Happy New Year's eve to everyone out there. I have a few inspirations for the year ahead, most of them revolve around seeing things, people and experiences differently. I have challenged myself to have a show...a show of my photos, work and even writings, in collaboration with Shane's art. I have challenged myself to let go of being different, of being more, of being better. I have challenged myself to just "let go" this year. Throwing away the subtle aggression of trying to sculpt myself into something acceptable and just find the beauty in what I am and perhaps to shut up and listen to the life in and around me. Yep, those are my intentions.
Grief is defined as a deep or intense sorrow. I have been thinking a lot about grief, about it's wide and sticky reach, about the watery quality of it's absorption and the agonizing effort of swimming to shore. Intense sorrow happens. It is a part of life. Yet we press against it. We try to eradicate it. How? We encapsulate our grief in a story, thus effectively removing us from the immediacy of the pain. The mind promises salvation and begins to tell a story, over and over and over. We listen to the inner ramblings, the constant diatribe, the neurotic attempt to avoid the experience. When someone is hurting we listen to their story, we talk about it, we recount our own story, but we certainly don't jump in the waters of sadness, instead we sit on the bank of our familiar longing. Once, when I was floundering in deep grief, my youngest brother knelt next to me and held me for over an hour. He didn't speak. He didn't commiserate. He just jumped in the
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