I just read an incredible post about grief, by Danielle La Porte, and though I cannot even begin to trump how beautifully it was stated, I just want to acknowledge the topic of seasons. Literally, around us....and figuratively within us...
It is now the dark of the year. The nights are long. The days are over so quickly...
When Dec. 21st gets here, the sun will finally!...little by little....show her beautiful face at a pace that isn't evident to us immediately. We must wait for her to come to the party. She's the one that gets things going, motivates us, brings us flowers, and always leaves us feeling warm and brightened once she finally shows up. She's at another party right now....but, come March---she will be the loudmouthed Pollyanna who makes us feel like assholes for not joining in the fun.
Until she arrives in March, we continue to swim through the darkness. In darkness, things are concealed. Inward thinking and hibernation ensue. It is the season of winter, when the bitter freeze kills many of summer labor's fruits. Past labors. Things that we worked on,...in June or July have now lost juice, momentum or life by this time of year.
In this truth, lies grief for some. You got laid off, or your book is finished. You took that winter vacation you slaved and saved for all summer and autumn long. The relationship you were nurturing has come to a close. Or all that weight you lost has crept on slowly with sumptuous holiday feasting. Perhaps, you forgot to cover your plants the night it froze, so now they are crispy, brown and lifeless.
After we ignore these things for a while, kick ourselves a bit for ignoring them, mentally make deals with Mother Nature about how we are going to change them,....and sit paralyzed in apathy because it's too dark outside to exercise or plant things......
We then have an opportunity to accept that physically planting something new is the only way we are going to fill the hole in our garden. We have a chance to accept that backing off of the mashed potatoes, and ON to the elliptical trainer is the only way we are going to allow the stages of grief to morph us into butterflies again.
Though it is December, we must remember that the spring of March is waiting for us. And Spring is going to want to see what we have achieved in the interim. Show her the money. What have you done for her lately? The proof will be seen when the sun comes out, and we can no longer hide in the shadows....
Enjoy these shadows, when no one has the energy or wherewithal to meticulously check your work in broad daylight.
In this moment, I am allowing the past to be the past. Though stuck in limbo somewhere between anger and bargaining....I think I am having pangs of acceptance interrupt my text book order of grief stages.
I'm counting on New Orleans to "slap one of her Mamas" after she gets a taste. And, Goddess willing......Mama's gonna knock her out.
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