This is the fourth part of my series “Finding Beauty After Loss”. If you have missed any of the first three, they are linked at the end of this newsletter.
Writing is hard. Committing to writing every week is challenging. I admire all you writers out there a lot. I admire your abilities to create with words. I have always been a visual person. I think in images, I think about images, I create images, I dream of images, I love looking at images. But I love words as well, and one of the reasons why I started this publication, besides sharing my photography, is to write more, to write every week, and to practice my ability with words and get better. Everything takes practice, and to get better at anything, you have to do it regularly. You might be surprised to hear this, but it’s taken me years to come to the realization that anything that I want to do in life takes diligent practice, commitment and discipline. Needless to say, it’s been so good for me to commit to this.
This week’s post didn’t come easily at all. I have worked on it for several days, hours at a time, only to start over and over again, and, of course, I became convinced, once again, that I would not hit the publish button this week. But then it occurred to me that it might not be because I lack words, I lack ability, or whatever other reason I would come up with, but simply because writing about grief isn’t easy, and it can’t be forced.
Then, a couple of days ago, I was unexpectedly given some food for thought when I read this comment in response to one of my previous posts: “Pain is addictive.”
I’m not quite sure what this person meant, but I was surprised that someone would come to this conclusion after reading my thoughts on grief. It made me think and it made me write.
I don’t know if pain is addictive, but I do think that we are addicted to everything that can numb pain, stop pain, and make us forget that pain and suffering are universal experiences. Maybe it’s our attempts to avoid pain that has turned us into the most addicted society. We are over-consuming, overspending, over-drinking, over-eating, over-using and are overstimulated and overwhelmed most of the time, maybe because we can’t or won’t or don’t want to live with pain. Maybe loneliness has become an epidemic not because pain has become addictive, but because we don’t know how to be with and walk alongside someone who is in deep pain. Maybe we are in desperate need to relearn skills that help us to be present and help us foster connection, even, or especially, when there is pain.
I don’t have answers, but my experience of living through loss has made me a passionate believer that life is beautiful and life is painful, often at the same time, and being fully alive means learning to hold it both.
Experiencing the death of my brother and the birth of my firstborn son within one year was a confusing and difficult time, but it has also brought me to a place of more courage and honesty. When my brother died, something inside of me died as well, but at the same time my desire to create that had been brewing inside of me came fully alive for the first time.
I wish my brother hadn’t died, obviously, but at the same time, I am deeply grateful for the person I have become since and because of his death.
I believe that experiencing grief and loss can lead to bitterness, but if you let it, it can open you up to love and beauty in new ways.
I believe in letting a person go, but I also believe in holding onto the memories.
I believe in laughter and in tears.
I believe that laughing together is wonderfully healing. I believe that crying together is healing as well.
I believe that grief is difficult, painful and hard. I also believe that grief can bring out and make visible an unspeakable beauty you couldn’t see before.
I believe that the initial and very intense pain of losing a loved one subsides over time, but missing your loved one never stops.
I believe that joy is all around us, and I believe that the scars from experiencing a loss never disappear.
I believe that pain and grief are universal experiences, and I believe that we are creative beings designed to bring even more beauty into this already beautiful world.
I believe that loneliness is a universal experience, but I also believe that we are created for connection and community.
I believe in honest thoughts and in honest emotions.
I believe that resilience and strength come from living through the pain but not through avoiding it.
I believe that the human experience is very complex. We were not promised a pain free life, but if we embrace what it means to be human in this world, we can live a deeply meaningful life.
Living means
to hold the astonishingly beautiful
and unbearably hard things
in the same palm.
- Suleika Jaouad
As always, thank you for taking your time to read this! The best way to support me and my work right now, is to become a subscriber.
Agree with Shital. Meaningful and spot on, too.
“I believe that laughing together is wonderfully healing. I believe that crying together is healing as well.” In my faith, we have a saying - Laugh with those who are laughing; weep with those who are weeping. Because, as you so beautifully described, all these opposites of the spectrum of life experiences are equally valid and valuable and to be honored 💕