Grieve. Create. Heal.

I was sitting with friends the other day telling them about some tough things that have been occupying far too much of my brain space these days. We're talking all-consuming, can't shake 'em, sucking-the-life-out-of-me thoughts. I loathe the fact that this happens occasionally, but it's true. One of them asked me what I do when that happens. The answer came easy. I get busy making something. 

I'm not talking about the kind of busy that basically means ignoring something that needs to be dealt with. Trust me, as a fixer and someone who would choose to nip any kind of issue in the bud immediately, I would prefer to not let things simmer. But when that isn't an option, I'm as susceptible as anyone when it comes to a fast spiral into a deep, dark place. No, what I'm referring to is the kind of busy that forces your brain to go from thinking on things that are negative, dark, and defeating, and fixing your mind on things that are good - full of light and life. 

Over the past few years, I've come to see life as a constant grieving. It just is what it is. We are in a constant state of change. Letting go. Adjusting and adapting. If I sound like a Debby Downer, I don't mean to. The truth is, most of life requires a dying of some sort. Seeds fall to the ground and die. And then something grows. I wrote a song a couple of years ago and that started with this lyric: "I hope heaven has a cornfield in October, reminding me as autumn fades away, that even though it takes a little dying, life will come again on harvest day." I've thought about that lyric a lot the past few days as I've driven the country roads of Nebraska and seen farmers harvest their crops. Things die, we gather what remains, we move on making use of what we have gathered, and then the land begins to heal for a new season. 

I've tried to look at my creative life the same way. Life dishes out circumstance after circumstance and I either celebrate or grieve what has happened. The celebrating comes easy, doesn't it? Those are the best of days. But, I am also learning to see the very good things that come from the grieving moments too.  When something dies, I can gather what is left, use it to make something, and at some point, I feel the healing begin. Grieve, create, heal. Grieve, create, heal. Over and over, this process has been life-giving to my soul on more days than I can remember.  And once again, gratitude overflows. 

Maybe today a day for you to grieve. But, maybe today is a day for you to make something out of whatever you have left around you. Maybe today you sit down and write, or pull out your canvas and paints, or bake something that gives sustenance to your body and soul. To force your brain to think on things that are good, true, and lovely. I'm quite certain that if you can find a way to do whatever creative thing it is that you do, you will soon see the healing begin. 

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