Opening our hearts invites a banquet of emotions and not all of them feel good. I remember crying for the first time after about a decade of stiff-upper-lip, spiritual bypass, unrelenting optimism. I'd been aware that my heart was armored and worried that if I ever did crack open and start crying I might not be able to stop. Well, I started and I did manage to stop, but not until I'd plumbed the depths of grief and surfaced with a wholly unexpected appreciation for the blessing of sorrow.
I've heard a warning that the bravest thing any of us can do in life is to loveanother human deeply because we will lose them, or they will lose us. I've lost my father, my mother, a few best friends. I will lose my brothers, clients, business partners, and my beloved, or they will lose me. That pain of loss - already experienced or anxiously awaited - can be so soul crushing ... is love really worth it?
I say "Absolutely!" - not because the good outweighs the bad but because I'm slowly coming to understand that it's all good.Sorrow is not the price I pay for joy, it's just something on life's menu that tastes sour, not sweet, maybe even bitter at times. But it's essential, like every other nutrient produced by my heart to nourish my soul.
Grief hollows me out. It clears out emotional clutter and expands my capacity for expressing love. It helps develop my ability to manage the frequency of each loving connection with others.
I once had a best friend named John. We shared a home together in our early 20's. It was a party house. I eventually moved away, started meditating and got my health and head together, while John partied on. I'd see him once a year or so and he'd poke fun at how boring I'd become.
I remember our last visit when his good natured teasing turned dark and hissarcastic comments hurt me. It was an awkward conversation that ended with a clear message that John preferred to not hang out with me again. Not ever. And we never did. Because John died a month later in a head on car crash. I listened to my dad on the phone telling me the details and immediately connected with the very same dread I'd felt when John dissed me. He had severed his energetic connection with me that day and he didn't have any other friends who weren't drugging and partying like he always did.
John was responsible for what happened to him, we all are, but I have somehow always felt that when John broke our love connection he lost a sort of energetic protection that flowed from me to him. That might sound grandiose but there's a reason we say things like, "Please pray for my sister who goes into surgery tomorrow morning." We understand that love makes a difference.
Love Casting isabout being our brother's keeper. And our sister, father, mother, daughter, friend.... where does it end? It's about broadcasting love unconditionally and fine tuning perception to give visitors to our awareness exactly what they need in each moment.
If I could turn back time I'd return to that moment with John, sitting on the lawn at my parent's lakeside home, and I would say, do, or just feel something different. I can't do that. But I can attend to present moments with others, sharing love in every way that's appropriate and with a maturing ability to do it effectively.
And, yes, I will lose those I love. I will weep. I will be swamped by grief.That will enlarge and renew me, just as the news of my departure from this life will invite those who have loved me to evolve themselves through the blessing of sorrow.
