Navigating Grief

I’m no expert on grief, I’m certainly not the first to experience it. And with all things, grief is just as individual as our unique fingerprint.

And yet there seems to be one thing that is true for all of us who have said goodbye to someone we love - grief moves like a wave.

Sometimes it’s still, calm and quiet. With a soft inner knowing. And other times it rolls on in never ending undulations. Sometimes we are ready for the wave and other times it feels like an unexpected, shocking crash. 

As I write this I’m sat with my morning cacao, by the Olive tree planted in memory of my father, my beautiful Baba. There are tears streaming down my face that are so big, fat and unstoppable. I’m marvelling that my body keeps producing these salty drops. I’m listening to the song we played as my husband, brother, nephews and nieces carried my father out of the church. Ya Tair by Fairuz. This song equally rips my heart out and fills me with a deep and beautiful love.

Grief is profound like that - painful and yet simply exquisite all at the same time. My mind boggles at that juxtaposition… and the ALL-ness of this human life. All of it, all at once. 

As I write this, it’s only been 23 days since my father left his earthly body, finally free of pain and free to weave magic from beyond. At the ripe age of 87, I’m in awe that this man was (still is) my father, my Baba. I’m in awe that I have been loved like he loved me, that I can mourn his death and celebrate life. I’m in awe that everyday there is magic and mystery and beauty… and grief.

All of this is wonderful and wild to me. What an initiation it is to say goodbye to a parent. I bow to all of you before me who have ridden these waves. And I ready myself to hold all of you have yet to do so. This is what it means to be human. 

Life.

Death.

Rebirth. 

Is there anything else? This is what we truly know. Nothing else is as constant as this cyclical change. 

And threaded into all of it is LOVE. 

Recently, a friend sent me this message. A beautiful man and new father. A man I see as standing strong in his divine masculine.

He said:

“Claire, I just wanted to say you are a truly incredible human. Your commitment of deeply being with the present no matter how difficult or painful, and feeling it all shows how true to the path of love your whole being is and how you shine that light of love in the world”… 

Such words I don’t feel worthy of, and yet as I read them I think to myself, is there really any other way? 

Presence.

True to love.

Shine and share the love.

If there’s anything I want to take from this recent rite of passage it is a deeper commitment and embodiment of love.

I have a lot more ego story to shed, I have a lot more of my own wounding to heal. I have alot more of my own limitations to break through, but I know that I am already whole. And I can continue you on joyfully and reverentially through this life if I remember this deeper love that is within me. A love that is awakening because of the very grief I’m experiencing.

Something that feels so deeply personal yet is so universal. A grief that often leaves me feeling alone in the experience of it, yet not lonely. A passage that feels exhausting and relentless yet most certainly is not one to rush or bypass. A journey of surrender, acceptance and allowing whilst moving forward and choosing the living.

Let’s see where this takes us.

In love,

Claire