When Grief is a Live Wire
and Radical Curiosity as a mantra
“She was a thing sewn tight into whispers and silence.” - Ray Bradbury
I wasn’t prepared for the grief that struck me sideways in January.
The last months of 2022 I lived in a place of in-between. I lived without my family for three weeks. I wrote in the dark and unwound my soul words. I chased after myself and birthed a new me with purpose after my birthday. I gathered words and intentions together with spirit and created my first new year goal in ages. Then, suddenly, I awoke from a dream and felt the buoyancy of co-creating fall into a darkness, all I was left with was emptiness.
I was grieving. Again.
This grief was different than before. It was multi-hued and asked as much of me as I of it. Answers were needed. I faced myself, turned the grief and resulting anger inside out to discover what was really going on. Why grief, and why now?
It came back to the decision I made at the great fork in the road last September. After 15 years of dedication to my family and home I was faced with life altering decisions. The path I choose discounted my true passion and instead led to validation via a solid number in the form of a paycheck. A logical choice, to make money outside the home and support my family. My creative soul didn’t care about logic. Magic isn’t made through lack of self-valuation. I suddenly realized I hadn’t chosen me at all. The purity of my nature that I have minded to the surface couldn’t build dreams without acknowledging I had short changed the process. So, grief.
And also:
Exhausted.
Leveraged.
Distracted.
Blocked.
I suddenly had a million reasons to deny the words that wanted to be written. I had a thousand missed chances to feel the ecstasy of creative completion. I was surrounded with a hundred ways that I let myself down in the name of Other.
I can’t support what I don’t believe in. I can’t believe in what I don’t build and nurture. I haven’t given my writing the space it needs to grow. I haven’t taught my cells to crave extinguished phases so they will open up wider to receive. I want to be relevant within my art. I want to be needed to uplift with words. I want to be open to more space for stories. It doesn’t happen because I don’t make it happen. Until I become the voice for my writing, no one will.
I became wrapped up tight. I was a ball of frustration, grief, pain. And I was so over it.
So, I carried on numb but willing to find the spark again within the awareness of my choice.
I picked up my long trail of tears and closed the closet door on self-pity. I started focusing on what I really wanted to do and utilized what I had in front of me: gathered words. The first pair that lifted me up was Radical Curiosity.
And you know the funny thing about Spirit, it loves a come back story. So radical curiosity I have received. Under a new moon I hit a gold mine of creative inspiration and came up with the biggest writing goals I’ve ever created. Within these last few weeks I have started working on my new job and I’m really good at it. Then to add a little spice to my life and make sure I was really committed to what I wanted I spent a solid week on the couch with a thrown out back and the flu. I woke from the fever haze and jumped right back into my writing goals. The wind is starting in my sails again. I feel the co-creating love wrapping me up. This job I choose does have wide open space where my creative heart can expand and run free. I can do this. I can meet my dreams where they find me.
Wild Devotion isn’t the same place it was before, and you will see many changes in the coming weeks. I have some big announcements. I look forward to sharing them with you.
xo,
L
PS. If anyone has a cool idea of how to make curiosity into a symbolic tattoo please let me know.