An Inquiry of Grief

An Inquiry of Grief

by | Jun 29, 2021 | Connection, Inquiry, Wholeness | 0 comments

There are times in our lives when the unexpected and undesired becomes our reality.

Times when things fall apart, moments when life seems to break, and our ability to keep it together weakens.

Something I notice in our modern culture is how unequipped we are at working with grief.

Whether it’s feeling the depths of personal loss or the sadness in the eyes of another, it seems we as a culture have lost the skill of navigating troubled waters.

We live in a culture that tells us to be independent, to be strong, to not rely on others. That to have needs, to fall apart, to not know what to do are all signs of being weak, and that being weak is shameful and very much not okay.

And yet, we live in human bodies that experience decline as much as they do health and vitality. Perhaps part of the gift of human experience is to participate in the cosmic joke—that as empowered, generative, and well put together as we may be, things can change in an instant and the fragility of our humanity can be quickly brought to focus.

Something we seem to forget is how grief, sadness, and tears are all natural parts of being human, just as much as joy, celebration, and ecstasy.

Unfortunately, our fast-paced, results-oriented society does not have space for these natural processes. The result is the despair and depression that so many find themselves shackled to. The abuse of pharmaceuticals and other addictions that all too often lead to spirits dimmed and lives less lived.

Humans grieve for all kinds of reasons.

Grief can feel heavy in the chest. A deep, everlasting feeling that not only are things not okay, but there is no way for them to ever be okay again. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, the death of a dream, or the acceptance of our bodily limitations, at the core is a seed of sadness.

I believe it is crucial for our individual and collective wholeness that we recultivate a rich familiarity and peace with this sadness.

It begins with the question: How do we hold ourselves in these times of distress?

To me, feeling, allowing, and surrendering to my pain has been one of the hardest lessons. It requires reaching through my disappointment of situations and touches all of my frustration, loss, and unresolved longing.

It asks me to sit with an often overwhelming experience of helplessness.

Ironically, it isn’t this helplessness that causes us to fall hardest. It’s the shame and suffering we inflict upon ourselves for feeling like we couldn’t figure it out on our own. This often results in the heaviest burdens and shades our relationships and desire for connection and closeness with others.

When unprocessed grief and sadness are layered with shame and regret, how can any of us reach each other’s hearts?

For most of us, this leads to ways of coping. Whether through addiction, digital indulgence, gambling, overeating, or any number of temporary bandages that our modern culture offers, we find ways to manage and get by.

And yet, as I’ve grown and developed over the years, it has become increasingly apparent that my old ways of coping and avoiding wouldn’t work if I desired deeper partnership and intimacy with others.

While we can easily hide and isolate, authentic connection requires us to stand in the truth of our experience and to reveal not only our light, but also our shadow to those who choose to be with us in partnership and community.

I believe facing grief, and other strong emotions, are all part of being a spiritual warrior.

At this point in my life, with the awareness of personal ownership and a desire for deeper connection as my guiding stars, I see that finding ways to process difficult and gritty emotions is not only my responsibility, but it’s what allows me to step fully on the path of empowerment and freedom.

This isn’t easy. It requires honesty and self-awareness while cultivating a heart that is willing to break for the sake of something new, and often lots and lots of tissues. But it’s worth it.

It is only when we decide to avoid the process, to soldier on, to not give our bodies, emotions, and spirit the space they need to shift, shudder, and stretch that we find ourselves lost and stuck in grief and pain.

For as much as we desire meaningful purpose and connection with the world and our loved ones, the level of closeness in which we know our tender hearts is all we are able to offer to others.

Like a caterpillar that folds inward and through many internal twists and turns becomes something new, so can we choose to allow the process of loss and grief to change us, for the better.

An Inquiry of Intimacy

An Inquiry of Intimacy

by | Jun 17, 2021 | Empowerment, Inner Work, Mind, Wholeness | 0 comments

Within us all, there is a desire for connection that at its essence can be called intimacy. This desire can emerge as longing, a deep calling for partnership; the innocent desire to be known and seen.

Much of our culture points to intimacy as something that is meant only for our significant partners, that it implies sex and is something to be guarded with and only shared with those closest to us. I believe that expanding our definition of what intimacy can mean and how it is shared will take us all one step closer to collective healing between humans.

The most profound and essential intimacy we can experience in this life is the one with our own hearts and spirit. Our ability to be fully intimate with others is directly proportionate with the connection we have with ourselves.

Unfortunately, in today’s modern age the capacity and skill to reveal our depths without getting lost or entangled requires a quality of personal intimacy and inner grounding most people were not taught while growing up.

It seems that for most of us, the moment we began to form awareness and cognition we were distracted away from our inner landscape. For various reasons we find ourselves in a period of human experience where it is more comfortable to connect with others than with the depths of ourselves.

Ironically, the consequence of this leads many of us, even those in partnerships, to feel isolated and lonely. This isolation seems to come from a lack of connection from others but in reality, stems from a lack of deep relationship with ourselves.

When we aren’t with someone who is giving us validation, comfort, and recognition, who are we? Are we ok? Am I ok?

Sadly, it is often from this place of unconscious doubt that so many of us relate with others often leading to co-dependency and unhealthy dynamics founded upon fragmented understandings of our inner world.

The best intimacy begins with an experience of self-love, expression, and inner alignment. Becoming known to ourselves. Whether it is through a practice of meditation or journaling, we begin to discover the core of who we are, the depths of our inner essence, the beauty of our hearts.

This can be a confronting process, which is perhaps why it is so overlooked in our culture. The honesty inquiry required to see ourselves authentically requires courage and steady breath. To equally observe our beauty and darkness with no judgment or action aside from a desire to deeply know the texture of our soul. To explore ourselves as both timeless and new in each moment asks us to be in a constant state of presence and wonder.

Once we begin to genuinely experience ourselves, we can then share a richer more holistic experience of ourselves with others. This expression of connection can be physical, yet often the most intimate experiences are in moments of presence, spoken truth, and the revealing silence between two people willing to let go, see, and be with each other’s humanity.

It requires a willingness to let others see our unresolved nature, our uncertainty, our pain, beauty and shadow. Often these are aspects are connected to woundings of our inner child which coincidentally needs not only the presence and care of others but most importantly needs the loving attention that only personal intimacy can provide.

While challenging and confronting at times to sit with our grief, unanswered questions, and secret longings, the more familiar we are with our inner terrain, the more brightly our hearts and souls can shine.

It’s been said we are all walking each other home. Often the way back is dark, windy, and fumbly. As we cultivate an intimacy with ourselves we become bright lights for others walking their own journeys towards the ever unfolding experience of what it means to be alive, connected, and human.