June 17, 2018

Read This on the Days Life Fires the Hard Shots.

In this moment
I am seen
I am heard
I am loved
In this moment
There is space
In this moment
I am held
In this moment
It is safe
For me to pause
And close my eyes
In this moment
There is room to breathe
To place my hand on my heart
And know that there is something strong and steady inside of me
In every single moment

In this moment
In every single moment
This heart
Is my
Soft place
To land


When profound loss leaves us feeling so deeply, well, lost, sometimes the only thing we can do is reach a hand into that darkness, hoping to make contact with something real.

Trust your instinct to reach out and know that when you bare your soul, you are not too much to bear. I know it feels raw, to share what hurts, but it’s also how we share what heals.

There is nothing anyone can say or do to make right what you have been through, but know this: there will be moments when it is okay for none of it to be okay. These are the moments when you take a time-out because you need to acknowledge the enormity of it all and nine-to-five’s don’t really allow for this all that often.

These are the moments when the wound—the black hole that your soul is straddling, half glued to the past and half dreaming of the future you will never have—starts to heal up. It is in these moments that you start to live all in one place once again.

Even after a lot of time has passed, you are allowed to have these moments.

When you give yourself these moments, you give yourself a soft place to land in a world that feels nothing but hard. When you give yourself these moments, it becomes safe for you to pause and close your eyes. When you arrive at this moment, there will be room. Take a big breath in, place your hand on your heart, and feel that there is something strong and steady inside of you still, getting you through this—one beat at a time.

There is no guidebook through grief, but if there was one, it would be in there, in your heart. Because what to do and how to deal—that is a conversation that can only be had between you and her. And the truth is, the heart always knows what it needs; the big lesson for us in navigating loss is trusting in and surrendering to what that is.

What I mean by this is: some days, grief might look like your normal hustle and grind. Other days, it might be spending the entire day doing the opposite of that. There is a whole new dictionary of emotions, now swirling around inside of you, where there used to be joy and certainty and trust in life. They are going to keep swirling until they are ready to settle.

They will be stirred up, like dust in the softest breeze, by the mere mention of a name, note, or place that reminds you of your life before. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are past the place where it is okay to be stirred up and confused, ‘cuz ain’t nobody able to read this map, even with a bird’s-eye view.

And one more thing—joy and certainty and trust in life are still in there, I promise.

So, how is one to navigate this prickly, raw, scary, and unpredictable time? It starts with giving yourself a moment.

And for God’s sake, for just once, maybe let some of your emotions call the shots, because let’s be honest—they’re calling the shots whether you resist them or not and ignoring them only makes them yell louder.

But mostly, listen to your heart, and do your best to go in that direction a little bit every day. You are doing this already with every breath—I know you are. And when you feel moments of joy start to come back in, take them, and be gentle with yourself all ways—self-care, self-care, self-care.

Yes, this loss is now woven into the fabric of who you are. So too is the love you felt for each of those souls who left.

Except, love never leaves us and neither do the souls we walk this path with.

Talk to them, write to them, pray to them, invite them into your joys and your questions and your process. Think of them when you feel joy, feel their spirit in each experience you have that lights you up. Have a new conversation with them, only instead of the physical you and them that it used to be, now you communicate through sunrises and blooming flowers and peaceful moments on mountaintops, or subway rides if cities are your thing.

All the things you never got to speak or text in the past, speak them now and know that they will be carried to your loved ones. And know that every time you do, you create a little bit more space in the spaces filled with pain, and this space allows a little more light in and heals a little more each day.

One day at a time, one breath at a time, one heartbeat at a time.


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Emma Tait  |  Contribution: 3,370

author: Emma Tait

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