love in the heart of grief



I've been having a tough week, physically and emotionally. 

It's tiredness (it felt like we all got another cold, and my asthma was kicking my behind) and PMS and fading autumn light SAD and then today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, which is tough. 

(I miss you. I miss you. I'm sorry you couldn't be here and I'm sorry you couldn't stay. May all our little ones be remembered and mourned and loved, who have gone too soon.)

So I needed a break and I took one - I decided to watch an old season of my favorite bad reality show, Survivor. Normally I'd read a book, but I needed more fluffiness and my wrists could use a break from my iPad. (My kindle is recharging.)

It isn't the end of the world to have a melancholy feeling. 

This is part of my cycle, this last week before I start my menses, I get sad. Weighed down by the weight of the world, I need to retreat. I need to let myself retreat. 

It's so easy, even after all these years of ebb and flow and watching the ebb and flow and knowing when the ebb is going to happen, it's still so easy to catastrophize. I catch myself in the middle of berating myself. I stop. Sometimes it takes a few times to stop. 

I can catch myself now. I couldn't before. I can stop. It gets easier. 

It doesn't end the melancholy. It doesn't end the hormonal fluctuation. It doesn't end the ebb and flow of living. 

And I don't need these to end. I just need gentleness and reminders and love for myself, the world and this process of being human. 

I breathe in and I breathe out. 

And the world spins. 

And the rain falls. 

And there's love. Love is the gentleness I need. Love is the reminder. 

This immense Love at the heart of my great grief for the world, for the ones who have gone and the ones who could not keep going. 

Love.