How DeCluttering my Desk Helped me find Comfort in Grief
I am primarily a visual learner/organizer, so my desk routinely has project piles all over it. It is how I create and how I process. And, it becomes a hot mess that needs to be decluttered regularly. Today is a day I planned to do just that. (Intentionally scheduling time to get organized is key.)
Motivated by the visit from the kids this afternoon (yep, I am a “party cleaner” sometimes. Okay, most of the time!), l gathered my “to do” and “to file” boxes as well as trash & recycling bins and got to work.
Decluttering is therapeutic for me (as it is for most people if they have the personalized support and system THEY need), so while I felt good about my progress, I was distracted by some grief I had not fully processed. Then I found a little memorial card in one of the piles. Also known as prayer cards or funeral cards, they are intended as keepsakes for those who attend memorial services. I had picked one up as I left and slipped it immediately into my purse without reading the message on the back. So, it was on my desk with the rest of the purse contents to organize. And I am so very glad that I found it today.
Weekends are usually quiet, reflective times for me. Instead of keeping my senses aware of what is going on physically, mentally and emotionally with my clients so that I can proceed or adjust as needed to meet their goals, I do that for myself. And what my self was telling me was that I needed to address grief.
So many beloved beings have made their transition back to heaven (my language of choice; please insert your own here as well as in the passage below) in these past months. Beings that are dear friends, treasured colleagues and beloved pets of our family, our friends, and of so many friends I connect with primarily online.
I have found myself feeling great sadness for others and at a loss for how to articulate condolences. And, then, this little card, with a verse by an author unknown to me, expressed what I know to be true. I read it and then reread it as I typed it in for you. I followed its instructions and found myself speaking and smiling and laughing in memory of my beloveds, and wishing the same for you. May it bring your comfort, my friends.
"Death is nothing at all - I have only slipped away into the next room. Whatsoever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way which you always used to.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be the household word that is always was. Let it be spoken without effort.
Life means all that it has ever meant. It is the same as it ever was, there is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of your mind because I am out of your sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is past, nothing is lost. One brief moment and all we be as it was before, only better, infinitely happier and forever - we will be one together with Christ."
Author Unknown
photo by Akira Hojo @joephotography
