Expressions of the Pen

 In Advice, Spiritual, Staff

How do we express our grief? Personal grief and work grief needs to be expressed – appropriately. As humans, we experience an enormous amount of grief – ours, our colleagues, our families, and our community’s. What is our outlet? Our pressure valve? We can’t safely hold it in for very long. It will kill us – literally!

I would like to offer to you a wonderful outlet or pressure release valve – writing. We can privately write in a journal, do an online-blog, write poetry, or even publish an article or pen a book. As long as you are comfortable doing it, this can be a wonderful expression and outlet for one’s stress and grief.  Clearly I’m not against exercise or other outlets of grief expression – I’m all for them. I’m simply suggesting a different form – one that is totally free. And personally, I find that writing engages both sides of my brain, hence tricking my heart to open and expel the sorrow that at times becomes wedged and difficult to extricate. Below is simply an example of my grief expression. I hope you too will engage in some writing of your own. And I bet you’ll be amazed at the benefits you’ll reap.

My mother died in December 2012, nearly 7 years ago, from inflammatory -breast cancer. The cancer was fast and unstoppable. From diagnosis to death was only 4 months. Concurrently carrying the grief of both my personal life and the hospice work that I do was substantial. But such is life…

Three years later, (2015), I wrote an article about my grief experience. And just last week I wrote this poem about that grief I was feeling – 6 months after her death in June 2013. My hope is that this will inspire you to explore your mind and heart and discover a new (or dusty) outlet of expression. And as you can see from my example, it can even be grief from many years in the past.

Grieving my Mother
Lorraine Edna Miranda 1935-2012

Cold Days

Long Nights

Chilling Wind, Makes Me Shiver

Cold Heart

Dimming Sight,

My Mother’s Death

          – In the Throes of Winter.

Six Months Future

The Season has altered

Emerald Leaves Now Cloth the Deciduous of Indignation

          – With Shimmers of Delight.

Scarred and Naked Trails Now Attired in Verdant Color

          – Entice My Desire for Exploration

Blue Skies Tantalize

Luxuriant Streams Seduce

Feathered Choirs Sing

          – Exuberance is their Refrain

But My Dormant heart

Still Caught in Winter.

My Sap Still Stuck Way Down Hither.

I’ll Grieve Good. It’s My Season –

          My Clock, My Drumbeat Pays No Respect to Time

One Day the Sap Will Rise

My Living Soul Will Burst with Color

Fragrant Leaves and Flowers,

-Will Shamelessly Caress Me…Again

But Not Now – I’m on Hiatus.

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