Don't forget to write 22/52

“Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater. ”But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.” 
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet 

Week 22: Don’t forget to write

A story of awakening appears as I reflect on the decisions I made from a lifetime of heartache. This devastation began with the loss of my 5-year son, Ryan in 1993. Grief destroyed the life I had been building and the future I once believed in. Consumed by this crater of anguish, I stumbled through what remained. Until the sudden death of my father knocked me down again. Feeling cursed, I begged desperately for guidance to untangle the devastation. And then, as if I didn’t know suffering, my brother died. In the span of ten years I waded in grief, becoming closely acquainted with its barbs.

Throughout the years, loss left me overwhelmed as I bristled with uncertainty, knitting a constant haze of questions, that pondered the purpose of my survival. With grief as my co-pilot, I searched for answers that would never come. From one day to the next, uncovering my worth became my lifeline, with achievement the constant objective. I depended on these goals  to find my significance, as the undertones of guilt guided me.  

Unraveling the years, revealed how my days were tumbling past like an open book in the breeze. This reality of always chasing exposed the sticky side of survival as the bereaved search for meaning. There had to be something I was meant to accomplish. Some reason I survived. Seeking fulfillment, I began picking at the thread of my thoughts, there must be a way other than this clumsy road where grief and guilt collided. 

Tired of struggling, I searched for a healing path where a softer approach could release the guilt I carried. A space to just be. Slowly I discovered a mindfulness approach where both forgiveness and laughter trickled in. Even though exercise and running provided a focus towards the future. There was more work to do be done. Abandoning the spectacle and comparison of social media created the mindset I needed to begin. With books as my balm, I found the place to both learn and escape while guiding me forward. Eliminating the need to prove something and the outside voices moved me back to a place I loved, where writing revealed my story.

Grief shoved me onto a journey of discovery, a quest to understand something that has no answer. Eventually I discovered small steps that could make a big difference. At first, I had to believe my survival was possible, so I could do the things they never could. Now I  see those goals were my distraction to get me through one more day, creating the shift I needed then, which opened into a world of writing and my space for solace.