Grief quotes of the day

Discussion in 'Loss of Spouse' started by Helena Beatriz, Mar 7, 2022.

  1. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

  2. cjpines

    cjpines Well-Known Member

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  3. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

    Blessed Equinox, Grief Warriors.
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  4. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

    Before I share this I want to acknowledge that I know everyone of us feels one time or another are happy, sad, content or just nothing. This morning I started my day like any other day with my stretches, some yoga and my daily meditation. I finished my oatmeal and decided to bake a banana bread, I bought too many bananas. I tried to just be with myself, wait until finished baking around 50 minutes, looks and taste pretty good. After I finished my entire body froze then tears came, and didn't seem to stop for the rest of the day. They still come. The reality is with me I'm ALONE today is only eight months since Geoff left this universe. I have to adjust to a completely life altering transition, how to find myself after losing the version that existed before I became a widow. And withing all of this, I simply had nothing left. I had no more space to hold. I had no more energy to spare. And letting that be okay has been one of the biggest permission to slips I've given myself.
    I'm still struggling with not get into a depression state. But letting myself be human in all of it - letting myself listen to what I need - letting myselft take the steps required to support my emergence and becoming - feels sacred, even when it's scary. I feel hopefull even when depression arises. I feel like I can breathe again. And that is everything.

  5. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

    Thank you for sharing those beautiful insights, Helena.
    I have had that feeling, or something similar, the sacredness of grief.
    Emerging from the inside while rebuilding your outside.
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  6. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

    Hello dear Warrior friends

    I haven't post the quotes of the day as I used to, now I prefer to write my thoughs here for my friends that they supportted me in my horrible grievieng journey.

    Our world has set us up to perform. It's set us up to feel like we arent't living up to what could be when our lives and selves don't look like that ideal version. It's set us up to compare, to think bigger and more is better, to extract everything we can from others and the earth, to believe surface-level relationships are all we can expect, and to see performed perfection as impressive instead of seeing the full humanity of others and ourselves as enough.
    I've always been wary of this, since I was a child. The emptiness of having to perform gratitude when I didn't feel grateful, or pretened I was something I wasn't, or yearn for things I wasn't suposed to yearn for gave me such a distaste for our collective inability to be with what is real. I constantly desired realness. I desired to know how people were really doing, what they truly wanted, what lit them up and angered them and made them want to keep going. I wanted to really know others - not just the social performance version, but the full one. And I so rarely got to see the full version of anyone. I still don't get to see it often because o this conditioned performance we're all doing all the time.
    It isn't lost on me that we miss out on so much by doing the thing we think will get us true connection, true intimacy, true belonging. We edit and mold and morph ourselves into that ideal version because we think it will get us the things we're yearning for, when those things will never even the possible unless we are real. We've been set up to think we're supposed to be perfect while we quietly hold contempt for everyone we assume is perfect. We've been set up to perform for belonging all the while never trusting our belonging because we never feel seen for who we actually are. What a trap.
    So when I write, I do my best to write from a real place. From a place that isn't performing vulnerability or authencity but is instead just being myself, which sometimes includes sharing things others assume is "vulnerable", and other times includes sharing beautiful photos, drawings and other times includes sharing so many parts we're taught to hide or keep secret. And it sadly goes against what we've been taught to do which is why so many think it's vulnerable or "brave",

    May we be like trees in autumn, dropping what isn't needed.
    May we feel the weightlessness of being seen for who we truly are.
    May we embrace the hard parts of performing less and being more.
    May we believe in what is possible when we show up honest.
    May we see ourselves in one another as clear, real mirrors.
    May we trust we all arrived here belonging already, no masks needed.
    May we stay honest about the difficulty of letting our true selves out.
    May we notice when the performance arises and be kind to ourselves
    May we sense the safety felt with those who truly see us.
    May we slowly and tenderly put down the skins of our performed selves.
    May we let go of the judgement we feel towards other who practice
    being their truly selves out loud who practice saying the thing, who practice being real
    May we let go of the judgment we feel towards those who don't yet know how to drop the mask,
    who don't yet feel safe to show up honestly, who don't yet believe they can.
    May we allow the path toward showing up as ourselves be as rockly and messy
    as it is without thing that means we're doing something wrong.

    The truest version of you deserves to exist in the world. The truest version of you is enough. The truest version of you deserves to exist in the world. The truest version of you is enough. The truest version of your belongs. The truest version of you has so much to offer, to receive, to teach and give and love and witness and be held and experience and exist. I am inching toward letting that versions of myself out, slowly over time, as hard as it feels some days. The performance creeps in sometimes not because I am bad but because I am human. Yet the slow inching toward letting my truest self exist in the world feels like the deepest breath in the freshest air, and I truly believe we all deserve the relief of a deep breath in the widest meadow in the most beautiful place on earth.

