Riffs on a hidden subject
In the Cathedral of the Constellations, candles burn on the altars. The ritualized patterns of hands moving in the air. Kneelers worn by decades of devotion. The stone labyrinth on the floor. Prayers echo in the wooden rafters, there among the primary elements of the universe—faith hope, doubt, community, kindness, despair, and love.
Those who grieve don’t need words of sympathy. They need our hugs and presence.
The philosophy of Wabi-Sabi — Nothing lasts. Nothing is finished. Nothing is perfect.
Generally, the most help to someone who is grieving comes from those who have grieved, who know that there is nothing they can do to take away the pain, yet know that little things they do can help others bear the pressing weight of sorrow.
Compassion brings hope into the struggle, for others and ourselves.
Words are never neutral in grief. They either bring life, or they tear down. What is polite does nothing but create a vacuum. Words either make us rejoice that someone understands what we’re going through, or they make us shake our heads over their lack of awareness. We seek refuge among the holy people we know.
Sufi – “When the heart grieves over what is lost, the spirit rejoices over what it has left.”
Half of the world believes in the strength and wonder of the individual. The other half believes in the strength and compassion of the community. Herein lies the problem when a grieving individual is not part of a community, or if their community is so focused on goals that it no longer values the wellbeing of its individual members.
Pablo Neruda – “There is no space wider than grief.”
We don’t know how people will react when we speak about our grief. Some people fear that if we mention Death’s name, this will invite Death to come near. If we do speak Death’s name, do so with respect. Even Death has its pride.
Frida Kahlo - “At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.”
Grief is ritual in search of home.
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