Every Wednesday

Every Wednesday I will post something about grief. Sometimes it will be a reflection on an aspect of grief’s landscape. Now and then I will share from my own journey of grief, because in the sharing of our stories we find strength and build a community of people that support one another.

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Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Love Is a River

Love is a river. It doesn’t exist when it’s not in motion.

When grief comes, love moves from being a noun to being a verb.

Love is the awareness of being.

We do not possess love as if it were a thing that can be stored on the shelf. Taken down. Looked at. Admired. Love exists in sharing. When we stop sharing love, it goes away.

Love is a sculptor who removes our nonessentials, until we stand with nothing left to hide.

When grief comes, survivors discover the depths of love, and the emptiness of its absence.

Love is a crucible, and it’s a chrysalis.

I break my love in two, give half to you. If you love me back, the piece you give is fused to the piece I kept. Gradually we become everyone who has loved us.

Love is a fire that burns our hesitations to ashes, and releases the phoenix of our hearts.

When grief comes, I will love you with my whole being. I will love you with the earth's compassion and the mountain's strength. I will love you until both of us are transformed into love.

Love is an act of being, and becoming.

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