On the road to metamorphosis, every step counts. Those books you read on grief count. The prayers you prayed, walks you took, tears you shed, hugs you embraced, the contemplation, questioning, wishing the truth away, wasting days watching Law & Order or submerging yourself in Facebook—all part of the process.
It all counts. The phone calls you took and the ones you resisted. The words and prayers you let seep into your heart. The warmth you felt on that one sunny afternoon for one minute—a special step forward.
You can’t see it now. You feel stuck, frustrated, so done with not being done with this! I get it.
You’re not alone. You’re a work in progress. Part of your divine destiny is learning to process grief. You’ll always be learning and taking steps forward.
Some will seem miniscule. Moving your beloved’s picture from your bedside stand to your dresser will feel like divorcing the yesterday you love. You will crumble.
What was once little will become huge. What was once important will become meaningless.
Plans taken by the tornado of life don’t make one eager to plan more. You will.
You’ll make many plans in your head and carry out few—for now.
The good news is you’re still here. Even that may feel like another bad hand.
Question that. Find answers worthy. Or don’t. Just stay. Stay for the next act, next character, the next scene of your life.
Keep turning the page. You don’t have to learn the meaning of every word or sign, unless that helps.
Just know: every step counts. Play the music and dance when you can, even with tears. Let the laughter sneak out. When you need to, break glasses, throw eggs, or punch pillows.
Or, better yet, hold your anger and sadness like babies. Just hold them. That sitting with your feelings is a championship, albeit counterintuitive, move out of the depths.
Remember: it all counts. You can’t lose points or do it wrong. You won’t be punished for any of your moves.
Except getting drunk and falling on your face. You’ll pay for that.
But seriously, you’re growing and changing—like adolescence, pregnancy or menopause.
You’re giving birth to a new chapter in life. An old chapter is being ripped away. There will be pain.
You may be in the worst of it. On the road to metamorphosis, everything baby crawl counts. Just don’t count yourself out.
4 thoughts on “Every Step (in Grief) Counts.”
Alice, thank you for “Every Step…” Exquisite in its wisdom and beautiful writing.
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A very redemptive view of losses and recoveries, Alice! Powerful writing Alice! “Remember: it all counts. You can’t lose points or do it wrong” That is so insightful and redemptive! And it doesn’t stop being so when you’re 78 either! It all counts, oh boy!… Thankfully,
I’m both honored and humbled by this journey called grief. Just when I start to crack my inner whip to get moving and to do more despite not being sure what the hell that means. I am gratefully stopped and reminded to hang on when I read your blog. Thanks a lot for the reminder! Loved it, especially:
“The good news is you’re still here. Even that may feel like another bad hand.
Question that. Find answers worthy. Or don’t. Just stay. Stay for the next act, next character, the next scene of your life.”
Yes, Sharon. Grief is a journey we’d rather not embark on, but once we do, wow. Challenging like a college course that’s way harder and teaches one far more than imagined. Just when we think we’ve got it, the threshold shifts. But, we never know what great joy life might deliver us if we stay.