Fragility of Wounds

 It’s a profound insight—that our wounds are where the light gets in. 

 

Rumi said this a long time ago, and Leonard Cohen sang about it more recently, although he said cracks instead of wounds. It makes sense because where we are wounded is where we need help, and it’s when we look for assistance. When we’re happy, we don’t think we need more light.

 

Notice how many similar words grievers use to describe how they feel—wounded, broken, cracked, fractured, fragmented, shattered.

 

When we have suffered a loss, we may feel defeated and shaken. We may feel ashamed that we have been hurt, and turn away from the situation rather than face it. Yet, this moment has something important to teach us about ourselves and the world that we did not perceive before, an illusion we believed, perhaps, or our inattention to someone who wanted our help but we were too busy to notice what they were really saying. 

 

Fractured Fairy Tales

            Grief and fairy tales aren’t obvious dinner companions.

 

            When we’re grieving, we would dearly love for someone to ride in on a great white horse and rescue us. This seldom happens in real life. What we get instead is a coyote who appears on the trail, says, “Walk this way,” and heads deeper into the dark forest where we learn things we wouldn’t have understood otherwise.

 

            There is no “happy ever after” with grief because the only thing we want is for our loved ones to be back, and we know this isn’t going to happen. While our life down the road can still end up being pretty good, and there will be days with goo-gobs of joy, in the beginning, every memory of our loved one will come with a side order of grief.