I followed Victoria to this post of yours. As part of a support group for military survivors, I realized that the requirement for a peer mentor to be at least a year out in their grief journey was so important. I felt so drawn to assisting others, yet being a year and a half out I knew instinctively I was not in the correct space yet to do so. You so clearly stated my problem “I tell my chaplaincy students, this is the crux of why we explore their own pain, so they can more fully sit with others in their pain. Cave has explored his own pain and is now able to sit with others in theirs.”
I can’t wait to read more from you. As always, I regret anyone has to walk along this pathway and am learning as I do.
Thanks for finding your way here from Victoria! It sounds like you are very familiar with singing the song of grief. It does take patience and great self-awareness to know when we are not quite ready. I've heard others say we need to wait until our wound has scarred instead of being in a place when we are still bleeding ourselves. It sounds like you are honoring your grief, while still looking toward the day when you can help others with theirs. Blessings on you as you walk this pathway, it is not easy and you are not alone.
I followed a note to this older post of your this morning, and I found this beautiful passage, among others: “I wanted to sit in that moment for much longer. The silent darkness is where I sit with others daily. It feels sacred. So much is contained in those moments. Truly, we cannot catapult to healing without spending sufficient time in that darkened theater of despair.” Thank you.
Thanks Amy, for following the note and finding your way here! Sometimes things that we write months ago, still feel fresh and applicable as we lean further into our lives and all that they entail.
I like to dig for gems in writer's archives and I found this! Thank you, Christine. As someone who has music interwoven in my DNA this struck a deep chord.
THIS: 'How has grief changed you? How have you rebuilt yourself? How do you metabolize and process grief? Cave and Etheridge were able to do so musically, which might be an option for you too.'
How have I metabolised grief is a brilliant question and prompt because there are metabolites and —dare I say it—some nutrients that have FED me to be me now. Who knows if the fire-fuelling Carer Mentor would be so fierce without it?
And I have playlists as the soundtrack for it all, including the dark heavy bass rock, or the soulful ballads, or strains of the violin... I have a wide appreciation of different music to accompany the amplitude and diversity of life experiences..
Oh I'm so tickled that you found this, as it was my first real post on substack! I love that you have different playlists for your grief and life experiences. There is something so visceral about our ability to connect to music and the release it can give us. Also, on the topic of crying, I bet some people can cry when listening to certain songs that evoke strong memories for them!
How very true 💜
I followed Victoria to this post of yours. As part of a support group for military survivors, I realized that the requirement for a peer mentor to be at least a year out in their grief journey was so important. I felt so drawn to assisting others, yet being a year and a half out I knew instinctively I was not in the correct space yet to do so. You so clearly stated my problem “I tell my chaplaincy students, this is the crux of why we explore their own pain, so they can more fully sit with others in their pain. Cave has explored his own pain and is now able to sit with others in theirs.”
I can’t wait to read more from you. As always, I regret anyone has to walk along this pathway and am learning as I do.
Thanks for finding your way here from Victoria! It sounds like you are very familiar with singing the song of grief. It does take patience and great self-awareness to know when we are not quite ready. I've heard others say we need to wait until our wound has scarred instead of being in a place when we are still bleeding ourselves. It sounds like you are honoring your grief, while still looking toward the day when you can help others with theirs. Blessings on you as you walk this pathway, it is not easy and you are not alone.
I followed a note to this older post of your this morning, and I found this beautiful passage, among others: “I wanted to sit in that moment for much longer. The silent darkness is where I sit with others daily. It feels sacred. So much is contained in those moments. Truly, we cannot catapult to healing without spending sufficient time in that darkened theater of despair.” Thank you.
Thanks Amy, for following the note and finding your way here! Sometimes things that we write months ago, still feel fresh and applicable as we lean further into our lives and all that they entail.
I like to dig for gems in writer's archives and I found this! Thank you, Christine. As someone who has music interwoven in my DNA this struck a deep chord.
THIS: 'How has grief changed you? How have you rebuilt yourself? How do you metabolize and process grief? Cave and Etheridge were able to do so musically, which might be an option for you too.'
How have I metabolised grief is a brilliant question and prompt because there are metabolites and —dare I say it—some nutrients that have FED me to be me now. Who knows if the fire-fuelling Carer Mentor would be so fierce without it?
And I have playlists as the soundtrack for it all, including the dark heavy bass rock, or the soulful ballads, or strains of the violin... I have a wide appreciation of different music to accompany the amplitude and diversity of life experiences..
Oh I'm so tickled that you found this, as it was my first real post on substack! I love that you have different playlists for your grief and life experiences. There is something so visceral about our ability to connect to music and the release it can give us. Also, on the topic of crying, I bet some people can cry when listening to certain songs that evoke strong memories for them!
Yep, it's one of my 'cry-stimul-i' ;-)
Thank you for your words and your care for grieving. Looking forward to reading more!
🥰