Maybe the only cure for grief is to grieve

I recently read a quote that said, "The only cure for grief is to grieve."

And I know that seems pretty obvious, but when you are in the self-conscious, messy, disorienting, challenging, anxiety-inducing center of nothingness that is grief, you often find yourself grasping for a lifeline and gasping for your next breath.

The circuitous path of grief and the loss of your imagined future can narrow your vision, annihilate your sense of self, and surgically remove hope from every aspect of your life.

And there's this gnawing feeling that you are supposed to do...something, and there is something wrong with you if you can't figure it out. As if all you need to do is crack some code, and the answers for moving out of grief and into something else will magically be yours.

If only you were smart enough, good enough, tried hard enough, and maybe even spent hours, days, weeks, and months perseverating on the past and wondering about the future that you thought was yours.

What if when we found ourselves in paralyzing seasons of grief, we behaved like a well-mannered host, meticulously arranging a place setting for everything that shows up in our lives and listening in earnest? In contrast, our grief cries at the dinner table, our failures ramble on and on, our indecision makes no sense, or our self-destructive behavior begins demanding more courses.

Lately, grief shows up on my doorstep almost every day, cheerfully asking, “What’s for dinner?”

If something in your life is causing you significant discomfort, grief, or shame, I want to remind you that welcoming it like a good host is not a permanent commitment. Maybe by welcoming some of these things, allowing them to speak, get a little rowdy, and stir up big feelings, we actually let out some of their steam.

And then, like a good host, we can show them to the door at the end of the night, deflated of their power, bellies full of being seen, heard, and understood, and then quietly clear the table, wash the dishes, turn the lights out and go to bed without them.

Maybe just do the next right thing.