We are awful short sighted creatures. We have a habitual aversion to what is inevitable. Happiness, for example, is not sustainable or constant. Sometimes we aren’t even aware we are experiencing it because people never know what they got till it’s gone. We avoid sadness, shame, dread, and all things we decide are unwanted.

We fail to descend that desire is the source of all suffering even when all you want is to avoid disappointment. The only way to pull this off is to forgo any expectations. Because we need hope, we are dogged by its shadow, which is despair. If I were to say I found Beauty in the grief I felt when I lost someone I loved more than anyone or anything in this world, it may sound shady. But weeping was wonderful in its way. That I could feel that loss so profoundly gave credence to love. When I stopped crying, when he wasn’t in my daily thoughts any more, when I went on without him to love others in other ways, this was worse than pain.

Betrayed by those we love, we may fall into ugly ways. But when we realize we loved with only the joy love itself affords us, not in exchange for their love or even their compassion, we can be touched by the beauty love in and of itself becomes. Later, we may be gracious and grateful or dearest wishes were ignored. Loving is never lost even when you discover it’s a lie. Acceptance moves us beyond the pain, and is realized in the beauty of letting go.

That we can feel so deeply, is beautiful because it is not something every can bear, or fathom. Remember weeping is as vital as laughter. One without the other is a pantomime, and a lot of have neither as our souls flatline. Here’s the thing, you cannot dwell on the knife in you back, nor quit when you fall. Walk it off, your champions will say. Keep going, especially when you’re in hell. All those people who pretend they have perfect lives are the most miserable of all.

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