wobbly side stepped
swallowing weeks and months
dragging minutes out
looking back across
my fractured landscape
bright shoots of
that would still lay hidden
if not for these shifts
But not the learning we know.
Not the learning we can predict and practice.
Something in grief – in pain – changes how the brain works.
Changes the very way that thoughts are processed.
Lifts the mind out beyond the usual, changing its diet, its routine, its access to light.
Thinking doesn’t just happen along its usual channels.
It may be foggy, or twisting. Labyrinthine.
It may be disconnected, or jumpy. Staccato.
And that is the nature of grief – and pain.
We are not ourselves with grief as companion.
We are more fully ourselves than ever.
It is not that our thoughts are focused on the grief, or the many questions and regrets that it triggers.
In fact, it was out beyond the release of these when the fuzz began for me.
Instead, I think, the mind is tranquilized into a darkly unthinking state. Or perhaps it is so light-filled a state that all we can see is the shadow we cast.
As I look back on it now, mind back up to speed again, I notice something profound.
With the mind no longer working right, the heart takes over.
Really and truly, in the depth of grief and pain, it is the heart that we must hear.
That is the beauty of this frustrating greyness.
It may be harder than it sounds, but the goal here is to let the mind rest. Let it off its usual duties so it can simply be.
Let go of your demands of the mind so it can be quiet.
In the space of that quiet, let the heart speak.
Let your heart drum its message into your being.
Open your ears to the tune your heart sings.
This is what it is all about.
Grief. Sorrow. Pain.
It is about what the heart needs, what the heart wants.
And it is love.
I created the top image by writing the word grief with kaleidoscope wands – the same method I use to create Triptych Soul Mandalas for you. Perhaps there is someone you would enjoy giving such a soul-ful mandala to.
The second photo is one of the light angels that Diva sends to me through her beautiful coloured bottle on my window sill.
This is wonderful. Thank you for putting this into words.