A year ago, I was fortunate to hear poet Tracy K. Smith speak to a group and broach the topic of grief. She was our U.S. poet laureate in 2012, and authentically acknowledges collective grief and longing as a black woman. My heart leapt when I heard her share the phrase, “grief is one of the manifestations of love.” She went on to say that grief allows us access to the hearts of another person, and even to the presence of those who have transitioned beyond this life. She asked us to consider what surprises us in our grief, and what consoles us in our grief.
I think one thing that surprises me is how grief comes back up again and again, but always in a new way. The grief that I feel now is different from the grief that I felt in its inception. Though I may wish it , grief never drifts completely off to sea. Yet Tracy K. Smith reminds us- the consolation is part of the power of grief, and becomes embedded in the experience of it. It is as if some cosmic force ties us to our grief like a compress to a wound. To have known and embraced the grief offers a true opportunity for transformation. I am surprised at what old grief has to say to me all these many years later, and how it has charted a course in how I live my life today.
One time long ago, while hiking a section of the Camino de Santiago in Spain, there was a fellow traveler who saw my recent grief. I could see in his kind, black eyes that he knew and understood. He helped me through a difficult section of the walk, one that was muddy and steep and frustrating. His hand was strong, and pulled me up from a steep ravine. When we departed, he gave me a geode from his home country of Brazil. I had that geode for many years as a talisman and a prayer object, and it reminded me that kindness has a place in transforming grief. The green sparkle and jagged edge was proof to me that my own grief mattered, was prominent, and deserved attention.
That geode accompanied me through many different moves, through the birth of my daughter and the adoption of my other daughter. Somewhere along the way the geode got lost to me. To this day, I still feel like I will find it when I clean out a random drawer or cluttered closet. It must be out there somewhere, but I have no idea where! At times, I envision the geode radiating out healing and transformation. I will never forget that geode or the giver of that gift, and count them as a piece of my own healing.
This fall, after 27 years- Eric and I are hoping to complete the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Since so many years have passed in that time, I have a new interpretation of grief and also new griefs and new joys to process. I wonder what the rhythm of my steps will be during this walk. There are many opportunities to celebrate the consolations in my grief, and the healing way that grief connects me to my own heart and the hearts of others.
Gratitude to Katriona McCarthy for the visual image of a geode.
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