After my son Lachlan died, a lot changed within me. The sense of grief overwhelmed, but also other aspects moved me positively towards re-assessing what I believed about love and life.
For a start, I hurt in a way I can best describe in poetry, not explanation……
Burnt black
Speak gently into my heart-wound,
Where my brittleness shows
As a black carbon candle wick.
Blown out.
Cold.
What was once a source of light and joy
Is now bent over,
Blackened,
In anguish.
Ignite me, Lord.
I prefer the flame’s pain
To emptiness:
Let me draw life-oil
From those close to me
And burn.
Now after years I can see things in a different light. Yes I still grieve, and yet I have confidence that Lachlan’s spirit continues to flourish. You probably recognise the ying yang symbol… Amongst other things it reflects the fact that dark and light are part of the whole. I accept that now.
However I also accept that it is a real struggle (there is no bling in the dark night of the soul).
But what I have found there is peace, a peace of reality and acceptance now.
Dr Darren Weissman says in his book on The Power of Infinite Love and Gratitude – “Symptoms are a gift. Pain is a gift. They are the body’s way of saying that it is time to heal whatever emotions you’ve internalised, denied or disconnected from.”
Am touched, as always, by your soul’s journey — and the memory of that painful, painful loss of Lachlan. Am intrigued that the photo of the candle shows the ‘black carbon wick’ at its centre: alight, being consumed, giving light.
As Lachlan’s spirit continues, so too a myriad of painful losses and loves remembered can purify our longings now.
In a different way, we have grieved and risen through the sharings of those from South Sudan and Egypt and Burma at this dialogue on democracy 10 days ago.
Ever Mike
Thanks Mike,
I admire your resilience and hope one day i can be involved in the peace dialogues with you.
🙂
Philosofree