Grief ends up giving you the two best things: softness and illumination. – Anne Lamott
Good Grief – The Stay Soft Series – Part 5
Go to PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7
If you’re going to commit to tenderness, then as a byproduct, you commit to grief, too. That’s the reason so many of us build a hard shell around our hearts. One taste of grief is enough to turn us off for a life time. Hardness please, thank you very much!!
The problem with being soft is that you can’t choose what to be tender too; it all gets in.
“Grief sucks; it really does. Unfortunately, though, avoiding it robs us of life, of the now, of a sense of living spirit. Mostly I have tried to avoid it by staying very busy, working too hard, trying to achieve as much as possible. You can often avoid the pain by trying to fix other people; shopping helps in a pinch, as does romantic obsession. Martyrdom can't be beat. While too much exercise works for many people, it doesn't for me, but I have found that a stack of magazines can be numbing and even mood altering. But the bad news is that whatever you use to keep the pain at bay robs you of the flecks and nuggets of gold that feeling grief will give you. A fixation can keep you nicely defined and give you the illusion that your fife has not fallen apart. But since your life may indeed have fallen apart, the illusion won't hold up forever, and if you are lucky and brave, you will be willing to bear disillusion. You begin to cry and writhe and yell and then to keep on crying; and then, finally, grief ends up giving you the two best things: softness and illumination.” Anne Lamott, from “Traveling Mercies”.
I apologize for the large quote, but really, who can say it better than Anne?
Grief sucks. There are no two ways about it. But if you want to be tender and soft; if you want to stay true to you, connected to the tender heart of God, tenderly connected to one another, then we will know grief, too.
But in the end, it bears its own gifts: softness and illumination. Nothing cracks a hard heart quite like grief does. Nor does anything else shine a light so stark and bare on our lives. It’s sobering, and, if you’re soft enough to it, empowering. You’re left pretty much with what you have. No running, or hiding, or coping mechanisms, or lies, or pretensions: just you, clarified.
So yes, while the problem with being soft is the full experience of grief when it comes, the problem with being hard is that “it robs us of life, of the now, of a sense of living spirit.” It robs us of the clarification that comes after a fiery ordeal. It robs of the tenderness we find within it, from God and from our loved ones; the vulnerability and beauty of compassion, empathy and comfort. It robs us of the illuminating light that comes as hope dawns on our soft, and tender lives.
Stay soft, dear friend.
Go to Part 6 – I Will Remove From You Your Heart of Stone »
Written by Lizzy Milani
[vcex_image_grid columns=”3″ pagination=”false” thumbnail_link=”custom_link” link_title_tag=”true” custom_links_target=”_blank” overlay_style=”title-category-visible” columns_gap=”5″ img_hover_style=”fade-out” image_ids=”20934,20935,20937″ custom_links=”https://itunes.apple.com/app/apple-store/id1239768002?pt=118656308&ct=blog%20footer&mt=8,https://www.pktfuel.com/dailyemail,https://www.pktfuel.com/support” img_height=”350″]