Loss and the Living
I don’t understand why some lives are lost so soon, to this world.
I try to practice radical acceptance, that it is an inevitable part of the human experience.
Doing my best not to assign their passing to be some cryptic indication of “bad” or good”.
But what is more human, than to seek meaning,
Or find lessons, in their departure?
Witnessing the end to their lives,
Can become a perspective shift to how we view our own Earthly existence.
A failed marriage,
Becomes gratitude for the experience of not one,
But two weddings,
An experience many of my friends didn’t get to have.
A disabled, childhood best friend, lost to heart failure,
Becomes the inspiration to be a better ally,
My first writing muse, about loss,
A teacher of the importance of quality time,
The knowing that love can transcend verbal communication,
The awakening of the fragility of life and the relationships around us.
A step-father lost to brain cancer,
Becomes the next era of parentification,
A season of numbing, anger, disbelief, and rebellion,
Teenage angst, times one million.
A first dog,
Lost in the wake of two other devastating losses,
Becomes a deeper well into music,
And opens a door for the next dog to walk into our lives.
A friend stolen by gun violence,
Becomes inspiration to take control of my future,
To let go of relationships no longer serving me,
To find new communities of safety, in their wake.
Friends from adolescence,
Lost to the internal wars with their mental health,
Become consistent reminders to prioritize therapy and self care,
Caution signs against substance use and abuse,
Art mentors, from the other side,
Moments of daily pause in remembrance of their friendship.
Striving photographers,
Cut short, while chasing their dreams,
Reminding me that I’m already living mine,
To keep going even on hard days,
To keep the dream alive,
To hold the torch, for those no longer here to do so.
One of the most beautiful souls, inside and out,
Cheering me on through dark days, with her inspiring quotes,
Making me laugh, as I remember the t-shirts she wore and the memes she shared,
Reminding me to be kind,
As she was always so warm and welcoming to me,
And everyone around her.
But most of all,
Their loss reminds me to live,
To love,
Imperfectly,
Outloud,
To utilize my gifts,
To share my truths.
As much as we’d like to naively hope that we’re in the driver’s seat,
As if we have any sort of control,
We’re at the whim of the Universe,
Flying through space,
On a rock,
In meat suits,
That somehow keep us alive?
Our daily existence is nothing short of miraculous.
As my friend Jen once said,
“I am a fucking miracle!”
So?
Fuck it.
Do the things that bring you one step closer to your greatest desires,
Make the art,
Ask the person out,
Show up imperfectly,
Unready,
Quit the job you hate,
Be vulnerable.
Let go of the fear that has kept you small.
In a world of infinite possibilities,
Choose the paths that bring you the most joy.
“But, what if?!”
WHAT IF… everything goes even better than you could have ever imagined?
We all end up dead in the end,
Might as well make it a good story.
