Enduring the Pains of Life
Over the last 20 years, I’ve become a person that others see as a kind of oracle for all the answers they’re seeking about their own grief.
It’s not surprising as I was born by the pangs of grief since I was a little kid.
Today is the 1 year mark of one of those losses that sent me down the path of exploring grief further.
This last year served me some serious lessons where grief is concerned.
I was irritated that I was taken out at the knees when I’m not a newbie at this.
I felt stuck, unable to “get over it” like I wished.
I thought it meant I haven’t learned a thing when I claim to be an “expert” at grief.
This time around grief caused me to seek out how to heal it instead of bury it (which I didn’t realize I was doing).
I figured it was the least I could do since others seek the same in me.
But as far as grief, I came to realize there are no real satisfying answers.
We wake up in the morning and go about as we always do (taking things for granted).
Then suddenly, with only a few words, we find ourselves lost in an abyss, as the world we knew is gone. Changed forever, as we try to make sense of the gigantic hole left in our heart.
Grieving is far from graceful.
And it is different for everyone.
Grief is the mark of love.
It also is the mark of regret for some.
“How do you heal grief”? I am often asked.
That is how I truly feel about it.
It carves you.
It shapes you.
It shifts you.
It is a passage we must go through, but it is not a place to stay.
You learn to rebuild around it, but you cannot pretend it didn’t happen.
With time, the landscape of life will sow new seeds and life will become lush once again.
I have learned so much in this last year.
I have come to find that even after tragedy and pain, life can be incredibly beautiful.
Grief seems to be the contrast sometimes that helps you to really know what love is and who really loves you. When you learn that, life changes. But sometimes the pain of grief can also make you blind or cause you to bury yourself away, so no one sees the hurt.
Trust me when I tell you, you are not weak for grieving. I had to learn this the hard way.
Loving and living are risky.
If this last year taught me anything, it’s how relentless life can be.
It helped me to understand why I was given the Shamanic name Dancing Elk.
I would need to rely on the endurance of Elk medicine to get me through this phase, which was literally about death.
The end of many relationships, the loss of loved ones.
The end of who I used to be… without yet knowing who I will become.
Grief does that.
It tears you to shreds.
Sometimes you pick up the pieces.
Other times, you just leave them there to blow away in the wind.
This is the time of year where the veil between this side and the other is very thin.
You may hear your loved one as a whisper in your ear.
Or as the wind on your cheek.
It may be the stirring in your heart revealing the memories you keep.
Whatever it is that surfaces, give it the space to be there, so it can gently leave.
Rebecca Costello, Psychic Medium
Dancing Elk Shamanic Healing