Navigating the Waves of grief: A Reflection
Dear fellow humans,
Grief, often perceived as a daunting and isolating journey, is, in reality, a testament to the depth of our connections and the resilience of the human spirit. A month ago, my paternal grandmother, Yaffa bat Simcha, returned her soul to Hashem, propelling me into a profound exploration of my own emotions.
Despite being no stranger to the ‘reality’ of constriction, the waves of grief for my family have been deeply personal and intense. Each breath carries an ebb and flow, and within the quiet stillness, I search for peace in the inescapable divine will.
Mourning becomes this dance of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Navigating this emotional seascape, I strive to find the new normal, realizing that reality will be recreated anew. It's a challenging process.
Last night, I worked with a client commemorating the first yahrtzeit of his 11-month-old daughter. His anguish was palpable, real, and heart-wrenching. Existential questions surfaced as he grappled with being a provider, a husband, and a father to his living children. How does one reconcile suffering and powerlessness in the face of divinity?
As partners with Gd in creation and in bringing life into this world, we are also confronted with the reality that the breath of life ceases when Gd wills it, leaving us to make sense of it. Yet, we keep breathing through it, navigating the complexities of grief.
Feelings and emotions are always contextual, never existing in a vacuum. How does one then contextualize a broken heart?
A broken heart, as illustrated in a story of the Ba’al Shem Tov regarding Rosh Hashanah prayers, is a master key unlocking doors in our souls, accessing chambers in the supernal worlds. A broken heart opens to something greater, a realm beyond words. A greater context far beyond what I could conceive of before.
Who are the broken-hearted?
In Tehilim 147:3 recited every morning in Shachrit, we find solace: "He heals their broken hearts and binds up their wounds."הָ֭רֹפֵא לִשְׁב֣וּרֵי לֵ֑ב וּ֝מְחַבֵּ֗שׁ לְעַצְּבוֹתָֽם׃
“The broken hearted”, The Iben Ezra writes הם אבילי ציון the mourners of zion. The same mourners perhaps are referenced in the departing statement that is said at the shiva as an offering of condolence and a prayer for consolation.
The Radak writes כמו ישראל שהם שבורי לב ועצבים בגלות (the broken hearted) - are like Israel who are broken hearted and pained in the exile. Which perhaps tells me that there is a collective broken heart that all of israel is a part of in this exile.
The Metzudat David writes הרופא. הוא הרופא למי שלבו נשבר מרוב התוגה:- He is the healer of ones whose heart was broken from the immense grief.
The Malbim seems very straightforward הרופא לשבורי לב, לישראל שלבם נשבר על צרתם “israel, whose heart was broken over their pain.
How does one breathe through a broken heart?
The broken-hearted father mourning his daughter granted himself permission to embrace brokenness, to be with what is. It's a process of breathing into and through the pain, without fighting, compartmentalizing or spiritualizing. To be with it & and open to what emerges. To introduce a breath of life, again.
Perhaps the narrow breath that kept us in a slavery mindset in Egypt continues to constrict us in our daily lives. By inviting divine flow into our broken, defeated. & devastated spaces, we can find openings to freedom. Once that happens perhaps The 'binding of the wounds,' as described by Malbim, fills the heart with joy and happiness under the pain.כי תחת עצב ימלאו שמחה וגיל
Grief through a wider lens
“I hope this grief stays with me because it's all the unexpressed love that I didn't get to tell her”
-Andrew Garfield
When we reframe grief as unexpressed love, we recognize the pain of having love with no outlet. When the outlet of love has been ‘cut off’ & the vessel of love is no longer ‘there’, the ‘backup’ of unexpressed love is painful. To have love and not be able to give it is painful, it's heart-breaking.
This unexpressed love is present not only in death but also in unmet connections, misunderstandings, and missed opportunities for intimacy. It is present everywhere. Grief, as part of existence, deserves acknowledgment, affirmation, and acceptance to pave the way for greater peace.
Grief is a non-linear process, an evolution, shaping and transforming us. Whether the loss of a loved one, the end of a chapter, or a shift in identity, each grief wave underscores the importance of what was and the potential for what can be. It's a reminder that, in the vast sea of our emotions, we are not alone. We still have love to give.
It is because of the grief and pain experienced in Egypt that we were able to call out from our constriction and be heard. As it was so it will be again iyH.
There is a grief inside, quiet or loud, deserving to be heard and listened to. It may just lead you into hope.
“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
Shabbat Shalom,
Moshe Haim
