Some musings on grief
"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
What the heck is 'grief'? A state of being? A verb? Something you do, or something that is done to you? Specifically, what is it to me? I know it's a universal human concept, but it's one of those perverse things that 'happens to everyone', but can't really be described as happening to everyone in the same way. Is it controllable? To a control freak like me, I'd like to think so, but I rather doubt it. The grief stages are going to take their course with little to no input from the person suffering from it. And boy, what suffering. There's only a few events in life that can only be described as . . . . . surreal? Events that just shatter your previous understanding of how the world works and what your place is in it. Having a child is one of those events, and losing a loved one is another.
I've lost some people in my life that were close, and that was painful. I know others who have lost some that were even closer to them, and I can only imagine what that must be like. The process reminds us of how unstable and transitory this story we call life (or this life that can be described as a story, but that's a whole different blog entry) really is. That none of us truly knows how much time we have, and we should make the most of what we do, and take nothing for granted. Nothing is trivial. It is all just to beautiful, and we often forget to enjoy it until it is too late.
But what if we didn't? What if we've taken life by the horns, made the most of our opportunities, enjoyed every minute of it, and maximized our potential? Would the loss feel at all mitigated because of it? Would we think, "Yeah, that's ok. I did it all, and that's great." It doesn't feel like it. It feels more like we'd still miss it, it would still hurt, and those around us would still endure the surreal experience of trying to move on afterwards.
We'd all still do it, we wouldn't have a choice. We can't allow ourselves to become paralyzed and stunt our continued growth by an overwhelming grief that never lets us go. We'd have to move on eventually. And we're supposedly better and stronger for the experience, although that gives little to no comfort to anyone in the mist of the grieving process. So what do we do if we're in the midst of it? Or how to help someone else through it when they're suffering. Sit shiva? Talk it through? Share the burden and hope that it grows lighter? Post about it on a blog?
Perhaps that's it. As long as you DO SOMETHING about it, and not let it incapacitate you into doing nothing, you win. There's some honor in that I think. Everyone has different ways and different capacities and gifts for handling their lives. It's those differences that make the stories so interesting. That make us so human. Still, this doesn't make it any easier, and I'm sorely tempted to just delete this entry and move on with life. But I think I'll leave it up. Perhaps later I can come back and read this again, and reply to myself with some sort of wisdom. Perhaps this emotional regurgitation will assist someone else feeling some similar nausea.
If that's the case, I should probably say a little about where my personal grief is stemming from at the moment. I lost my job. On a lot of levels, this is not necessarily a bad thing. I've made the most of the opportunity to reconnect with my sons, and they both seem to be doing better in school because of it. But I've not been unemployed since I was 15 years old, and I enjoyed what I did.
Or did I? Did I just enjoy the fact I was DOING something? Kinda like those messy break-ups you hear about. When someone says, "I wasn't in love with you, I just in love with the idea of being in love." Hmmmmmm. I don't think that was it, because if that was the case, I don't think I would have cared as much. I still dream about work, only the dreams are bizarre now. About halfway through I come to the realization that, "Oh, I shouldn't be here anymore." Then, what follows is a strange game involving 3 groups of former co-workers. One group is hunting me down, one group is trying to smuggle me out, and another group is trying to get me to stay in hiding somewhere. Needless to say, I've not slept well recently. But I've enjoyed my waking hours. I've re-established ties with some old friends, learned some new things about shopping and cooking, and picked up around the house quite a bit.
But I must admit that I am grieving a little bit. But I hope to move on as soon as possible. And to do that, I must do something about it (quite a few things actually). Time to get to work.
"Even in the deepest sinking there is a the hidden purpose of an ultimate rising. Thus it is for all men; from none is the source of light withheld unless he himself withdraws is. therefore, the most important thing is not to despair." - Hasidic Saying
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