I've been hearing all kinds of wise talk these days as I seek the counsel of people who love me. Yesterday, after twisting needles into parts of me that were clearly storing an inordinate amount of anguish, Dr. Jin spoke about Chinese armies who fight one another. The side that doesn't want to fight or who is fighting out of integrity and truth against evil wins, she said in so many heavily accented words. Regardless of outcome. This felt strangely reassuring.
Today I was told by one of Sophie's caregivers that when you can't stop crying, you haven't cried enough.
What incredibly wise advice from both of those women!
ReplyDeleteI especially find the bit about crying to be so beautiful. Cry until you HAVE cried enough.
How I wish I had a magic wand to make things right, to restore justice, peace, and a sense of rightness in your life and your heart. I don't. And I don't have any wisdom. All I have are the words- I love you.
And I do.
Sometimes after giving in to a cry snd letting it do what it requires of me, when it’s over I feel so weak from it but so much stronger. I can’t rationalize that, it just is.
ReplyDeleteWhat wise words. Thank you for sharing them, Elizabeth.
ReplyDeleteI fear it's a bottomless well. Will it ever end?
ReplyDeleteI found the remedy ignatia helped a bit for grief, it didn't fix it but it made it feel manageable.
It's true, though, about not fighting it. Just get lots of balmy tissues. xxx
Oops. This is Jo :)
ReplyDeleteWise words indeed. Apparently I'm not done crying yet:)
ReplyDeleteMy question is when will it be enough. We never seem to know the answer to that. I miss you, Elizabeth. And I wish an end to your tears.
ReplyDeleteI remember after my divorce, in those first ugly violent months (and years) when I was alone and it was better (I wasn’t married) but it was also so much worse, I couldn’t stop crying. I think it was partially because, during those long years we were married, I had learned to feel nothing, or trick myself into thinking I felt nothing. I almost never cried. For decades. And then: a floodgate. I distinctly remember one late afternoon prostrate on my bedroom floor feeling utterly out of control: I literally couldn’t stop crying even if my life had depended on it. But I also knew then that as sad and awful as it was, it was SOMETHING that I was feeling anything at all, even if all I could feel was awful. Even if I had never imagined such ugliness to be thrown my way. But it also meant that I was alive, and that was something even if it was small.
ReplyDeleteSending you love—may this be the light that is inside of you breaking out. May you have peace.
Gathering up this wisdom you so generously shared. Those hidden pockets of sorrow, may yours be emptied by compassionate hands and hearts. ❤️
ReplyDeleteThank you for these words and I am glad you have people and places where you can cry and are looked after.
ReplyDeleteI cry a lot. Always have. Alone and in public. My siblings call me cry baby to this day (Heulsuse in German). I never really did mind although they used it to mock me. I cry. I find it cleansing.
This is so very beautiful, and yet I know it is born of great pain. I'm sorry for what you're going through, my friend. I send so much love.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, Elizabeth. It's terrible, and it's deep pain and anguish. May loving arms hold you and gentle hands touch you, and help you ride this wave of sadness.
ReplyDeleteI too am so sorry, but I agree with the Caregiver's Words that if you can't stop crying you haven't cried enough. I do Hope you have a desirable outcome and I do feel that doing the right thing is always the way to go regardless of the outcome... I know you will always do the right thing Elizabeth.
ReplyDeleteI suppose crying can be cleansing, though it doesn't feel that way at the time. Stay strong, friend! We're all on your side!
ReplyDeleteWise words. Big hugs from across the Atlantic.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.