Place Without Boundaries

 The death of someone close pulls us out of our normal life and throws us into a place that exists between the world of the living and the world of the dead. We feel alone and isolated by the trauma. People don’t understand the importance of the words we haltingly speak. We feel detached from everything we have known and trusted, and abandoned in a place without any familiar landmarks. We feel hollowed out, like the Clothespin giant sequoia in Yosemite whose center was burned out by a fire, yet continued to live. 

100 Miles Beyond Where Jesus Lost His Sandals

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the Lenten journey for Christians. It’s when they look to see how far they have strayed from the path of faith, and if they need a refresher course in humility.

The title of this post struck me as fitting both the journey of faith and the journey of grief when we have to be brave and travel far beyond everything we’ve known, trusting that we will somehow make it through. 

The Darkness of Grief

When grief comes, sounds go mute, the world fills with shadows, and we feel cold all the time. 

Artists of Dark Mountains

painting by Alec DeJesus, “Vices of the Burning Bear” 

When grief comes, and suffering pulls a shroud over the sun, we move into the shadows of dark alleys and walk over shards of broken meaning. We may feel abandoned and alone, but at least this place is safe from trauma.

The darkness is where artists go to create. 

Integrating Our Loss

Dark Night 4 of 4

Grief takes our world apart and sets us down in darkness, in a time and place away, where we can figure out how we are going to cope with the trauma and restructure our lives. The grief we feel over the death of someone close challenges our beliefs. It takes us to the far edge of faith as we try to comprehend what has torn our hearts apart. We cannot see our way ahead and feel abandoned.

Dark Night of Grief

Dark Night 1 of 4: Shattered Illusions

Many people feel uncomfortable when they’re alone in the darkness, even when they’re standing in their own backyard and watching the stars at midnight. It’s as if the darkness can’t be trusted and this is where nasty creatures live. Like Thomas Merton, I find presence and solace watching the stars in the dark hours before dawn. This is when words of inspiration come, and meditation deepens.

With grief, however, when the darkness lingered for longer than I thought it should, and dawn did not come, I began to feel uneasy.

Candle of Love

In this dark night of grief,

a candle of love burns

that will never go out.

Mark Liebenow