How terrible it is.
How resolute we fight it.
And rightly so, for not all loss is meant to be.
But some loss, we cannot avoid.
Even despite our most earnest attempts, it finds us, takes from us & leaves us with the void.
The empty space.
Which is always space that could be filled again.
But today I wonder if we were really designed for the insufferable rhythm of loss and gain and loss again to which we live subjected?
I wonder if we truly have it, somewhere in us, to live with it?
To be resilient?
I wonder if, in some subconscious way, we do not eventually just give ourselves to loss, when we give up the people with whom we’ve spent decades or walk away from friendships which were once precious or bleed ourselves into oblivion, our empty corps a better prospect than being subjected to yet another cycle of attachment which will be violently ripped from our heart and soul?
Perhaps, along The Way of the Gift, there might be some grace?
Maybe there could be respite?
The alternative solution is bliss from autosugestive ignorance.
Which always needs the assistance of a substance wich could numb.
Or a destructive habit, which could provide diversion.
Sorrowful is life in all of its splendour.
For if we love, we will be lost.
And if we don’t, we do not live.