Grief: Part 3
Turning towards the hurt.
So much of what I offer my clients, is a container and guidance in the form of reassuring, loving presence and attunement so that they may CHOOSE to turn towards the hurt— and that means opening yourself to feeling it.
One time, this year during my own therapy session, I just finished spending about half the session crying when my therapist asked me why I waited until our appointment to let myself cry. I was so confused by that question. Was I supposed to be able to handle this much grief and pain on my own?
I’ve learned something… no. None of us are here to endure pain alone. There is nothing to prove in managing, and working with your pain independently. It doesn’t prove strength. It doesn’t buy admiration, nor earn respect. It isn’t loving towards others nor towards yourself. We are wired for connection. Connection amplifies pleasure, love, joy, relief, gratitude, AS WELL AS rage, confusion, hurt, fear, grief. It is the connection that provides much of the healing. We have been hurt in relationship, and it is in relationship that we can find healing.
This year I needed to grieve openly and with others. It has helped me move really big energies in my body. I’ve learned more about pain and loss, enough to know that I don’t even know all of the pain and loss there is. It has helped me see more of what other’s quietly carry, and why they carry it quietly.
Is it safe here to show how much I am hurting? Will there be connection through it and in it? Can I trust you to hold me as I show you my hurting?
Yes. Yes I am here for your hurting and my hurting. You don’t have to hide it away deep inside and pretend it isn’t there. You do have a right to your hurting. Your hurting doesn’t need to be minimized, gaslit, dismissed, shamed, swallowed.
In fact, loving the hurt is what gives it space. Seeing the hurt and validating it’s presence gives it voice. And reminding it that it gets to be here too without anyone’s agenda allows it to move in and through our bodies.
A Love Note To My Body:
It’s been a year since he died. And it’s been many many years since he abandoned you. I see you. I know what you have been working on. I know why you grind your teeth at night. Why your tummy feels so tender. I know. I get it. And it makes so much sense. You’ve been grieving this loss for a lonnnggg time— even before other’s could see it and name it. And what’s worst, you were left alone with this grief in childhood. You took it in to mean there was no space for you in this world. That must have really really hurt. That must have hurt so very badly. Thanks to your resiliency, you’re here now. And the only way through is with loving yourself— you know this. So take some time off of working. Take time off of doing things. Take time off of moving through the world as if this isn’t painful and also a lot of work. Take time off of caring for others and pour into yourself. Pour into your body and your spirit. Massage the muscles that have been straining and quench your thirst. Feel the loss, anger, confusion, disgust, disappointment, grief, exhaustion. I will be here with you as you feel it. I will make space for it. I will validate it. I will love all these little parts of you and remind you how loved you are. I will prove to you that it is safe to turn towards the hurt.
I love you. I’m sorry you’re hurting. And I’m proud of you for feeling it. I’ve got you and I’ve got us. The people who love you have you too. — G