Living in Two Worlds

“The trick, if there is one, is to maintain both: wonder and sadness, curiosity and grief. Joy and the absence of joy. Overcome by neither, open to both.” I’m using this quote from “Writing Your Grief” as a jumping-off point to write on melancholy because I’ve learned to live in a world of both/and. 

Grief has linked me to others suffering from loss, whether due to death or other circumstances. Before Mike died ten years ago, when I would hear about the death of many people due to a natural disaster, I couldn’t understand that each of those deaths was an individual life with loved ones whose lives were forever changed. Now I hear names, not numbers, and my heart goes out to them. At the same time, I want to hear other people’s joys and successes. The world does not revolve around me. I still want to engage in life.

Keeping my heart open when it is aching from the stitches that continue to be ripped open with each death can be challenging, but I know survival means allowing others to be a part of my life. The greatest act of bravery is the willingness to love in the face of loss. I look at friends who have endured a spouse’s death and are willing to open their hearts again. I still have not reached that stage, though I’m open if it happens.

Seeing the beauty in the world while grieving can sometimes be challenging, especially as I look at the world with a photographer’s eye. Yet, even when my heart isn’t in it, I can’t help but find the beauty surrounding me. I get caught up in the magnificence of the puffy white monsoon clouds, the colorful murals that cover the walls of buildings, the photographs that my friends take, or the bunny that continually scurries across the backyard.

“No matter how much my heart hurts, the world calls me, “We’re here for you and will wait until you are ready to return to us.” “No matter how much my heart hurts, the world calls me, “We’re here for you and will wait until you are ready to return to us.” 

Living between the “joy and absence of joy” can be a lonely, challenging journey. Having walked this journey ten years ago, I know it takes time for the two worlds to become one. For now, it’s allowing myself the grace to grieve and space to walk this new road.