Sometimes, It’s Just Loss

This morning I woke with a profound sense of loss.

Not because of anything recent. Not because of one specific event or person.

Just…loss.

The totality of it.

It struck me how loss is one of the few experiences that unites every human being. It is not exclusive to any one person or circumstance. We all carry it in one form or another, woven quietly into the fabric of our lives.

…The loss of loved ones.

…The loss of friendships.

…The loss of relationships.

…The loss of homes and lifestyles.

…The loss of identities.

…The loss of pets.

…The loss of abilities.

…The loss of careers.

…The loss of dreams.

…The loss of freedoms.

…The loss of places.

…The loss of things.

Just…loss.

We spend so much of our lives trying to make sense of it. We search for the lesson, the silver lining, the opportunity for growth. And yes, those things are there. Life has an extraordinary way of inviting us to become more through what we have lost.

But sometimes…

Sometimes, it just plain sucks.

And that’s okay.

There doesn’t always need to be a deeper meaning in the moment. There doesn’t always need to be gratitude waiting around the corner or a lesson we haven’t yet uncovered.

Sometimes we simply miss what was.

Healing is not pretending we don’t. Or stuffing it all away.

To heal means to feel.

It means allowing our emotions to move through us rather than trying to make them disappear. But it also means not becoming stuck in grief or building a home inside our pain.

Grief isn’t a sign that we’re failing.

It’s a sign that something mattered.

It is okay to have moments when sadness rises unexpectedly. A song. A smell. A place. A quiet Sunday morning. A memory you didn’t invite but that arrives anyway.

You don’t have to justify it.

You don’t have to explain it.

You simply have to allow it.

Like water washing over us, our losses and the emotions bred from them, begins to move through us.

And when they do, they leave us a little lighter than before.

Sometimes there are reasons for our losses.

Sometimes there aren’t.

Sometimes life changes in ways we never would have chosen.

Sometimes things end without explanation.

Sometimes they simply…

Suck.

And for that, I am truly sorry.

Give yourself permission to grieve the losses that you’ve experienced, whether they happened yesterday or twenty years ago.

Let them come without judgment, without needing to fix them, and without demanding they make sense.

Let it be as it may be, in the moment.

When we give ourselves permission to feel, sometimes beautiful things happens.

Perhaps it is much like watching a sunset.

Each evening, we witness the loss of the sun’s light and warmth. The day comes to an end, and no amount of wishing or holding on can keep the sun from setting. We cannot stop the setting sun any more than we can the rising one.

We can lament that the day is done while also feeling grateful that another dawn will come. Those two truths are not in conflict…they coexist. Grief and gratitude can live in the same heart.

But nature doesn’t leave us in darkness.

As the sun sets, the moon rises.

Where the sun offers warmth and illumination, the moon offers something sacred and essential in return.

It invites stillness. Reflection. Rest.

It quietly pulls at the tides, reminding us that what lies beneath the surface is meant to move.

Like the ocean responding to the moon’s gentle pull, our own emotions rise and fall. The tides bring ashore what has long been hidden, revealing what still longs to be seen, felt…and healed.

The darkness is not empty. Nor can we truly avoid it.

It is the space where cleansing happens. Where tears fall. Where old wounds are gently washed. Where we release what no longer belongs before the light returns.

Only then does the dawn begin to offer us new warmth. New light. New opportunities. New life.

So it is with our losses.

We cannot hold back what has passed, nor can we force what is yet to come. We can allow ourselves to mourn what has been while remaining open to what is slowly making its way toward us.

There is purpose in the sunset.

There is purpose in the moonlight.

And there is purpose in the dawn.

Like the rain that falls upon thirsty ground, our tears nourish new life, and new growth.

That is the nature of healing:

Not forcing ourselves to let go.

But gently allowing life & loss to move through us.

The slow and steady ebb and flow of feeling…

…and, of letting go.