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  7. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

  8. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

  9. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

  10. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

    I'm sure TGW are thinking why I'm sharing my inner thoughs with you?... Because you are my non judgmental friends and you help me heal in my early grieving days. Again I'm writing another book, but I will do in two postings. lol

    A few days ago, I was outside on my own just thinking I have to return to something that I used to do before. What I was returning to? A sense o self outside as a sisngle person. A whole life is returning I found myself I'm me. I feel other parts returning, too: my creativity, something I was certain would never take form within me again and something I've been missing so deeply. The energy to go places out of the way. A desire to cook new recipes for me alone. Yoga practice. Seeing my still-new body in a fresh light. Seeing my still-new self with a little more clarity. There has been an energy of returning lately that has nurtur
    ed my knowing of finding ourselves again after being lost - of trusting the whole of us will return, even after seasons of fragmentation, even when it will get los again. The relief in this brings me to my knees.

    I find myself in the lost places, the middle of one version of myself and another, sandwiched between Before and "After" more often than not. I've felt this beyond my new widowhood.: I've felt it during periods of depression and loneliness, during seasons of grief and stagnancy, during moments of self-doubt and questioning what's true. I've spent so much time in the suspension - in the locale of not knowing, of questioning what's next, of wondering when everything will seem solid, feeling desperate for some certainty yet slowly finding acceptance in just how little I know, and how this will always be true.

    Part of this acceptance has been undertanding that when things get lost, they can return again. When parts of me go missing, they often find their way back. When my identity feels like a smashed plate on the ground, in comes the binding glue, piecing it back together not in the exact shape it took before, but whole nonetheless. With new character, and new form, yet still intact with what once was.

    Another part of this acceptance is embracing the reality that not everything we lose, whether within ourselves or in our lives, will return. Not everything will come back, or begin again, or circle back around. Some things, some parts, some people, some places, some roles and identities and ways of being will leave for good. There is the reality of not having control here. Yet what is also here is a reminder that perhaps, permanency isn't required for something to be meaningful, to have mattered, to have shaped us. Perhaps never leaving isn't a requirement for what it meant while it was here. Perhaps clinging to what we're not meant to have, or do, or be, or hold forever is less about actually needidng the thing forever, and more about our fear of being in the lost places again.

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  11. cjpines

    cjpines Well-Known Member

    Helena, I really enjoyed reading this first book. So many things you shared are so close to my heart. I'm sure, most people are thinking the same things, inwardly, that you have mentioned, I know I can relate 100% to what you have said, I feel it too. The energy to go places, sense of self outside as a single person, seeing myself with a little more clarity, what's next, missing parts to return, acceptance, acceptance, and more you have said. Karen
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  12. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

    This is a continuation to my previous thread ... another book ... something to read as everybody in GIC is quite or I'm missing something? lol

    I've grown my reverence for the lost places. When it feels like nothing is changing, like there is no growth happening, like we're stuck in an open wound with nothing seeming to fill it, I've come to trust just how much is happening underneath the surface that just isn't showing itself yet. I've come to believe in the necessity of the lost places as part of the whole, instead of thinking they-re getting in the way of the whole. I've come to find a childlike sense of curiosity in not knowing, rather than seeing not knowing as something to fix or figure out. and I've come to forgive myself when I forget all of this -- when I'm desperate, and clinging, and feeling wildly ripped apart while lost, thinking the only thing that will make it better is the returning.

    I've also grown my trust in the returning. I've grown trust that what is needed will find its way back and what isn't won't, and one day I might understand why. I've grown trust in letting myself linger in the lost places instead of overreaching for certainty or being desperate for the return before it's ready. I've grown trust in being able to find presence in the space, in the void, in the waiting. I've grown trust in my capacty to grieve when something truly isn't coming back. An I've grown trust in noticing how the space where something once was is now open for something new to come in which brings its own kind of healing, its own kind of alaiveness, its own kind of return. And mostly, I've grown trust in being able to hold myself when I forget all of this -- when I'm searching endlessly for an answer, when I'm going over ever possible reroute in my mind that could bring it, or me, back -- when I feel the sense of urgency pushing me toward forcing something that simply isn't ready, or isn't there.

    Losing sight of parts of ourselves holds a specific kind of pain -- one that mixes grief and desperation. It is such a hard place to be. It is so hard to reach toward trust when you're actually in the lost places. It is so hard to invite in new ways of seeing things, new ways of holding yourself, new ways of approaching what hasn't yet returned. And in the society we live in, being lost is held as a personal failure, so of course we're desperate to never find ourselves in that place.

    Yet losing and finding ourselves is one of the most human processes we will move through, over and over again. It is organic and part of nature, inherent and inevitable. Losing and finding ourselves is a sign we're alive. A sign we're moving, even when we're perceiving ourselves as stuck. A sign we're integrating and remembering, learning and unlearning, holding on and letting go, being swept into the ocean and split back onto land.

