Tag: lessons to learn

Peace, Love, and Grief – Is There a Spiritual Side to Grief?

I read something the other day that really got me to thinking… and maybe even sent my mind into a tailspin… The question it created was around my own faith and spiritual practices. Maybe you have noticed, maybe you haven’t, but I try not to go too deep into my religious practices here, in order to leave a wide berth for all beliefs in this space… (Hopefully), a space of understanding and compassion – not one where we debate religious theologies.

So, while I am talking about some spiritual thoughts today, my hope is that my words can be held under the light of whatever spiritual/faith practices you observe and still hold some kind of meaning for you.
As I was doing my morning meditation and quiet time this week, I read an article that brought up the question, “Am I just trying to get through my grief or am I learning to walk alongside my grief?” WHOA… That one made me stop to breathe and really think…

In the beginning, I just wanted the pain to stop… I wanted a list of things to do that would make me feel better… that would make land me “on the other side” of grief and back where I could live my life again. However, after a while, I learned that there is no such list… and there really isn’t an “other side” of grief where life goes “back to normal”.

This thing happened. My life is forever changed. I am forever changed.

I have learned on this journey that I can never go back… So, then the question became, “How do I move forward?” And… I think this is why the idea of learning to walk alongside my grief vs getting through it has intrigued me. “Getting through it” implies it can be fixed or ignored or that it heals and is forgotten like a childhood wound that scabs over, heals, and is forgotten over time. That, I know now, is an impossibility.

The loss of Bruce and the grief I have for that loss will always be a part of me… It will always influence my thoughts and actions. So… rather than stuff it down and pretend it is all gone, why not learn to accept that it is here to stay and find a way to walk alongside it?

Here is what I mean… Deep in my soul, there will always be parts of me that were born out of good, happy moments, and other parts of me that were born out of sad or traumatic moments. The child that used to feel such freedom and exhilaration seeing how high I could go in a swing on a summer’s day – stretching my toes to try and touch the sky – is just as much a part of me as the child who overheard a conversation where she learned that she would never be “enough” in someone else’s eyes – someone she loved with all her heart. Both aspects of that child are a part of who I am.

In that same sense, the part of me that shared a love and life with Bruce – a love that saw all of me and loved me anyway – is still deep in my soul. The loss of that relationship… that love, after all, is why I grieve. Which means that grief is and will always be a part of me, so I then need to find a way to live with it.

For example, there are times when that scared child still surfaces and I question whether I am “enough”. Over time, I have learned to recognize that for what it is, and in my soul I am able to comfort that scared child and assure her that I’ve got this… She is safe now.

The way I see it, now, my job is to learn how to do the same with the part of me that still grieves… I need to be able to comfort that part of me and say, “It’s okay to hurt… I can be strong for both of us today.”

So… how is any of that spiritual? Well… maybe that (by itself) isn’t… But we all know that grief isn’t that neat and tidy. Grief has also affected my spiritual life from the very beginning. I was incredibly angry at God. How in the world could God think that this was done “for my good”? Why bother showing me what love really looks like, if the plan was to snatch it all away in the middle of the night?

Those questions (to which I have never found an answer) combined with this idea of learning to walk alongside my grief brought me to another idea, and I believe several things that come into play here:

  1. My thoughts create my experience… In other words, what I choose to focus on is what I will see and experience. That focus is my choice.
  2. God is absolute good and everywhere present… In other words, there is no where I can be where God is not. So, if God is everywhere present (that means in me and in everything around me), then two other things are also true – I am never truly alone… and all is well.
  3. The purpose of life is to grow… Which means life is filled with lessons so that I can learn how to be a little bit better today than I was yesterday.

So, then, if all that is true (which for me, it is), then what does my soul need to learn so badly that I would be in this position of grief? What am I learning on this path that I may not have learned if Bruce were still here?

At first, I felt guilty for even thinking about that last question. Yet, if I am honest, I think I am starting to understand… I needed the lessons that Bruce brought into our relationship – lessons on unconditional love (for all), acceptance (of others and myself), respect (for others and myself), and the knowledge that all things happen at the time they are meant to happen. (That last one is still a struggle for me, but I am working on it.) Those lessons have been invaluable and (obviously) I am still working on them.

