It Was Grief


It occurred to me a few weeks back, finally, that my frequent lethargy, disconnectedness (dare I say apathy) and often times a sense of loneliness in a sea of community and friends wasn't 'melancholy' but rather grief.

Scrub my body, heart, and mind of their accumulated stresses and unaddressed anguish. Let me stop the abuses and misfortunes from telling my future. Help me author my personal story of strength and perseverance while ripening me for rebirth.
— Pixie Lighthorse

At first, it was like, what am I mourning? No one died. I have a lover who adores me, and a career on my own terms. Plus exquisite friends. But then I turned inward- towards the unspeakable weight on my heart- which wasn't a sadness or depression, but mourning. I was devastated for the pieces and parts of the self-lost throughout life. Some of it dramatic, sure, but most of it, almost all- just the wounds of living life as an immanent being.

How often do we experience breakups, lovers walk away, friendships fail, kids move on, jobs end. Life happens and instead of taking time for bereavement, we just soldier on. This is the every day you and me experiences, I'm talking about, I am not even touching on the cataclysmic events of the world we experience through the lens society. That society that we hold close yet gives us the deepest wounds too. 

It's that same society which doesn't allow us space to grieve. Where do we begin to mend the wound, and let the broken pieces heal? To grieve? To medicine?

Instead, it's encouraged, this roughening and toughening of the heart-shaped space. We see this, especially in men. You are more than if you can scar up and be stronger.  But I wonder, what does that do? What good are you if all you are left with is calloused hearts, but to shield a wounded soul?  

The more I connect with others, the deeper I see wounded energies and karmic patterns. They look like a flexible piece of steel cutting through the solar plexus, dividing the subtle body right at the heart. The more resistance we create, the more brittle we become and the deeper the wound, the wider the grief.  And why? When did we collectively decide grieving was a no, but living in a wound was a yes?

Wounds only cause more suffering. Wounded animals only hurt more. We hurt others, we hurt Earth, and ultimately we hurt ourselves. What might it be like if we gave permission to heal the wounds? To step into that space and allow space for grief. 

Of late I've been leaning into the potential in that space. I'm empowered by the grief space, even when it means I have to peel back layers of old injury and shave away callouses. 

Something is coming through- a medicine to I will share. This lesson continues to come from the blackbirds of Raven and Crow, and work with the Mother Wounds. Earth always renews. Love is still the Law.

If you are looking for more about understanding grief from a holistic practice, Prayers for Honoring Grief by my friend, Pixie Lighthorse is a great start.