Deep Like a Canyon, Broad Like the Sky

For a while now, I have been thinking about the concept of grief (or sorrow, anguish, agony, despair, pain… take your pick) & the idea that any of these emotions have an expiration date.

I mean, wouldn’t it be marvelous if we knew, “K, I know what I’m going through is really sh*tty, but it’s only going to last until December 13th. I can do this.” Alas, that is, of course, not how grief works.

So why are people so often treated with this expectation? Why do others attempt to limit a person’s grief?

Trauma is like a canyon. It is wide, and it is deep. And filling it with expectations and limitations does not help anyone climb out of the canyon.

When I started this blog, some were perplexed about my reasons why. They thought I should be over it once the investigation closed, telling me that it was time to let it go.

What a ridiculous notion.

Talking about an experience does not mean the experience has not been processed, and talking about the pain of an experience does not mean the pain is still present. And I would say that in 99% of scenarios, self-disclosing an experience stems from an innate desire to help others who are going through something similar. Trauma often isolates an individual, but knowing that someone has walked a similar path helps break the isolation.

But it does take time to get there. Along the way, there will be people who feel uncomfortable with (and even inconvenienced by) your emotions. Pay no attention to them. Instead, give attention to your emotions. There is transformative power in allowing yourself to feel the true depth of your pain, grief, loss, fear. It’s hard in the moment, of course, but each time you do, it’s like a piece of that emotion falls into the chasm. And slowly, you are unburdened by the heaviness of those emotions.

It’s like an EMDR session I once had, except instead of being in the depths of a canyon, the image that came into my mind was me in the depth of the ocean, desperately pushing towards the surface, feeling that at any moment I would expire. And then I surfaced. I felt relief as I took in deep breaths of air, but it was momentary, for then I realized the long swim that lay ahead. Stroke after stroke, I persisted, until finally I collapsed on the shore. After a moment, I lifted myself and turned back towards the ocean. Suddenly, the intense emotions lifted, because in that moment, I saw just how far I had come. All that I had endured. The previous emotions were replaced by feelings of empowerment. I could overcome anything.

I sat on the shore and looked up at the sky. My EMDR visualizations almost always end with me looking at the sky. It is my symbol of hope— broad and limitless.

It’s okay if you’re currently in the canyon of your grief, but make it your goal to push upward to the canyon rim. There’s no timeline to your progress. And remember, there is hope all around you… just look at the sky above.