09/27/2021
Sometimes grief feels like a black hole.
Destructive, inescapable. Showing up usually when you’re least expecting it, like when you’re just out there, chillin’ in space, minding your own business… 🪐
We are pulled in whether we like it or not, with no idea of what is on the other side, or even if there is an “other side”, but we know for certain that we can’t possibly ever be the same again once we encounter it, and we can’t stop the pull.
And that’s when we start to feel really alone.
Unfortunately, most of the people teaching us about its intricacies and advising us on how to navigate our way through it have only observed this phenomena from afar, never riding this close to the center of the beast. What do they really know about it? When all I see is darkness chewing up and spitting out stars. Doesn’t look promising…⭐️
Black holes have the strongest gravitational pull in the known universe. Nothing can escape them, not even the light, which they gleefully gobble up- having the strength to warp everything with ease, bending time and space to their will. Pretty powerful stuff. ⚫️
But despite an apparent path of destruction, nothing destroyed within ever actually disappears, in fact, the center of a black hole contains all it consumed - condensed to the finest of points in an event known as *singularity*. ✨
Death leaves a void, yes, but grief isn’t an empty void. Like a black hole, grief contains the singularity of feeling and experience joining past, present, and future, condensed forever into the finest of points, in a place where time moves so slow we may believe it is standing still.
Be gentle with yourselves, friends 🌈🧡
~SCXO