High on Happiness

Posts Tagged ‘loss’

If trees were always green and the sky forever blue,

If no one ever sighed or cried a tear or two,

If gain had no loss, and up had no down,

If everyone smiled and no face wore a frown,

If all the world’s flowers were as red as a rose,

And ice cream never melted, water never froze,

If all of life’s contrasts were to disappear,

And days were the same year after year,

How boring life would be, how humdrum and flat.

But change is a constant; be grateful for that.

The spirits of the fallen ones rise free, softer than breath, etching on our minds the memory of their summer days.

Oh, how they danced then, so supple and alive, as green and shining as the breeze.   We thought they would go on forever, so joyous was their song.

Gazing at the emptiness of the spaces they once filled, we are bereft.  The world is not the same without them, nor will it be, ever again.

There’s nothing we would not give to look once more into their faces, to feel their bodies, warm beneath our fingertips.

But no, the spaces that were theirs are vacant now, except for this river of tears and the awful sharp taste of pain.   And how we cling to our anguish, for it’s all we have left, just this, to fill the unfillable spaces.

Yet, despite our pleas – Don’t take my pain!  It’s all that I have left! - eventually the last tear dries, leaving only the space and its ringing silence and the great green breeze that we would not trade for anything, so deep and precious is its song.

For the first time ever, the winds of war tore across the entire globe.  But on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918, the hostilities came to an end.

Twenty million people had died in the Great War’s battles.

Since then, we commemorate the day in remembrance of the lives lost in all wars.  And in our hearts we long for the day when love will rule and wars will be no more.

“Be the change you wish to see in the world,” said Gandhi.
Be the peace.  Be the joy.  Be the love.

I learned again this week that when difficult times come, being grounded in the depths of happiness matters more than ever.  Sadly, that reminder came when my sweet fur-kid, Bunny-the-Cat, was killed by a car when she wandered into the road in front of my house.

Don’t misunderstand me.  I was shaken and filled with waves and waves of sadness and grief.  “Oh, my poor kitty,” my heart cried; “I am so sorry.”

There was nothing happy about it.  Except that I was free to feel the depth of my sadness, and to know that it came from having so enjoyed Bunny’s presence in my life.  My heart ached at the loss of her.  And yet I was comforted by the knowing that the cause of my pain was the love I had been privileged to feel because of this little creature’s special companionship.

Authentic happiness isn’t a feeling that blots out every pain.  It doesn’t stop you from experiencing life’s arrows and misfortunes.  It doesn’t blind you to tragedy or injustice.  But it does help you through them.  It wraps itself around you to comfort you and give you perspective and to help you understand that your grief, your pain, your railing against life’s episodes of unfairness are appropriate responses.  It allows you to sink into them, without resistance or a need to be brave or to fight against them.  It tells you that these feelings are okay.  Night is night, and nightmares are nightmares, and yet the dawn will come.

Happiness assures you of that – of the dawn’s coming – because it has proven time and again that the darkness is a transitory illusion and that in the end, light will prevail.

Somewhere down the road, happiness tells me, I will think of Bunny and instead of pain, I will laugh, remembering her antics, and I will be warmed, thinking of her sweetness, and I will appreciate anew the seasons of companionship she gave me and be glad.

But for now, happiness tells me, it’s the right thing to do, to honor your grief.  It’s a sign that you didn’t take for granted all the joy this little creature brought to your life.  And, you must remember, that you brought to hers in return.