At the same time, I have to acknowledge the fact that if Bruce were still here, I may have used him as a crutch in those lessons, if I weren’t forced to work through a lot of it without him. I hate to admit that, but I know me… And I have to own that side of me.

I think that is where I am this week… Realizing that my journey isn’t about getting through my grief… Instead, I need to focus on what I have learned (and continue to learn) in this process and keep in mind that I am not alone on this journey (even on the days where that is a struggle), so that I can learn to walk alongside this grief – not just on a grief journey, but as a part of my spiritual journey, as well… which feels a whole lot healthier to my soul.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… And time moves on

It Still Hurts

Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh at the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
when the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
truly, physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul;
I know you are here.
But I need to see your eyes and your smile;
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence
and feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories;
The memories of our love…
And…
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the the pain of it.
~ Linda, Oct. 19, 2013

I remember when I wrote that poem. It had been 10 months since Bruce died. For the rest of the world, their lives were back in order. (At least that is the way I saw it.) But, not for me. My life was still upside down. I was still experiencing all the “dreaded firsts,” and I still had 2 more months to go before I would finish that “first year.”

I don’t know why, but there is a notion or a feeling that if you can get through (aka survive) that first year, it will all be okay… You will feel better… Life will start to feel normal again.

That, my friends, is a lie.

I remember starting that second year with so much hope that I would feel better, cry less and hurt less. But what I found was I still grieved; I still cried, and I still hurt. Life was still marching forward, but I still seemed to be out of step with the rest of the world.

On January 23, 2014, (after the one year anniversary of Bruce’s death) I wrote:

Good morning , Babe… Sad today… miss you so much. I know I’m doing better ’cause I have more and more good days, but today I am sad… went to bed sad, cried most of the night and woke up sad… Something about walking into the bedroom and knowing that I was  crawling in to this bed without you… again, was too much. I just miss you! I try not to let myself dwell on it too much because it gets me too down, but other times, I need to let it out… It’s been forever since I felt the touch of your love, Babe.

A few days later on February 4, I wrote:

Hi Babe! Loving you this morning… I cried myself to sleep (again) last night. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever not cry myself to sleep… or miss you so bad my heart feels like it will rip in half. Still kinda teary this morning. The thing is – now (because it has been more than a year) I feel like I have to hide it… It is so frustrating!

Even this week, I found myself struggling and wrote:

Hi, Babe! I am really missing you tonight! How can this be real? Here I am – 3 years later – and still half expecting you to walk though the door – OR – to wake up and find this has been one horrible nightmare. I sit here at my desk looking at pictures of us and I remember all the smiles and all the love. I’ll never understand why it had to end or how to make the hurting stop. I think… No, I know, what we had was so special and I’ll never stop loving you! It took us so long to find each other that we never took “us” for granted. I have no regrets for how we spent our time together. But I never thought our time together would be so short. It went by so fast.

Why am I sharing this? What is the point?

My point is this – the pain never really goes away. It is as if you broke a leg but never had it set correctly… it just healed as it was. You learn to live with it… You learn to laugh and walk and maybe even run, but it is never the same.

Over the last 3 years, I have learned to crawl, then walk… and even run. I have learned to laugh again. I have learned to dance again. I have learned to live life again. I have learned to trust that God or the universe or whatever you want to call it has not abandoned me, is not against me nor is he punishing me… In fact, he loves me and has my back.

I know I was blessed… I know I still am. Bruce’s purpose on this earth was completed before mine, and that is a sad reality that I have to accept. ( But I hate it!) However, the fact that we had a life together at all is a miracle.

I have come to understand that my life now is determined by my perspective… Some days are easier than others. Some days are harder than others… and that is actually normal. But ultimately…  it is my choice.

What do I know… even when days are hard?

I know there are still lessons for me to learn and a purpose for me to explore.

If you have experienced loss, you have probably learned lessons, too. This is our community, please share your story with us. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

Maybe you learned something different… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.