I remember in my seventh grade science class we learned how fast our nervous system relays pain signals. The instant we touch a hot stove is the instant we pull back. Our bodies are hard-wired to avoid pain. We strive to survive.
But what if we flipped that upside down and consciously chose to stay in our pain? Not the sizzling-flesh kind, but the kind that tears open your heart, pours salt water all over it, and then grabs the whole lot of it and throws it to the wind.
What would happen if we sat with our heartache instead of pulling back and pulling away?
What if we took just a moment to breathe, remember, question, and listen?
Pain speaks, and when we allow ourselves to listen, the sacred lessons we learn in grief become invaluable. We remember who we were. We understand who we are. And we learn who we will be.
A common thread among widowed people is the notion that our next partner will get a better version of ourselves than our late spouse ever did. It’s a hard-won gift.
We learn to never let “I love you” go unsaid. We learn to let the little things go. We learn to give grace. We listen more and talk less. We reach out a loving hand and swoop in for yet another kiss. We love more deeply and authentically not only because we know life is brief, but because we have learned what is truly important.
And it’s him. Or her.
Not this or that.
It’s the person with whom you share a cup of coffee, a conversation, an embrace.
It’s the realization that the best gift you could ever give to another is making them feel like they are the most important person in the world to you. Because, at that moment, they are.
It’s difficult, to sit with your pain. To close your eyes and choose to stay.
But once you open your eyes, take a look in the mirror, you’ll see a more beautiful you than you ever could have imagined. đź’™