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Rated: E · Essay · Philosophy · #2222025
Grief is intimate. We can try to share it, but it's personal, and we experience it alone.
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Does my grief make you uncomfortable?

Can you feel my pain?
It is unbearable
Can you see my heart?
It is in pieces

Can you hear my mind?
He is screaming in agony
Can you sense my soul?
She is crying, and she never cries

May you someday experience what I feel today

Incomparable loss
And yet, unequaled love

There can be no pain, but that requires there be no love

~ ki ~




MY GRIEF



Does my grief cause you some level of discomfort? It does for me. Is it the fact that I have loved, and loved deeply? Or is it that I have lost deeply, and struggle to understand and accept that loss? Do you have confusion, as I do, whether to revel and exclaim in the joy I have experienced or to self-destruct with the abject pain and realization that there can never be that opportunity again? Do you identify with my dilemma? Do you recognize something in my struggle that you yourself have had to endure? Can you possibly know that I feel all of these things, with a thousand memories, on a thousand levels, with every breath I take, and I cannot decide if my next breath will be the last I can endure? Know that I am trying to make sense out of the chaos. Trying to understand. My mind is turbulent. My heart is broken, seemingly beyond repair. And yet my soul is waiting, patiently, with calm and understanding, for my philosophy to work its magic, to stabilize my mind to begin the healing the heart requires to move forward, step by step, to deal with my own personal realities. There are other loves in my life, and they are hurting as well, some possibly going through more than even I can imagine, no matter how difficult that is to conceive at this time. From the ashes of this senseless experience, I must attempt to rise, like the mythical phoenix, to be something more than I was. Was it only yesterday that this has all occurred? It already seems like an eternity.

Grief is eternal. The sad reality is that you will never really ever stop the process of grieving. It is not possible to ' get over ' it. It is only possible to accept the new reality that they are gone. Or you die. You must learn to live with the new, unwanted knowledge. Or you will die. It is necessary for you to heal, and to rebuild self to the point that you can again function. Or you will never live again.

At some point, you will approach being whole once more, but you will never be the same again. Ever. How could you be? Nor should you be. Nor would you wish to be. You have to embrace the fact that you have been given a great opportunity in your life, within your reality. You have experienced the wonder and intimacy of loving another, and being loved in return. And it is a good thing, a wonderful thing, a miraculous thing. Something will forever be missing from your future. Death must have certainly changed you. You are different today than what you once were, just hours or days ago. It seems impossible for a time, but you will take another step along your path. Your philosophy, if strong enough, will ensure that you will persevere. For this to happen, it may only be days, or months. For others, it could be years or a lifetime. The damage can be deep indeed, and I grieve as well, for those that remain lost in their pain and loss. We can only offer support. They must all eventually find their own way, or suffer the consequences. You move on, but you never forget, unless that is the only way you find to cope, or the love lost was never really what you believed it to be. Love, like death, and grief, is timeless. Infinite.

At times of crisis, we retreat into our private little worlds. They are a refuge. For me, it is my Asylum. It is the place I call ‘ Alone ‘. We go there to remove distractions. We go there to hide. We go there to think, to Contemplate. Things. The world around us. Simple things like what to wear, and what we are going to eat. And things of greater consequence, such as what we intend to do with our lives, and the direction that will take. We think of what is good with the world, and what is not. And we search out our place of Alone out of fear, and often when we feel pain. We go there to take the time to make an attempt to determine, and resolve, why we hurt so badly. It is here that we question our very existence, and sometimes even if we wish to continue the struggle of existence itself. The battle for ' self ' takes place here. The possibility of love takes form here. The decision to love is made here. The desire to live resides here, and the willingness to die sometimes exists here as well. All that we need is held here. We are here. Self exists here. Our mind is here, along with our heart. Our philosophy shines it light upon the darkness, and our soul dances among our thoughts.

The mind is strong. It is fierce. It is the source of all of our knowledge and the sum of our experience. It is objective and it is analytical. It is reason. It does not feel, but can only think. It is formidable. It can be a dangerous thing. The heart, by contrast, is nothing like the mind. It does not care for facts, or knowledge. It does not analyze. It can but only feel. And deeply does it feel. Usually subservient to reason, as well it should be, at times it abandons all control and will have its way. They say that the heart wants what the heart wants. And it does. Many times with disastrous results. The heart allows us to love, and with the control of the mind, it can be a gift with no equal. And yet it allows us to hate, and the control reason gives us keeps such a destructive force in check. Emotion with no bounds can also be a dangerous thing.

Philosophy is the great binding force. It gives structure to our actions. It does not give a definitive answer as to what are the rights and wrongs of life. Rather, it defines, for us alone, the right and wrong that we will use for our adventure through life, along the path we have chosen. It can be the difference between a life of peace, and one of turmoil, indecision, and sorrow. It too can be a double-edged sword, and a terrible danger as well.

And what of the soul? Is it something that is indestructible, or something that is just as vulnerable as everything else? The ultimate expectation of the soul is to find peace along our journey. Balance. Contentment. Happiness. She is there to bring the best of mind and heart together, to create direction and purpose. Motivation and resolve. But she is not the ultimate arbiter. She can be ignored. We do supposedly have free will, but that does not guarantee positive results. She is but a guide and one that we should all heed. Alas, from my perspective, it is a call that many choose to dismiss, much to their detriment, as well as ours. Is our soul a reality, or just a wish, a pleasant fairy tale with which to amuse ourselves? I choose to live with the fairy tale, which brings a richness and sense of calm to each step I take along the path, and how could that ever be a bad thing?

So leave me to my grief. At the moment it is all that I have left. My mind has thought much about death. It may be an unknown but I am not unprepared. For myself, I am resigned to it, and understand the inevitability, and the futility of hiding from the reality of it. But my heart is devastated. Perhaps my contemplation of the death of special love needs more time and effort to resolve. It is easier to embrace death and what lies beyond when thinking of your own demise than to remain, alive, to pick up the pieces of a life torn apart by the passing of an integral part of your very essence. But the heart will mend. My Philosophy will see to that. It has developed over time into a formidable and resilient ally. The heart will direct its attention to the loves that remain, and the loves that may yet come to be. But for now, it languishes in a sea of sorrow. In this instance, the mind and the heart have no disagreement. The loss was great. It was mostly unexpected. It was, and is, almost impossible to endure. I will allow them all the time they require to achieve acceptance. There is nothing of more importance at the moment. Philosophy waits patiently to continue the struggle, and confront the challenges that will surely present themselves. And my soul? She has seen Death before. She has been with me for quite some time. She knows me well. She has confidence in my Philosophy, as I do. She is calm. She is concerned and yet optimistic. She sits there, nodding with understanding. There is even the hint of a smile. She prepares for the next step she now knows will soon come. She is peace. What would we have done without her?

Do not be uncomfortable. Do not grieve for me.
I have experienced love. The sorrow remains.

There will be life.









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