Dark, murky, lonely, hopeless, disconnected from God/Spirit/Light, I feel heavy and helpless like I’m drowning and it takes too much effort to swim to the surface. I sink further and further, into the darkness, into despair. Perhaps I will just stay in the darkness, underwater, where it is peaceful and calm. Where I can be still and my heart can rest and heal from this recent early miscarriage.

I muster the courage and strength to do this writing. I know in my heart, I am not alone. I can reach out to a friend who is familiar with loss. I begin to feel lighter the more I write and am present with my experience. Perhaps I needed to allow myself to go into the darkness, and fully immerse myself with it, before I could begin to rise up into the light.

As I write, I see the yellow rose on my altar, the pedals fully open, extended, reaching up. I see hope in its unfolding. I hope for hope. I don’t want to remain bitter because one of my most cherished dreams continues to go unrealized.

Then I feel it…a spark in my heart, a small flame is lit. There is light! There is hope! There is hope that I will always find hope even if I continue to create my own suffering and despair. Is it not the human condition to hold onto and attempt to control the circumstances of our lives that are out of our control? The Spirit is free. It lets go. It doesn’t want or need anything and is whole in itself. The human – always wants, needs, strives. We even strive to be free like the Buddha or Christ. We strive to be enlightened and to remember who we really are, to stay awake.

I am tired of striving, yet, I accept it as part of my human nature. Can I go beyond acceptance to Love, with all of my frailties and weaknesses, with all of my striving and holding on? Can I learn to love and embrace myself – ALL of me?

I close my eyes to meditate and all of a sudden, I feel gratitude well up in my heart. No longer in despair, my writing has saved me this morning. I feel my Spirit rising up and out of the ashes of grief. Beautiful, strong, vibrant and alive! Like the Phoenix rising, a re-birth of sorts. As I am re-born, I can return my focus to helping others through the darkness into the light.

It takes courage to allow our painful feelings to surface and then to actually experience them, feeling their darkness and being with them until they actually heal and turn to love and light. When I allow myself into my grieving place, this is the process that can happen.