Dancing with grief and grace

I find myself in a dance right now between grief and grace.

My heart hurts upon waking and it seems to take the jaws of life at times to pull my attention away from the painful stories in my mind and shift toward my breath and the innocence of the present moment.

I get myself up and moving and at times throughout the day I am again overcome, filled with so many emotions, one after the other, and it feels like I will be tortured by this painful experience for eternity.

And then there is grace: little reminders here and there to bring me back to center, to remind me that I am loved, to remind me of the limitless capacity of my love.

There is grace as it shows up in my work–last night a phone session with a dear soul needing guidance and clarity as she processes the end of a significant relationship, and after an hour of deeply listening to her and calling forth what’s needed, it was as if *I* just had someone spend an hour holding space for me as I processed my own grief, and fears, and questions of “what now?” She walked away clear, connected and grounded in herself and so did I. Through you, my wisdom is called forth in ways that grace us both. There are no words for my immense gratitude for that gift.

I’m not a victim of another or of my circumstances, I am a powerful agent of grace, and as I step into that awareness, I am met by grace around every corner.

And so it is.

Melissa

Grieving

Every painful loss I have ever endured has only been the loss of an illusion.

And it fucking hurts in every cell of my body as I grieve and resist. I get angry at God, like my wants were a perfect plan ripped away, like I’m being punished for something, like a spoiled child screaming, “You never let me have ANYTHING!!!!”

And then, somehow, I surrender. I pick up the pieces and move on. Life goes on without my illusion.

Today, I’m not there yet. I was really attached to this illusion.