Wednesday, November 25, 2015

#10 Write Your Grief: "Weariness" by Hannah Arendt

Where do you find yourself in this piece?
Can you write from here, whether in her style or her tone?

For today's writing, copy Arendt's opening lines:
evening falling - a soft lamenting ... and go from there.

If another line calls you, start there. No rules. Nothing required.

The really strange part for me about grief is that I have learned (and I am still learning) that I cannot let it be all there is to me.  When I read this poem my heart hurts because I see myself in so many lines of the poem; in places I thought I had overcome.

What I have loved, I cannot hold.

I have days that are completely wasted by depression and grief.  While I say they are wasted I almost instantly feel guilt about my grief and about wishing away these feelings.  I wish it wasn't there because that would obviously mean Charlie would still be here.   But since he is not, I can't wish it away; it is my love for him exposing itself in an uncomfortable way.

What lies around me, I cannot leave. 

The pit is deep.  It can be so deep and so wide some days that it is impossible to climb out.  Darkness overwhelms me.  However, I am a daughter of the highest King.  I am loved.  I am significant.  He knows my heart and he know that the walls that close in around me make me think everything is declining.  He lets me know that is not truth.  

Everything declines, while darkness rises. 

I used to be overcome by joy.  I used to be overcome by love.  I used to feel happy.  Now, nothing overcomes me.  I want so badly to feel the same spark I had before.  This must be life's way.

Nothing overcomes me-this must be life's way.

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