Gratitude for Sorrow

Often I think about what a gift it is to just exist in this space and time. To be fully alive and aware while planting my feet firmly on a spinning planet in the middle of nowhere… that is a mind blowing thought in itself let alone add in that we also get to fall in love and feel emotions and connect with others through vulnerability and authenticity. When I think about all of these crazy details, it humbles me into a kind of thankfulness that I get to be a part of something much bigger than I am. I then can’t help but think about both the joy and the sorrow that I have endured while walking on this plane. This joy and sorrow, both in equal measure. It is in this very essence that I realize just how consciously thankful I am to have gone through the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Let me explain.

I’ve lived through both enduring and bearing witness to a lot of pain in my lifetime. For my own personal journey, I lived through receiving a phone call from my husband‘s best friend where he had to muster up the courage to spit out the words that my husband was dead beside him on the side of the river. I lived through the visceral sounds that came out of my body as I crumbled to the floor, trying to grasp the concept of what that meant. I lived through having to get on a plane so I could walk into a funeral home just to grasp his hands and kiss his lips, one last time. I didn’t think I would survive the magnitude of that pain. I thought that pain would take me too, and then at least I would get to go be with him once again.

The pain I have witnessed others suffer, is worth pages of my thoughts as well. But, for now, I hold those images and people close to my heart and bear witness and hold space for what they have, and will continue to go through.

Trying to figure out what all of this pain really means, I’ve gone through a lot of active processing. Worked through the pain that I thought would whisk me away, if I let it. Through all of the processing and sitting in extreme grief, one thing that I have found, that seems counterintuitive and perhaps even somehow beautifully cruel, is that I’m quietly grateful to have gone through the worst thing that has ever happened in my life.

When I experience pure joy, the kind of joy that seems to overtake my essence and fill me with laughter and peace and thankfulness… I think about how much of a gift it is just to exist. In these moments I can then see joy in everything. I see it with my dog Winston, when he looks at me like I hung the moon. I see it when I plant my feet on this earth and feel the sunshine hit my face. I see it when I watch people excitedly reunite in an embrace at the airport, tears streaming down their faces as they get to physically touch those that they love once again. I see it when I bear witness to two lovers connecting through deep conversations, or the simplest of holding hands. I see it when I go on a run and at the end of it I feel my body awaken with not only aches and pains, but endorphins that race through my veins, reminding me just how fully alive I am in the vast existence of it all.

It is through all of these moments that I give myself space to feel gratitude for experiencing the worst thing that has ever happened to me. The thing I wish that never happened to me. The thing I thought I wouldn’t live through. The thing that caused such visceral pain and broke my heart in half. Because, had I not experienced that level of sorrow, I don’t know that I ever would have fully understood the depths of joy and meaning that also exists during our time here on earth. Before that thing happened, sure I knew joy, but I don’t think I truly lived into it. I didn’t fully grasp just how precious time is and that existing in physical form, in all its tangible beauty, is meant to be both fleeting as well as truly and deeply lived. That is what it means to be human. Authentic, deep connection with both life and other people is the very essence of our humanity and in itself, pure joy.

We are meant to learn and grow through both the joy and the sorrow, we can’t have one without the other. We don’t get to only experience joy and choose not to have to experience the pain of sorrow. Experiencing grief reminds us that showing up and being authentically present to this life and those we love, will bring us both the greatest joy, as well as the greatest sorrow. The commitment to both showing up and staying open, to both joy and sorrow in equal measure, is key. Staying open with the intentional knowledge that everything is fleeting and joy will also one day become sorrow, will change us to the core. This commitment will change who we are as individuals, into warriors acutely aware of our own strength and purpose on this earth. If we start by at least dabbling, and then purposefully diving head first into both fully experiencing joy as well as facing the great unknown of sorrow, we will slowly learn that we don’t have to be scared of the worst thing that could ever happen to us. We don’t have to be scared because we can trust ourselves to handle it when it comes. We have the strength and courage needed to face the sorrow, because we have also experienced the joy, and courage stems from experiencing joy. We can trust the fact that we will be there when called upon, and until then, we can fully live into the joyful moments that surround us. For I wouldn’t trade the moments I had, even if I knew the moments I would have to face when they were gone.

Now, to end these thoughts for now, I want to say this. Don’t get me wrong, I would give back this understanding and thankfulness in a heartbeat if it meant I could have my love standing by my side once again. I wish, every day, that it didn’t happen and that he was with me and we were figuring out this life together. And yet, because I don’t get to choose the worst thing that ever happened to me, I am thankful I now know just how precious it is to truly show up and fully exist, embracing both the sorrow and the joy for every moment is worth it. For that knowledge, I am forever thankful.

xo

M