“Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.”
~Kahlil Gibran
It’s been a long almost three-year winter - a cold and desolate winter where my heart felt frozen and the landscape of my life dry and barren. I survived my husband’s sudden death and all the changes that took place in my life. Like so many who have suffered profound loss, I made a valiant effort to fill the hole he’d left in my life and in my heart.
Actually, I did the surviving part really well. I did “watch with serenity through the winter of my grief,” to borrow the phrase from Kahlil Gibran from the quote above. It just took a long time. I wondered if I’d ever feel joy again. I grew tired of acceptance. I wanted more. I wanted to feel the joy of being alive again.
That desire to feel joy again let me know that my winter of grief was making way for spring. Finally, the thaw began. I could feel the shoots of joy stirring in the ground, much like the seeds I planted in my garden last month are just starting to show their green rays of hope and possibility.
What did I do to welcome joy back into my life? I trusted it. Inwardly, I put my faith in joy as my natural inheritance. I looked hungrily for the signs where I would be invited to step forward an reclaim my right to joy.
The signs came. While I was attending a conference in Los Angeles, it became clear to me that it was time to return to the city I’d called home for major periods of my life. I felt happy there. That happiness was my first clue. I started talking about it - that my intention was to move back to California. That made it real.
Then, as I was driving with my daughter, we turned the corner from the street where she lives. There it was. A “For Sale” sign in front of the cutest little Crafstman Bungalow with roses in the front yard and a charming picket fence. I viewed the house and made an offer within days.
I made the bold decision to move. I bought that cute little bungalow and sold my home in Arizona where Tom and I had lived together, threw caution to the wind, and took action. Massive action.
My heart said, “yes” and so I followed the path to feeling happy. I knew that joy would not be far behind. It was catching up fast.
What did this experience of life-affirming grief teach me about joy? Joy is my true nature. It is the Soul’s currency. It’s just easy to lose sight of the joy that I am when it’s been blanketed in heavy snow for so long during the winter of grief. But, like the crocus will break through in spring, I trust that it is inevitable that joy will also rise from the depths. You can’t keep joy down forever.
Maybe my words are resonating for you. Maybe you are also enduring a harsh winter of grief that seems to be without end.
If so, this is my message to you: While the pain of loss will never fully disappear, it becomes integrated into the tapestry of your existence, serving as a reminder of the depth of your capacity to love. That is life-affirming grief.
And just as you anticipate the changing seasons with a sense of hope and wonder, so too can you approach the journey of grief and healing with a spirit of resilience and anticipation for the joy that lies ahead. It will come. It’s always been there and it always will be.
Joy rises. It always does.
Love and Blessings on Your Journey,