why does grief exist? why must we endure it

issue 15 ♡ grief is the source of love. learning the cues of the (heart) breaks

paddle out. newport beach, 2017. photo by ben sullivan.

dear doris. what is grief? why does it exist and must we endure it? love every human who has experienced loss.

dear humans,

today is kawa angel day — the day our firstborn passed into spirit, six years ago. it’s a day we have throw petals and caution to the wind, showering the shore with offerings of shells, flowers and banjo bears — her three favourite earthly things (not in any particular order).

i wrote my first book love is. channelled from kawa. the book dedicated to all the mamas and the papas of the world with angel children.

it felt timely to ask my higher self this question today on the twenty third of july — the date my life changed irrevocably. in part one, i tune into my higher self doris to journal her notes on grief and then share from my earth-bound lens in part two.

please note that ‘god’ could be substituted for any vernacular or venerable you prefer and heaven can be replaced with the etheric plane that aligns with you.

part 1.

grief is the source of love. it teaches us humans how to hold onto lightness and darkness of being. grief prepares us for death — of the body in a way we cannot comprehend until we, well actually die and we must all die. strangely enough we forget to die — we disallow ourselves death on earth, that we can overthrow the grim reaper, the death angel, the axe that ends life.

how can we be so blind to what looms ahead? how can we refuse the cycle of life and love and death. why are we prone to eluding what is inevitable. well, its simple. we are made by god/source and in us, there is god incarnate — the knowledge that life is infinite and incredulous and incandescent but there is also the shadow aspect to life — longing, suffering, grief, despair, destruction, torment and tears. we cannot have one without the other. we cannot be another without the yin yang of other.

we seek to find ourselves on the planet of earth. we are here to learn deep soul lessons of love and loss — that the grief will shape our being, that it will make us whole and unite the division of light and dark in us.

it’s not fun to grieve — but then neither is birth. coming into life and leaving life is miraculous and beautiful but #notforfun. we don’t descend into incarnations #justforfun otherwise what is the point of it all. we incarnate to learn, live, love and hopefully grow and evolve into whole beings, filled with an ever-increasing amount of light we can hold in our bodies.

the more you allow grief in, the more light comes in. like waves and torrents of god/source/magick dust entering your etheric body filling you with a deep wisdom that was always yours but forgotten in the descent to earth. learning to lose love is one of earth’s great lessons. she — mother gaia — is a great great teacher in the soul lesson of love and loss. constantly she is birthing creatures great and small here, all the while releasing them from their incarnations like a constant stream of light coming in and out in equal measure.

the souls who leave generally feel weightlessness and leave with gratitude and peace. the souls coming in come from an array of backgrounds and past lives. they come with purpose and position themselves to excel at the game of life. but life throws you ‘distractions’, ‘disasters’ and death on your path, to test your souls courage, charisma and character and most of all — your faith, grace and servitude to god/source incarnate.

the belief in a god almighty or source consciousness is one that allows one to grieve with a sense of purpose. that it is not all for nothing. that it does serve you. that it does act in accor-dance to grace. that you did agree to this lesson of grief prior to incarnation. that you agreed to suffer and bear the lesson of love lost, that we all must bear in our lifetimes.

it’s not all smelling the roses, sometimes its suffering from the thorn of the rose, at times a single prick can devastate us and feel like you can’t go on (in this game) while for others, a constant barrage of pain and suffering may be in store for them, but they learn to ride the current of grief.

at first, tumultuous and unpredictable, monstrous and gnarly — this wave will pound you to the core and shatter your cells of being, pulverising every thing you thought you ever knew. and then as it goes on, the break between sets lengthens and you pick up the telltale signs of a storm brewing. you learn the cues of the (heart) breaks, you learn to count the time between waves, you learn to succumb to the insatiable beast and beauty of it all.

the most beautiful day of your life will also be the most heartbreaking in equal measure — the yin yang of life here on earth, as we ride the waves, float on the flotsam and tumble with the tide. allow life to take you on a totally excellent, exhilarating and enigmatic ride.

part II

how could i have ever imagined that the most beautiful day of this lifetime would also be the most heartbreaking in equal measure — and it would be the day we whispered, whimpered and wailed goodbye to our firstborn and paddled out to sea, to bid adieu and honour her life on earth.

this is an excerpt from a piece i wrote for lunch lady back in 2018 in the early months of grief — unexpectedly the most beautiful day of my life.

when we paddled out for kawa, there were a couple hundred people there— people we knew and people we did not know, who joined us on the sand and water. as we all paddled out to sea, the water was glassy and calm. i turned my head to see men and women in hawaiian shirts with leis around their necks and flowers tucked under their surfer wings; others with them clenched in their teeth.

we formed two circles with our boards all facing into the middle. a gentle prayer was said and in the inner circle, we released kawa’s ashes into the water. the wind caught hold of the ash and dust that was once her human self, and scattered with the gentle breeze. her best boy buddy, then five years old, sat on the front of his dad’s board and watched with incredulous eyes and awe as we took part in this sacred ritual.

we threw our leis and flowers up in the sky, and we howled and splashed the water so that the tears falling and the sea became one. my heart was bursting, and i knew that every person there felt it—this incredible sense of unity, of community, as brothers and sisters in arms, and we were all there for love.

for love of a beautiful little girl who lived every day to the fullest. the outpouring of love enveloped us all, and it was, without a doubt, the most beautiful and heart-bursting day of my life. i felt like my heart was exploding, but now, upon reflection i know it was cracking open.

love d(oris) x

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