Things will never be the same

Things are not going to be the same ever again.

An easy phrase. One I have uttered myself over the last few weeks. Words are like that. Sometimes simple in form, but staggeringly hard in practice.

I have heard so many say, “We need to just get back to normal.” I hear you. Normal is always wanted when the ground has been whisked away from under our feet. If you have ever experienced gut shattering grief, being initiated into a new reality without your permission, you know what I mean. Denying. Bargaining. Pleading to go back to what was. You might very well be there now.

Things are never going to be the same again. Breathe into that truth.

Even if we want it to. Even if we pretend this never happened and go back to our lives, the old no longer exists.

We can’t go back. Grief is the alchemy of tremendous and radical change. Change so big it is impossible to wrap our minds around. Grief is like that too. It doesn’t make “sense” to the logical mind. It’s not meant to.

We awaken into a world where everything is different. The sun feels strange. Time seems to be very slow or very fast. We feel like we are moving in quicksand, grasping at any firmness to find our footing. We question, “what is wrong with me?” We forget what day it is. The slightest annoyance sends us into a rage or a storm of tears or maybe the vast chasm of emptiness. It is all part of it. All the disorientation. Hardship. Anxiety. Anger. Blame. Feeling okay and then right back in the surf.

Things are never going to be the same again.
Breathe.

I have found myself wanting to control. Plan. Give god directions on how I would like this turbulence fixed. Do something to speed up this pause. “I got the lessons, can we just move this along now?”. I have found myself judging. Angry. Sad for what it means to be human in a world of shift. I suspect you too, maybe have found yourself there.

We feel like we are in a dream.

Or could it be we are more awake?

I suppose the answer varies depending on what part of us we ask.

Two truths I know so far about grief (and please share your experiences as well).

The only way out is through. ( We cannot go back.)
There is life on the other side. (I promise.)

Like all healing, it is an organic process unique to all of us. It will require tremendous letting go of deeply ingrained parts of the self, structures, and society. We will not want to release it. We will want to hold on. But we will have to let go.

The pause is not up to us.
It will take as long as it takes.

It is easy to talk about transformation in semi-romantic terms. Cocoons and newly hatched butterfly’s. Sprouting flowers. Sunrises after dark nights. In reality, though, it is gritty and raw, totally uncertain, and etched with gripping white knuckles, gallons of tears, screams, unwashed hair, glasses of wine, and Facebook rants.

It is HARD as hell.

Grief is not a thinking process. It is a feeling one. Where things like trust, surrender, and allowing become the graces through which we must begin to move. They become the everyday practices to the required truths that are emerging. (And as a reminder, these truths will likely be ones you do not necessarily want or like).

But they are truths that are necessary. The ones we have to learn to accept piece by piece. And from there, the new will emerge. Because when we ask for healing, change, evolution (and sometimes without asking), we are not given change the way we “want it” we are sent an invitation to navigate the new reality the way it is showing up.