Loss

I have a deeply rooted fear of loss.   It is a scary place that I am reluctant to face and enter into.  This fear alone is reason for me to pay attention.

I want to be able to enter into and allow myself to steep in loss.   I want to be able to accept the sadness of loss, to feel the empty space, to allow it to envelop me.

I don’t think I can make room for whatever else might enter in unless I have burnished the empty space with sorrow.   I want to become friends with the emptiness, become familiar with its depth and breadth, accept it in all its unpleasantness.

I have seemed to go to great effort to avoid the pain of loss.   The loss might be for something that has been or even for what might be.  Perhaps this is because the taste of loss encompasses so many memories,  I must swallow again the bitterness of losses already felt.   I know this and yet I must swallow and go on.

I should never gamble or go to an auction.    The pain of possible loss could cause me to do things I would regret.

I want to become open to the sadness of loss.  Fearing it does not serve me well.