We Lose More than the Person We Love


Often, we don’t realize we’re losing it until we have. In the midst of turmoil, loss and grief, we lose more than the person we love.

You lose everything about that part of you that freely gave. And so many parts of him: the shoulder where you melted, the lips you kissed to taste life, the eyes which switched on your internal light and fed you a better reality than you can imagine today.

The guy who losses his business or wife loses his pride, confidence and security. It changes the way he walks, shakes hands, even how he orders a beer. Timidity sneaks in.

When a woman loses her love, she loses her story, identity and sensuality. Her soft side hardens. Her walls of protection crumble and she stands vulnerable.

I’ve lost a few things—I mean besides my job, marriage, home, and oh yeah, the greatest man I’ve ever known. I lost my mind that protected me and told me, finally, everything’s going to be ok. The mindset that said life is fair or unfair, fucked up or not worth living slipped away in the night.

I lost my ability to be ungrateful or bitter, along with my patience (if I ever had any) for trivia or drama. Gone is my judgement for how others live their lives (well, mostly). I’ve given up my craving for attention or outside direction and faced the fact there will be no intervention.

I’ve taken on an eagerness for another’s story, a presence in moments unfolding before me. I’ve learned the value of walks in the woods and talks with angels.

In spite of all I’ve lost, I’ve come to own myself. It’s quite a gift once you allow yourself to feel it—to own your power, accept grace and the divine opportunity to pay it forward. Heck, it’s a little bit like magic.

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