“Listening is a form of accepting.”
-Stella Terrill Mann
Our grief often has things it wants to tell us. We may avoid engaging with it for a long time because we’re afraid of what it has to say. But the longer we postpone having a dialogue with our grief, the more numb and split off from our feelings we become. As the expression goes: feelings buried alive never die. What does your grief want to say? When I asked myself this question, the following is what emerged. What I found is that making space for grief also allows us to make space for other emotions.
Grief is under your armpits, the weight of your arms, your heavy heart. It is the grandmother you miss and the grandfather you mourn. It is in the things you do not want to say, the biting of your tongue and your slumped shoulders. The tight neck and clenched jaw; the forgetting of possibility. It misses the body and clings tightly to this life. A long night exiting the desert, a black sky. Grief is to feel alone, apart. Joy is in the long spine, the belly breath, sacred touch. It is not being afraid, trusting, the smile that begins inside. It is appropriate distance and kindness and the wandering moon.