The world was moving… (day 1)

and she was right there with it (and she was).

The world is a shockingly cruel place. I grew up with that, a poverty among a large part of the population that seems to permeate the walls, a father that, along with his friends ritually and habitually killed bulls, earthquakes, mudslides, riots, threats of kidnapping… to name just a few.

The crazy thing was that in spite of all this harsh brutal reality there was an ability to see the world for a magical place. It is that kind of place that inspired writers and artists like Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Frida Kahlo,

So, I am not sure where I lost the internalized potion of this influence.  But, lost it I did.

I found it again, in a simple post that talked about the importance of grieving.

Grieving is not pretty, it can be dark and stormy, a swirling mass of emotions.  It is, however, a part of “the process”.

So when considered in that light, grief can become glorious… except that glorious is too strong a word.

Grief however, was the thing that was hard coming to recently. It became lost in platitudes like “you are so lucky”, “you will come through this a better person”, and “life is tough, get a grip”.

Grief is a very natural by-product of life. Hold it closely, don’t fight it. Don’t ignore it.

 

Grief is like a moving river, so that’s what I mean by it’s always changing. It’s a strange thing to say because I’m at heart an optimistic person, but I would say in some ways it just gets worse. 
~ Michelle Williams   
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