    What if losing ourselves isn't failure, but surrender?
    What if losing ourselves isn't a set-back, but part of it all?
    What it losing ourselves isn't negative, but necessary?
    What if losing ourselves isn't wrong, but a map toward deeper alignment?
    What if losing ourselves isn't bad, but a signal of letting go?
    What if losing ourselves isn't something to try and avoid, but is something to lean into to learn from, to trust, to have reverence for, to allow?
    And, What if finding ourselves doesn't need to be forced?
    What if finding ourselves isn't the ultimate goal?
    What if finding ourselves isn't permanent?
    What if finding ourselves won't last long before the next version forms?
    What if finding ourselves is a recurring practice, not a destination?
    What if finding ourselves is only part of the whole?

    I think of all I've gained from being in this lost place over the last months, and how it has brough so much difficulty and also so much more clarity on what matters. I think of all I've let go of that I thought I needed. I think of all I've moved through that brought me just a little bit closer to the core of myself, the version underneath the piles of protection on top, the version that has been asking to emerge. And I see now that being in the lost places is simply part of all of it -- not a barrier but a map. Not a moral failing but a teacher. Not a sign of something being wrong, but a sign of being a person willing to fully show up to my life and what else is there?

    None of this is to bypass the pain of being lost, the grief of what doesn't return, or the deep emptiness we can feel when the open wounds aren't yet being filled. Yet it is to honor that maybe, the lost places hold more than just pain. they hold more than just grief. They hold more than just what hurts. Even when we can't see it yet.

    May you trust what is coming, even when you don't see it yet. May you let go and receive, let go and receive, let go and receive.
    May you allow what leaves to return when it's ready. May you allow what leaves to never return again if it isn't mean to.
    May you grieve what is lost so it becomes more than pain. May you hold yourself in the lost places.
    May you notice the return when it happens, even slowly, even barely.
    May you lose and find yourself over and over as a reminder that nothing lasts forever, that some things will come back, that you are wildly alive.


    I'm still a little lost. Maybe a lot lost. Parts of me I miss still haven't returned. And right now, it doesn't feel so scary. The desperation has faded. And I'm just here, open to what is coming, grieving what isn't, so wildly alive.
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  13. Rose69

    Rose69 Well-Known Member

    Thank you for this, Helena. I felt a sense of calmness and hope while reading your words. You've helped me start my day in a more peaceful way, ready to face my challenge, fighting for survival, not being overcome by the high tide but just letting it follow its course and hopefully leaving me with more strength than I had before, more wisdom and more awareness of this special gift of life that we have been given.
    Sending you hugs.
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  14. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

    Thank you for being here Grief Warriors <3
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  15. Helena Beatriz

    Helena Beatriz Well-Known Member

    Dear Warrior friends

    Here again with my thoughs sharing with you.

    "I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my life - and I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing I wanted to do". Georgia O'Keeffe.

    My sister sent me this quote the other day when I shared hesitancy around fully owning and trusting my new path. It's a favotite quote of mine - one that has been so deeply true my whole life and one that holds the kind of energy I've been cultivating lately.

    Amost everything I've ever done that I consider important or transformative has been done afraid, without knowing what the outcome will be, with nohing but rust in what is possible and a willingness to embrace the unknown. We often wait for something we don't even know will come. We wait for cetainty or more confidence, for fear to dissipate or self-assurance to deepen, for the perfect circumstances and the best timing and the most ideal of situations before we go after what we want. We wait until we feel 100% certain or in complete control before we even admit our longings to ourselves, before we take action, before we show up to what we're call to, before we let ourselves to seen, before we share our art or our heart, before we do the things we want to do in this lifetime, whatever he have left. And the truth is, those things might never come. They might not happen in the way we think they need to. They might not end up looking how we think they shoud.

    And...we can slowly practice letting go of needing those perfect circumstances, of needing to fully believe in ourselves, of needing certainly on what the outcome will be, of needing control over how it all goes...and choose to show up anyway. We can be trembling and press send anyway. We can be terrified and do the thing, and be the person we want to be, and share the art we have to share, and make the choices we need to make, and live the life we want to live, imperfectly and maybe not fully but to the best of our abilities, one small moment at a time.

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  16. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

    I carry your heart with me
    I carry it in my heart
    I am never without it
    Anywhere I go you go, my dear
    And whatever is done
    by only me
    Is your doing, my darling
    I fear no fate
    For you are my fate, my sweet
    I want no world
    For beautiful you are my world,
    my true
    And you are whatever a moon
    has always meant
    And whatever a sun will always
    sing is you
    Here is the deepest secret
    nobody knows
    Here is the root of the root
    and the bud of the bud
    And the sky of the sky
    of a tree called life;
    Which grows higher than
    the soul can hope or mind can hide
    And this is the wonder that's
    keeping the stars apart
    I carry your heart
    I carry it in my heart."
    e.e. cummings
  17. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

  18. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

  19. Rose69

    Rose69 Well-Known Member

    While thumbling away on my piano, trying to do some music therapy, I came across an emotional song by country singer Lorrie Morgan, called "If you came back from heaven. . I haven't got a clue how to post a YouTube video, as I am not very 'technologically able' - I hope I've made you laugh again Lou!
    So I've just posted some of the lyrics, the last lines particularly touched me. IMG_20221217_082656.jpg
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  20. Countess Joy

    Countess Joy Well-Known Member

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