Good Grief 104

Chumps ... and other things.
It has been a huge relief to have come through a bit of storm of a rift.
If I had a clearer sense of what happened it would form a Thinking Aloud series but it is all so jumbled I need to let it rest for now. Anyway it ended well with 'we're both a pair of chumps' which is a huge relief.
One of the things that is a persistent struggle is working out how to be in the world. When my husband was alive I didn't really have to think about it. There that was that wonderful thing of being wrapped in the wonderfulness of another, even through the really tough stuff ... particularly through the tough stuff.

I was reading about Frida Kahlo and her love for Diego Rivera and of love as a 'transfiguring force, the ultimate wellspring of beauty and grace' ... the 'banks of the river do not suffer because they let the river flow'.

It is that sense of being a river without a bank.

I am grateful for my fellow 'chump' who endures my struggle with me even though I find it difficult to know 'how to be'. My instinct is withdrawal and that is mostly what I do. I feel rubbish that I have just made an excuse not to meet with another friend who is not so familiar with this path that I am on. I struggle to do it and feel quite a lot worse when I do and so am careful about it because it can throw me off what is already a dodgy trajectory. It is like asking a steady, regularly orbiting planet to kiss a comet as it comes burning through, hurtling in a freefall, heading it knows not where.