where your spirit can mend, where your wounds are not just seen but honored. You, beloved, are a treasure beyond measure, deserving of every ounce of effort, every moment of struggle, on this path to healing. Remember, within the heart of community, you will find the very essence of healing.
