Loss of any kind is a harrowing experience and the gradual recovery from this shock is what we know as mourning.

I have come to realise that grieving is just like the moon – it is a cycle.

Returning emotions wax and wane again and again, just like the moon.

One of my favourite poems is "Invictus" and I created this painting with it in my mind.
I wanted to portray that at our core, we are invincible and will eventually emerge victorious after we have weathered the storms of life with our courage, strength, faith, and perseverance.

Invictus

(William Ernest Henley - 1849-1903)

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Grief is universal, and no one will leave this planet without having encountered it.

Through my own experiences, I observed that healing from loss is cyclical not linear.

And just as the Yin and Yang in Ancient Chinese philosophy flow into each other and create a whole circle; Life and Loss, are meant to flow within us.

Happiness and sadness, joy and grief, walk hand in hand throughout our lives.

This delicate dance between the Yin and Yang of our emotions is what keeps our hearts clean and our minds clear and in balance, thus helping us heal from loss and heartbreak.

When we experience a loss - whether it is the death of a loved one, a pet, a breakup/ divorce, the loss of a job, or a significant change in health - it reminds us, of how little control we really have in life.

Over others, over situations and sometimes, over ourselves.

The complete numbness which overcame me after I learned of the death of a loved one or experienced heart break, was like a thick fog, surrounding me wherever I went.

One minute I fell silent as if punched in the stomach with sadness and overcome with loud crying fits the next.

I felt a fraught, because on the outside I functioned, yet inside, I felt and was truly lost.

Grief is not just pure sadness.

The messiness of grief brings a variety of emotions which are often tangled up together, like uncombed hair.

As I waded through the myriad of my own, I realised I sank deeper, when I ruminated over and over the loss and neglected myself.

To find some balance, I set one goal each day:

Stumble out of bed,
Take a long hot shower,
Comb hair,
Sit with pain,
Cook/ eat,
Rest/ sleep,
Be in nature/ walk in park,
Pilates, Yoga, Jogging, Fencing (only when energy returned),
Read/ write/ watch films,
Sketch/ paint,
Practice piano,
Play with my cats.


Baby Steps...

One of the changes that hit really hard, was how quickly I lost belief in myself and others.
My world, as I had known it, was shattered like a mirror and I with it.
My strengths, my beliefs, my dreams.

I felt raw, fragile, cracked open and turned inside out.
All of my insecurities were laid bare for everyone to see and feast on.

Oversleeping in the morning or accidentally breaking a dinner plate led to floods of tears.
Attending events like weddings or parties turned into many last minute no shows - I simply could not face people, small talk or pretending everything was fine.

It is not uncommon to feel isolated or lonely in grief.

The five Stages of Grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance (as originally established by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross) are one of the most widely recognized models to understand Grief.

Yet, if I could, I would add another stage: Loneliness.

Because often when we reach "Acceptance”, Loneliness continues to linger long after our Loss.

When the reality of our changed world has set in, what are we to do with the deep Loneliness that remains?

Grief comes and goes.

Sometimes its like a huge tsunami threatening to overwhelm us with raging intensity, and at other times, like an invisible ripple on a calm and tranquil ocean.

If we don't work through grief, it stays and builds over time as we experience more losses in life, like the ocean is being filled by rain.

And the bigger our ocean of numbed grief flows within us, the heavier it weighs us down, preventing us to experience true joy in our lives.

But, we also have the moon!
He faithfully shines his light underneath the surface of our ocean and guides us until we find our way.

After we experience a loss, we often focus on what or whom we no longer have in our lives.
Most of the time, there just isn't the head-space to even think about giving thanks.

As a result, we only see what is missing, rather than remembering the many wonderful things which remain.

Being grateful for what we still have - for example all the memories, which we treasure forever - has the power to help us heal and learn from the loss.

And, perhaps most importantly; it can help us letting the past sleep peacefully eventually, whilst we gently move forward.

One tiny step at a time.

Through tests, we realise our own strength and what we are made of.

Grief and Heartbreak brought down my walls and allowed me to be myself.
I lost my fear when I had nothing else to lose.

With grief and healing came new insights and learned lessons:

I have more patience with others and no longer worry about the small stuff.

I learned to let things go and appreciate and accept people more deeply and just as they are.

I do the things I love.

I laugh and cry more often, leave my comfort zone more often and I love stronger, purer and deeper.

Life is too short, so let's go for it!

Accepting loss is not easy.

When we lose someone we love, it changes us.

One of the hardest things for me was to accept things had permanently changed and there was no going back.

Adjusting to being without the beloved one, was one of many transitions.
I felt powerless, paralyzed, hopeless and completely inadequate to deal with this change.

After repeating these cycles, which often left me exhausted, I understood there will never be a substitute for him or her.

I had to learn to live with it and finally accepted: the loss of someone we love deeply is a transition, not a disappearance.