Like the Cold And Sparse Beauty Of Winter, there is beauty in grief and loss.
Through COVID, many have grieved the loss of physical closeness with friends. The simple luxury of sitting in a coffee shop or browsing through the supermarket disappeared. Collectively, we suddenly came face to face with loss and non-negotiable change.
Now, in the face of difficult political winds, anticipation of a painful future and collective horror rise, making us yearn for things we have lost.
In 2020, I was met with horrific personal grief. My 36-year-old son died suddenly. My world shattered.
There is beauty in grief and loss, but it can be hard to see.
Truthfully, I have come to realize that loss and grief are a price we pay for the immense beauty of life and love. It is only because of the beauty of what we have lost they we are left with pain and emptiness. As summer blooms fade, we glimpse this loss.
However, when we experience loss, the world itself can feel dangerous. Ugliness, fear, anger, and guilt can consume us. These feelings can dangerously restrict our own lives.
For myself, I froze. I was detached and unmoored. Yet, even in my shock, I felt gratitude that Michael, if he had to die, died in the summer. The beauty of the earth somehow sustained me while on the inside, I felt as frozen as solid ice.
There is a strange beauty in the frozen quality of grief.
Like a cold, cold winter, when loss is so deep it can freeze us.
Actually, the freeze I experienced reminds me of the moment the first winter ice arrives. Those who live with that reality know you need to take a moment to recalibrate walking and driving. Business as usual stops with ice! That is exactly my experience of the shock of grief.
The freeze was a gift because it gave me the pause I needed to process what had happened. Just like an ice storm, it has a translucent quality. There is something so crystalline and clarifying that nothing exists but direct experience of life. Just as ice cracks, we are cracked open. There is a beauty to this. There is also immense vulnerability.
There is Beauty in our vulnerability
Anyone who has lived in cold climates knows that ice keeps the reality of our vulnerability very much alive. It makes us come alive in our attention and feeling, so we don’t hurt ourselves navigating it.
Grief also makes us aware of our vulnerability. As with ice, we have to approach our grief consciously, with all of our attention. Otherwise, it can engulf us and take us away from the warmth and beauty of our lives.
Meeting this shocked and frozen quality can make us strangely fully alive. That crystalline quality is a doorway. Entering into that cold freeze consciously leads to other feelings. And usually, after a loss, we don’t like what we feel. (The video below offers some ideas of how to productively meet these horrible feelings.)
So, our body is the place where we feel the freeze of shock and the melting into fierce and unexpected emotions. Meeting the ice frees the dammed-up water of emotion. This meeting of our pain is also the place where we can feel redemption and resilience. By that, I mean we can reclaim the ground of being anchored in this moment. We have this experienced, living body. That is what allows us to experience everything. The great, the terrible and the immense love we have for what has been lost.
Living in our body is the source of our resilience.
So, let yourself have this winter of your soul. And, just like winter, nurture yourself. Can you use blankets and pillows, smells of fresh pine, and music to tell your body there is pleasure here? Is it possible to walk and offer your body grounding? What about offering your body a warm bath? The comfort we give our bodies melts the hardness and shock we develop in these conditions. Meet with friends. Let the tears, rage, and even guilt arise. Talk, sing, moan, cry. Recognize the beauty that shines behind your pain.
About Grieving
Grief takes the wind out of our sails like nothing else. When my son passed away suddenly in July 2020, I knew I was at a fork in the road. I could either collapse into bitterness and unending suffering and lose myself completely OR I could find richness in the shadows.
Now I am helping others come to an experience of grief and loss that keeps the heart open and keeps life in the body. Find out more about one on one sessions (in person in Easthampton, MA) or world-wide over zoom. Or join a 7 week group. You can also find some help through my Healing from Grief and Loss YouTube playlist or my Grief and Loss resource page
If you or someone you love needs help with this, please reach out!
