Good Grief, Charlie Brown...

Good Grief, Charlie Brown...

Peanuts was by far my favorite cartoon strip when I was a kid. I guess at some point I figured I had outgrown it, even though the humor and poignancy of the strip operate equally well or even better for adults.

As a kid, I took 'good grief' at face value: it is what Charlie said when the world just got too much for him. As a adult who has lived - is living - through loss it takes on a whole new meaning. Here is some of what I've learned about good grief...

Grief takes whatever time it takes.

Losses seem to naturally compound and cascade. Sometimes this makes it harder to sort out the compounded and cascaded grief.

Grief has a social component. "I get by with a little help from my friends..." But when some people ask how you are doing, they don't really want to know.

Kubler-Ross was one smart woman, and her model helps; but understanding a model of grief is not the same thing as grieving.

Resignation is not the same as acceptance.

Writing and talking help.

Inexorable...

Inexorable...

The second movement of the Bach Double Violin Concerto (BWV1043) has this gorgeous descending melodic line that is played by one violin and then picked up and repeated by the second violin a few bars later.

When I was studying this piece with Lon years ago, he taught me to see it as one long phrase that descends inexorably through the opening bars, instead of two or three smaller phrases. The tension of that line as it descends and is woven by the two violins into a slow ('ma non tonto' - 'but not too much') fugue makes this one of the most beautiful - even profound - pieces of music in the literature.

This post brought tears to my eyes, maybe because it echoes that inexorable passage of our lives. As much as I would like to have frozen those moments, I couldn't. So many things in life - like aging and death in various forms - are uncontrollable. I think I've forgiven myself for that. Really, who would want to control them? But letting go, at least for me, isn't a "there it's done" kind of thing.

Thanks for the memories, Leena. My love to you and Ben. May your lives make beautiful music.

Darkness & Shadow...

Darkness & Shadow...

Sometimes the best map will not guide you
You can't see what's round the bend
Sometimes the road leads through dark places
Sometimes the darkness is your friend
Today these eyes scan bleached-out land
For the coming of the outbound stage
Pacing the cage
Pacing the cage

Bruce Cockburn
"Pacing the cage"

The other day my hero AngryBlackBitch wrote a great post about being in a deep funk. She figured if Bush could declare war on terror, why couldn't she declare war on her depressive funk. I don't comment on her blog often, but I was thinking of the Cockburn song when I posted this comment:

"ABB - So how is the war on terror working for scooter b and his buddies? Declaring war on emotions? Just as hopeless.

I only started getting over depression when I stopped resenting it and realized those emotions were trying to tell me something. Maybe the funk is your friend. It took me years to face that shit..."

I can believe that for some people it is all a chemical issue. Not for me.

In a related vein, a friend told me that my web presence as projected through a google search was pretty positive. It should be since I control most of it through press releases and articles that I author and publish. (If you've never quoted yourself for a press release, I recommend giving it a try. It's kind of fun.) I suggested that this blog was actually a better picture of who I really am, but even as I said it I realized that this too is a persona that I project for family and my closest friends. Do you ever wonder what I leave out?

Which gets me back to shadow and darkness. I think Jung was dead-on on so many things. Coming to terms with who we really, no kidding, are - shadow/light/darkness/life - is one of the most important things we can do in life.

Ah well, my second glass of wine is almost done, as is Charity of Night, and it is time to make some supper.