Out of the Darkness

It seems odd to write about grief in December when joy and cheer and gaiety are grand expectations ~

even though we all know of snaking currents and wild rogue storms

   when grief shares space with anger 

     when guilt of feeling angry in the face 

of a loved one lost and the beauty of the world around us 

settles into the limbo of numbness. 

Oh the numbness and lethargy that is deep, deep grief - 

darkened and black feelings piling more guilt 

leaving an acrid sour taste flavouring the very air that we breathe. 

So we go outside our homes, 

   outside ourselves,  

       outside our pain  

to spend, to drink, to party, to fight and maybe even get lost in holy ritual without spirit just to feel. 

Something. 

Anything. 

Desperate for even a taste of the joy others seem to be feeling 

until at the end of each of the twelve days of Christmas we fall 

exhausted into our beds and sleep the restless sleep of a grief stricken soul.

When morning comes we can breathe again for another day. 

Breathe the air of the world outside our heads 

pulling fresh breaths to surround our heart  to keep them  from breaking completely, 

breathe in the love we feel from those we share life with, 

feeling - feeling - kisses and hugs and hands and flesh against flesh 

so we know we are alive 

and that grieving is not about the person that is no longer in our midst 

but about the loss that cuts our souls to the very quick of living. 

But our souls are protected by fragile walls of 

  our spirits, 

    our hopes, 

      our dreams and 

        our very resilience and will to live. 

If we turn away from all connection with life and living 

standing frozen in a vast sea of stagnant water 

surrounded by grasses, weeds and a tangle of roots and debris 

at our feet, around our legs that threaten

we flail and struggle without gaining purchase on solid ground that will come when we relax into the weeds, 

let go of the struggle and 

with our ragged breaths and with our aching hands 

we slowly begin 

  To feel. 

     To recreate our lives

Swaying gently with the unwelcome current

embracing sadness and grief

letting anger slink away

until the water clears

cleansed with the tears of our grief.

And so I write about grief at Christmas 

for it is a time of grief and loss, joy and growth.

“Only people who are capable of loving strongly 

can also suffer great sorrow, but this same necessity of 

loving serves to counteract their grief and heals them.”

~  Leo Tolstoy