A breathtaking poem, given to me by a co-worker

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By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me
what you for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting
your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me
how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk
looking like a fool for love,
for your dreams,
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me
what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched
the center of your own sorrow
if you been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and
closed from fear of further pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain,
mine or your own,
without moving to hide it
of fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy,
mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness
and let ecstasy fill
you to the tips of your fingers
and toes without cautioning us
to be careful, be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me
if the story you're telling me is true.
I want to know if you can be true to yourself,
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can see beauty
even when it is not pretty every day,
 and if you can source your life from God's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the
silver of the moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to
know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night or grief
and despair, weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done.

It doesn't interest me who you are,
how you came to be here,
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with
me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where
or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains
you from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like
the company you keep in the empty moments.



-There is such power in these words, power to wake me from my daily slumber and to be present-present to myself, to my grief, as well as to others.  May we all like the company we keep, in the empty moments of our days...

It Doesn't matter how old you are...

...most people will never be ready to lose a parent.  I read article about how one grieving Millenial encountered other generations in the workplace after her mother;s death.  You can find  it here: How Millenials Mourn. It is a great, brave, and honest piece and I would recommend reading it if you get the chance. There was one thing that I took issue with and that is the author, Emily, spoke about the frustration of encountering older co-workers sharing about the loss of their own parents- something that Emily had a hard time relating to. I can understand that- I used to think that as we got older, we became wiser, we became more emotionally mature and understood that loss was inevitable and that our parents would not live forever...But as I am older, at least older than I once was-aren't we all for that matter?, I am realizing that our bodies and faces might age and we might have more stories to tell ( if we can remember them all, and if not half stories to tell) that emotionally most of us stay as adolescents. Whether we love our parents, hate our parents, hold both feelings or fall somewhere along a spectrum between the two, we are never quite ready-whether we are 25, 28, 52, or 82...to let our parents go.  When I was in college, my beloved college President Jay Kessler, shared after the death of his mother "You are never old enough to lose a parent."  It is as true now as ever. Losing a parent will change your life forever-no matter how much life you have left to live.

Getting your grief right...

A great article about the true-unpredictable nature of grief:
Getting Grief Right

What would you ask for?

Musician and now Author, Amanda Palmer, came out with a book a few months ago, focusing on the topic of being able to ask, to ask for the thing that is really hard to ask another, whether it be for help, for respect, for a phone number, for a hug. Whatever it is,  for many of us, have difficulty in finding the courage and the freedom to ask. Asking is vulnerable...asking gives power to the one who is being asked, but as Amanda reminds us- there is power given to the asker-regardless of whether they receive the fulfillment of their request. That power-stems from being an authentic human being, not afraid of being vulnerable and in that way-the power is all theirs.

Finding that power in the midst of grief can be difficult, if not down right almost impossible. But only you know what you need this at time. Only you know if you need a hug, or space, or a nice meal, or someone to shield you from all the tuna casserole dishes and lasagna pans that may be coming through your doors. So if you could ask, whoever, whatever...what would you ask-what does your soul long for? What do you need to get back in touch with your own humanity?

Sole Survivor

Last week a seven year old girl in Kentucky became a part of a small "club" that no one wants to join-being the sole survivor of a plane crash. I chose not to write her name, so that she may have some chance of grieving and growing up in some privacy. A documentary film came out a few years ago by Ky Dickens and I had the honor of viewing it in Lexington, KY where I was living alongside the families of Flight 5191. Some families chose not to participate in the viewing, a decision I respect them for. Each person must find their own way in their journey of grief. For some this was tremendously helpful, for others traumatic. For me, the film shows the struggles of being cast into the spotlight, overwhelmed by external and internal expectations, and ultimately the need for human connection and understanding. It is both sensitive and educational, and specifically around Flight 5191 and the issue of blame-balanced in perspective.

Never the same

My friend, colleague, and supervisor, Donna Schuurman, wrote a book called Never the Same. I couldn't agree with her more. Once a person has entered our lives, they change it, and once a person leaves our life, in whatever way they exit be it death, divorce, or simply fading away, they change it as well. We are transformed by who and who isn't in our lives and that transformation is a constant, meaning we are continually be transformed by our losses. We will never be the same, nor will we be the person were heading to become, instead now we are on a different life course to be someone altogether new. Thus we must recognize that not only do we grieve the loss of our loved one, we also grieve the loss of ourselves-who we were and who were going to be -an perhaps that is just one of the hardest aspects of grief to acknowledge.

A season of giving

Sometimes it is still hard to believe that love, hope, joy, and goodness still exist in the world after we experienced the loss of a loved one. And that it is ok. It is ok to doubt-chances are that this death has caused us to question many things including who are we?, what does the future look like?, and can we every be happy again? These are legitimate questions to ask and we don't have to let anyone convince us otherwise. Did you know most existential philosophers experienced the death of a loved one early on in their lives? They asked the hard questions that seemingly don't have any answers.

However, we just might need to be careful who we ask those questions in front of. Not everyone can handle it. About 1/3 of the people in our lives won't be able to sit with us in our grief and will actually respond negatively to us. Another third won't have the time or the emotional capacity but won't intentionally hurt us. Maybe 1/3 or less will actually understand or try to understand what we are going through and will sit with us in the silence, the tears, and the questions. They won't try to make us feel better, they won't try to answer the questions. They will simply hold the space for us to ask and that is probably the greatest gift anyone can give to someone who is grieving.