Commentary: Keeping a tiny sliver of hope alive as we journey through grief
A Lone Boy, dry pastel on paper, 1990 by Carl Gopalkrishnan, Port Beach, Western Australia
I've had a lot of time in the last month as I prepared for the launch of VALA by re-reading my written essay & meditating on the four canvases I painted for that. I want to share some of my thoughts.
We must honour our own grief first, even as people try to politicise our human emotions, because silently doing so helps us to heal inside, which helps us to resist the negativity which is a doorway to darker forces shape-shifting to trick us into fighting each other at every opportunity. The shape-shifting nature of God and Satan, Good and Evil is at the heart of William Blake's poem The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1790). It contains truths aligned with many esoteric & mystical beliefs that have been suppressed for centuries.
I urge you to take a break from people who don't allow you to grieve, and it's ok to tunnel vision for a short while, but leave the door to your tunnel ajar, for all our survival depends on that tiny sliver of hope, of light we allow, like a thread to keep us from getting lost in the forrest. Return to your grief, but add in the good memories, and build a shelter from this war, for it is a war of everyone's mind, feelings, and our future society and capacity to love, make art, music, friendship and build beautiful expressions of hope.
As a graduate of history and life long student of history and culture, this current dark cloud is one of many turning points in history, even if we do not feel that now, we will in coming years realise it. So be kind to yourself first, honour your grief without guilt in whatever language of grief reflects your culture and kin, but please, keep the different doors to other people's grief ajar also in the privacy of your own heart.
We can not be all things to all people all of the time. We can be all things to ourselves and the people who are important to us, and from that space, we can find ways, in time, to grow empathy. But in the depth of grief, it is entirely normal to be a hostage to history, all the while.wishing you could be above it. Forgive yourself first.
This wave of change is far too big to not move with it, but please don't lose sight of the shoreline, or you will have no strength to swim back home. 🙏
Please donate to Medicins Sans Frontieres
My late father was a doctor and one of the founders of The Malaysian Society of Anesthesiologists in 1963. I encourage donations to Medicins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders) in memory of him. There is no such thing as small or unimportant amounts. Thank you.
