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Here's the thing about the grief process...

Here's the thing about the grief process, it doesn't give you a 15 minute warning, a meeting invite, an invitation in the post; Save the Date, 10th July at 11 a.m. Have your tissues at the ready, water, a safe place, a friend. It doesn't pre-warn. It just comes. Explodes. From nowhere. Left field. Often when you've been happy, movin', in the flow. It sneaks in there, amongst your joy, your peace. Waiting to arrive. And pour. Or scream. Or wail. It comes. In the least expected moments.

Oh that smell? Oh that sound? That taste? That touch? That sight of a warm smile. POW. There. There it is. Sadness come to greet you, sorrow in its lap, pain in its brow. Jacket wrapped in anger, 'why now?' across its shirt. 'Will it ever end?' sown on its hat. A cup of bereft in its hand. Wearing trousers of frustration. Shoes of confusion. Oh, hello grief my old friend. Please, sit down, in your heavy regalia. You have come at quite the most inappropriate time. Quite frankly, I could have done without your visit. I have much to do, much to do. I was perfectly happy just 10 minutes ago. Why are you here? Stopping me in my tracks. Rendering me to the floor. What do you need? Again? I cried you many times before. What more do you need? Are we not done here Sir? Madame? They? Them?

Morning child, allow me to greet you. We have much to feel, much to do. A window of grief is opening and you need to pour it through. For the tears, will be the making of you. Feel me now, feel me quick and move on with deeper joy, deeper compassion. Deeper capacity in your heart. For expressing me, allows more light to come in. Feel me, heal me, make room for more love to come in. You may not want me, but I'm necessary. I'm necessary, for your aliveness, your fullness, your humaness. The quicker you welcome me, the quicker I leave. So child, put the kettle on, feel it and breathe and we'll meet again some other time to allow even more light to come in. There's much more love yet to arrive. Much much more...


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