Grief is a vulnerable and permanent journey that appears in many forms and although each of us know it in some manner, it does not breathe the same in any of our hearts nor do the details of our experiences read alike in our individual stories.

For a few, it has the ability to randomly pull them back into the history of the past by uncovering the knowledge of their losses even when the lighting is just right and they are no where near those moments from the yesterdays.

A portion hold a pain that knows no boundaries in the gardens of their lives and although they try to create the walls that will contain its growth, for some, it will somehow still cast shadows and seep into the beds of their dreams and hopes for happiness.

Several carry it as the reminders that they have been changed by being enfolded by its events even though their reflection in the mirror remains as a familiar one.

For others it is a rollercoaster of emotions and blooming thoughts that affect their ability to cope, to show up and to communicate not only with others but especially with themselves.    

For even more, the timeless messages of sorrow are present in the energy of their steps and their desire that who they are tomorrow, will have finally made sense of the pain that they can’t seem to leave behind today.

For most, its power lies not in the volume or type but by simply being the marks of their travels that have found a way to bleed through page after page, muddying their art no matter how careful they try to be with their brushstrokes and words.

What grief is not, regardless of who it belongs to, is an experience to get over, a single mountain to climb, a place for judgement or something to compare because rejecting the bonds that we individually hold with our struggles only validates why they should continue to flourish.

The conflict is not that we are embraced by those encounters but that we have yet to understand that our unrehearsed trails have the space for us to laugh, cry, love and fall however it is ourselves who fear the weather, the darkness and the weeds.

And so it goes with sometime warriors whose hearts have been touched by the loss of people, places and things and recovering from that grief isn’t in letting them go but in noticing with curiosity how we have coped before so that we may use that as the guides for the goals of doing it differently today.       

Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell

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