let it move you

 

This week I read a fascinating concept in the book, Bearing the Unbearable by Joanne Cacciatore. It's a deep, healing read and helped me to navigate an intense grief experience the very day I read it. 

I recommend giving the book a try if you feel disconnected from the love of your lost one(s). 

The piece I read was this: 

The word emotion has its roots in the Latin mover and emover, meaning "to move through" and "to move out". Our emotions move in us, move through us, and move between us. And when we allow them to move freely, they change, perhaps scarcely and perhaps gradually - but inevitably. This is grief's most piercing message; there is no way around - the only way is through. Page 54

Later that evening, I felt another surge of big feelings rising up inside of me (why is it always in the evening??). Sensing that this was a big one, I retreated to my designated safe space and sat, pressing one hand into my heart space and one over my lower belly. I began to breathe deeply and slowly, trying to loosen the reactive tightening around the pain. 

It wasn't working. 

I could feel the pain, panic, and fear rising and swirling into a storm. Then the line from this book came to mind - "to move through...to move out..." I realized that my instinctive tightening around the parts that were hurting was keeping the emotions stuck when they needed to move. 

I repeated the phrase in my mind - "let it move...let it move you"

"Let it move you" likely came to mind because it is a line from a popular song on Christian radio. But it has nothing to do with this moment, other than that line giving my mind something to hold on to. 

I kept breathing and reminding myself that my emotions cannot harm me. 

It was a long wrestle. But I could feel that my efforts were taking me in a good direction. So I kept at it. 

Breathe low...breathe slow...let it move you...

After a time, the intensity subsided. I stayed with it a while longer, feeling exhausted but somehow also cleansed. Like after a really good cry, only bigger.

Later that night and the next day I pondered the majesty of the experience. That book had been checked out to me for almost 3 full renewal periods - the max that this library allows. 

I hadn't read it. 

It just sat there at the bottom of my stack of books, and though I almost returned it early once or twice, I just didn't. No big feelings or "premonitions". I simply left it there. 

Then, that week, lacking a new book to read and without really thinking much of it, I decided I would get it done. I counted how many pages I would need to read each day to finish before it was due (for real) and started reading. 

I think I had only started it the day before this experience, yet I made it halfway through the book. 

I had been wanting to feel the feelings again - to remember the love and grief for my deceased children. This book sure did that for me. When I was ready. 

I am so grateful for a God who works in mysterious ways, bringing me comfort, instruction, and healing through a worn-out book I should have returned to the library weeks ago. He knew how far I would get, and what I needed in order to make it through this experience wiser and more whole than before.