Finding Peace - Week thirteen

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September 25, 2016

"The greatest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude" ~ Thornton Wilder

Week thirteen (September 18th -24th)

Finding peace

The promise of the season awakens a sense of renewal and I inhale an elative breath. The crisp air catches in my throat and I step into the abundant sun. Listening to the chatty sparrows pierce the air with song, a symphony of enchanting clatter as I drink in their happiness.

The radiance magically unfolds in the sunlight creating a pause in my stride as I savor its beauty. Often a tug of melancholy creeps in to my day and I fight to ignore its friendship, while pursuing the gratitude that slowly illuminates the veiled darkness I strive to heal.

Embracing the view of joy can be difficult to seize during the conflicts of grief, often absent in a state of guilt, the sadness sneaks in and captures my authority as I fight to extinguish its charms.

Admiring nature’s grandeur delivers a lift that rescues me from the emptiness hustling in by placing me within the glistening of wonder where nature provides the beauty and solitude I consume like refreshing ale.

Grief’s waves remain exhausting as swells of heartbreak rise like the tide. A continuous bleed of emotions unraveling from grieving to grateful in a torrent of emotions. Even years after the loss of my son, this identity still fills me with trepidation as I vacillate through sadness in search of light, marinating with a longing for what was.

Drenched in sadness I stumble to gather reasons to persevere, unearthing compassion as I amble across the dirt covered trails that tenderly provide gratitude and insulate the warmth I desire to assemble.

Withdrawing to this place of quiet inspires the grace to discover beauty amongst the darkness that broke me. Leaning in to the softness that allows me to breathe while slowly churning through my tangled soul, a simple process that arranges fractured pieces of the past.

With the cool air providing a soft place to unravel, I notice each breath as it escapes in a perfect rhythm of calm and find my center. The breeze awakens the branches and they groan in a slow coarse melody, while I crunch through the pinecones blanketing what is left of the path.

Endless prompts from nature create a nudge of warmth as my soul begins to heal. Establishing the spirit that inspires grace while releasing the tangle of sadness that with times tender balm provide balance during our greatest lessons and impossible aches.

These brisk walks capture my imagination and rekindle wonder. A thirty-minute stroll transforms into gratitude while rebuilding my spirit, and with enough practice I recognize gratitude in all the tiny details encompassing my day.

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