Sometimes birth includes loss. Sometimes loss of life, and sometimes other types of losses. When birth plans go down the drain and nothing happens the way it was wanted or expected, that can create a deep sense of loss marred with shame or regret. When bodies 'fail' us, sometimes that results in a loss of trust or closeness with the body. Sometimes it's a loss of connection with a partner, a loss of faith in a higher power, or simply losing our personhood in the trenches of motherhood.
Below is a beautiful entry from Rising Woman, entitled "A Letter to My Friends Currently in Grief ((Grief is Not Linear))". I post this here in hopes that it will reach someone who has felt loss and needs to feel seen. I see you, I care about you, I wish I was there to hug you and hold space for you on your journey. If I can be a friend to you, please reach out to me and trust that I'll be there. If this resonates with you and you think one of your friends could use this reminder about the power and depth of their grief, please send it to them too.
((( Grief is Not Linear )))
There is no right amount of time, to be in grief.
There is no recipe, no formula, no perfect way to navigate the depths of heartache, pain, and sadness that follow loss.
Loss of a dream, loss of hope, loss of love, loss of someone, loss of a soul we only carried for a short time, loss of someone we knew and loved for years…
Yes, with love there will be loss, and with love, there will be grief. Lots of it.
Grief can blow through us like a heavy wind, carrying us off into a dark territory we’ve yet to explore.
You come to this place, with no compass.
You simply have to let go, and let what’s happening in. Let it all in, you are strong enough for this.
Grief looks a million ways, but “together” isn’t one of them.
It looks like sleepless nights spent pleading with God to bring back what was lost…
It looks like moments of heart shatter and bursting into tears when the cashier asks how your day was…
Grief looks like desperately trying to see the beauty in something, anything, to remind you that you’re alive – just let go. You don’t have to be in that place just yet. You’ll get there, in your own time.
Grief is not linear. You have permission to feel.
Feel as deeply as you possibly can.
Go ahead and dive deep beyond the surface, and when you come up for air, remember you’re safe.
Remember you can swim, even when you feel as though this sorrow and pain might drown you to death and the tears flowing out of you may never stop… Remember you’re safe. Let yourself be held in a lullaby of your Ancestors, you are not alone in this.
Grief is a teacher. The Dark Goddess comes to us when we least expect her, and we try to run.
We fight and we thrash against the medicine she carries – Death, it’s too much to bare at times. We wish to sweep it all away and make things tidy.
We wish to not feel so deeply for the discomfort of being met with confusion – our people have not been taught how to hold space for death. But do not shy away, you become a teacher in your own grief.
Do not succumb to our culture’s fear of feeling the hurt.
Do not allow shame to seep into your bones for the rage and the sadness that runs through your veins. Do not rush this process.
Here is where you find yourself reborn. And with loss, a part of you will die. You’re changed, forever, that’s it – no going back. And that’s ok.
This, my dear, is how you become wise.
This, my dear, is how your Ancestors became keepers of ancient wisdom.
You are strong enough, brave enough, courageous enough. Grief is not a linear process, take as much time as you need.