I love grief, not in some weird ‘I like to be sad and melancholic’ kind of way, but more out of curiosity. Most of what I have gone through and experienced I’ve come to understand in the context of grief because it’s how we can relate to and integrate the pieces of our lives together.
In a recent thread, I wrote about grief, someone responded by sending me this message: ‘I used to believe that humans are mostly good – generally good – that at our core, there is goodness there. And now I don’t know if I don’t believe that anymore, and that kind of makes me feel so grief-ful.’
As I read, I scrunched my lips in the way you usually will when you don’t want to agree but don’t know how to not agree.
I read and re-read the message, thinking about what I’d say, but I hit a blank every time. Then I got to thinking about how disillusionment and constantly questioning the inherent goodness of humanity is a heavy burden to carry. It’s a feeling that many of us have struggled with at some point in our lives, especially when we’re in the middle of a messy season. Grief has a way of stripping away the layers of illusion and forcing us to confront the raw truth of our existence; it shines a harsh light on the imperfections and complexities of being alive, but remember that it’s natural to feel overwhelmed and disheartened by the weight of it all—that is what makes living so inherently ‘grief-ful.’
There’s so much loss, disappointment, and the struggle to make sense of our place in the world. Our experiences are rife and layered with joy and beauty, but are also punctuated by pain and suffering. It’s a delicate balance that we all need to learn to navigate, and it’s no wonder that some of us may feel a sense of despair in the face of it all. Still, though, I refuse to believe that there is nothing good to fight for. I refuse to believe that we aren’t collectively trying to imagine, create, and demand a better world and a better way. We have been doing that since the beginning, since the day the word ‘enough’ was invented.
Grief may lay bare the harsh realities of life, but it also has the power to ignite within us a sense of purpose and determination. It reminds us of the preciousness of life and the importance of fighting for what is right and good, and true. We can make grand gestures of care and also show care by listening to each other’s stories, by holding out a napkin when eyes get misty affirming when something resonates, and asking how else we can show up for one another.
So, to you, my reader who messaged me: I understand your grief, and I share in it, but I also hold onto hope and the belief that, despite it all, there is still goodness to be found in the world. And it’s worth fighting for.
My plate has been as full as I like it to be, and I have been working on some exciting new offerings for you. If you have been following me on social media, you’d know that my new book, Bittersweet: Embracing Grace In Life’s Messy In-betweens, is launching soon and that pre-orders are up and running, so if you’d like to get your hands on a signed copy click HERE to get the details for your personalised copy.
Annnnddd… get this, I’ve been searching for ways to offer more insight and wisdom to our community. With Dear Jess, you’ll have the opportunity to send me all of your burning questions about faith, well-being, and life in general. You could be struggling with a difficult decision, looking for guidance on something that’s been on your heart, or simply just looking for a kind and encouraging word; I’m here to help you because we are in this together and sharing these experiences and supporting one another will make us feel less alone as we go through these life transitions. Click on THIS LINK to start sending out your questions!
Remember to hold yourself kindly as you go through these days. Keep breathing. Keep Going. I hope that you look at these days ahead of you with a burning sense of curiosity, a yearning for all the beautiful things and a satisfactory feeling of “I love all of this!”