I wrote last week that this is a difficult time of year for me, and today’s the hardest day, by far. Yet I don’t want to wallow in it. I don’t want to succumb to the sorrow. But the grief is strong, its undertow fierce. And my heart is like an anchor, sinking down and pulling me under.
Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains. ~Kahlil Gibran
I don’t really know what to do. It’s incredibly difficult to focus on anything, even though I’m also not focusing on my grief. It’s like I’m caught in that “staring off into space” mode, not thinking any thoughts but not present either.
Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
~W.S. Merwin, Separation
There’s something about grief that is so isolating. I know it’s the thoughts that do this – make me feel incredibly alone. So, I let the thoughts go and don’t attach to them. I just am. I am peace, and I am pain.
We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world. ~ Buddha
And I breathe. I know she’s with me. And so I keep breathing.
Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.
leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs–
leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.