Posted in Inspiration, Life, Loss

The lessons of The Valley of loss

Yesterday was the church service for my aunt who recently passed away. It’s hard to believe that I just saw her last Saturday, and although she wasn’t well then, in reality she had been sick and bed ridden for years. Nobody saw that this would be the end. She was suppose to be released from the hospital on Monday, but that day turned out completely different. I even sent a message that day hoping that the transport and everything went well. Tuesday I got a response that she had fallen asleep forever.

Sitting in church and although different, much was so familiar and alike it was with Mom. Here I was again and everything resurfaced. Both, Mom and my aunt were close to the same age, both with the exact same illness. It was almost eerie how similar everything was as the same trauma unfolded itself all over in another person. It was almost as if I was given a change to be here for her while I didn’t make it in time for Mom before she passed. It was as if I was given this scenario, to experience it from that angle and to know that I would have equally felt as helpless being here or not. Perhaps it was to let go of that guilt, of those haunting feelings.

Just a short time ago, I stood here myself, putting Mom to rest. Still affected, being a part of the family, but with a little more distance, I stood at the sidelines while we were singing some of the same songs from Moms service. Everything was so strangely familiar, as I felt every emotion, every moment on a complete new and more intense level. I saw everyone, immediate and extended family sit together afterwards for coffee, talking about everything and anything, almost as if nothing had happened. It was almost as if life immediately resumed and the sadness ended with the church service. Just the immediate family, her husband (my uncle) and her sons still carried a grief about themselves that begged to get this over with and to return to silence in the hope to find some peace and relief. I found it challenging for myself and I was glad that I had opted out of meeting after the funeral. It was obvious how hard it was to just carry on, to be good company, to pick up with the motto “life goes on,” and move forward so quickly. I could see my uncle and cousins in The Valley of loss, pushing grief and pain aside for a better time to deal with, because now, on front of everyone wasn’t the time to do so. They performed and this was something that had to be done, something they had to get through. I didn’t want to do that to myself as I had opted out of the get together afterwards.

The Valley of loss… how often had I been there myself, during times of pain and loss. Walking trough that valley, running from it, afraid of that horrible place of pain. A place that’s dark and gray, a place full of despair where no one can hold your hand and help you trough. This is a place you walk through alone, naked and vulnerable, and only after running from it several times, did I finally find the courage to stay and embrace this place with all it’s pain. I wasn’t hiding any longer, I no longer turned my face not wanting to see, I was no longer afraid and I just faced it without resistance, no longer fighting back, allowing it to break me open, and wide open… it did. Maybe fear and all that was still a part of me, but none of that mattered anymore and there was something that was greater than that fear.

In return it allowed me to feel at an elevated level, to see even more the delicate balance that is life. I saw the value of the “Two wolves”, and understood the meaning that everything positive and negative has a place in our life. That we wouldn’t experience joy if we never experienced sorrow. That we never enjoy the warmth’s of the sun on our face of we hadn’t felt the cold of the darkness. I learned about opposites and that one is not better then the other, that each carries positives, we just need to see. I learned more in-depth about my life’s lessons I thought I had long learned already. I found them integrated at yet another level and with even more powerful meaning. I have no idea if more levels of the same lessons will follow, if I need to experience anew that it is pain that molds us into who we were meant to be, but one thing is for certain. I no longer have to run from The Valley of loss and I have learned to embrace it in all its complexity, heartache and pain. I can’t say that I’d look forward to see it again, but I know I will, eventually and that’s not the point. I know that I can and that I can take away the lessons that devastating landscape has to offer. And with that….yes….life does and will go on.

Author:

Who am I, and why I write. I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I am the one, holding on to the silver lining when the skies are gray. I’m a believer that nothing is coincidence, but that everything has purpose. I’ve made my mistakes, don’t we all, but I see them as growing pains and they are a part of who I am today. I have lost myself in order to find myself, and I still do from time to time, but in a good way. I’m a big child who laughs until my belly hurts when life wants to be serious. Career wise: I’ve been there, done that, and I took “The jump” off the hamster wheel in an effort to change my future. I didn’t land all that soft, but I can say that I’m still proud to have found the courage to do it. Coming full circle, I had it all, and yet I was lonely and had nothing. Today I choose to be a collector of moments and I chase memories, instead of the material stuff. Less is more, and the motto is quality over quantity. You’d be amazed at how freeing it can be. I see myself as a free spirit that believes in an unconventional lifestyle. Somehow I go against the grain most of the times, not to rebel, but because it feels right to stay true to my unique and authentic self. It takes courage, and you often stand alone, but if you dare, you soon realize that it is the only way if you don’t want to lose who you are. Just like most, my past wasn’t easy and I come from a life that didn’t always give me the opportunity to be heard. Few related and even fewer cared to take the time. But that’s the past and it’s history, the future hasn’t happened and the “NOW” is truly all we ever have. In the end we all have a story to tell, and we all seek to be understood. We all yearn to be heard and accepted and still life is hard and our path is full of stumbling blocks. If we can see the lessons in adversity we may realize that the toughest moments are often our greatest teachers. There is a reason for the saying that the stars can’t shine without darkness, and it might be darkness that will show you the light.
It took a series of (un)fortunate events, to learn to glow through the pain, to learn how to dance in the rain. I believe in Magic and wonder, and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. As an empath this old soul often feels a little too much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Today, I am here to tell my story because I believe that it can help others. It is my hope to bring inspiration and strengths to you, while showing you that it can be done. I know you are out there, and I know you are suffering in silence. I am here to tell you that you are not alone, and your voice is being heard loud and clear. Hang on and be strong, transformation is yours. 
In light and love....Rhapsody Bohème 💙🦋

16 thoughts on “The lessons of The Valley of loss

  1. It is very tough to recognize, that we wont see them again in this life, Rhapsody.
    You have learned a lot from this and now you are on the way to find and see the light again. This demands time and courage to go through, which you have.
    Remember that you are never alone. Send you much love ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is such a heartfelt journey Rhapsody, and within it that ability to understand those very balances so that we can be free of those things that hold us, and become those things our hearts desire ❤️
    Big hugs my friend, your wolves have begun to play ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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