Shiva

-

Don’t you need time alone? 

What I need more is the gentle bustle of people 

and the pressing of a glass of water into my hand.

The aroma of food, quiet conversation from another room, dishes being washed, warm presence all around.

My house humming with soft industry.

Reminding me what living is like. 


I don’t want to intrude.


Walk through the door into that holy place anyway.

Eyes soft,

Ears open,

Mouth closed.

Arms stretched wide to hold the collapse and bear quiet witness to the work of loss. 


It is too big. I don’t know how to help.


Bring blankets to climb under  

and fresh linen for me to rest on each night, searching for dreamless sleep.

Stroke my hair, let me cry.

Don’t try and answer the unanswerable questions

Light candles and cook food, for this home needs a full heart.


Just come. 

Come and stay. 

Keep coming. 


This is how to love those who mourn, 

and I know you love me. 


Job 2:11-13

11 When Job’s three friends heard about all this calamity that had come upon him, each of them came from his own place—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite. They met together to come and mourn with him and to comfort him. 12 But when they saw him from a distance they did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept. Each one tore his robe and threw dust into the air onto their heads. 13 Then they sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights. No one spoke a word to him because they saw that his pain was very great.


Author’s Note: 

Our Jewish brothers and sisters do rituals and life passages so brilliantly, wisely, well. 


In the Jewish tradition, Shiva is derived from the word sheva, which means seven, signifying the seven days of mourning. It is a time referred to as – “sitting shiva” and its primary purpose is to provide a time for spiritual and emotional healing, where mourners join together. A person sits shiva for a parent, spouse, sibling or child. The home is open for visitors during this time, surrounding those grieving with support, care, and opportunities to process the loss. It might seem counterintuitive to open up instead of seek privacy, but therein lies the wisdom. We are created to be in community, and allowing others to meet our needs, love us, and mourn with us is in fact one of the most restorative things you can imagine. 


This is a gentle urging to those of us who don’t live in that rich heritage not to be afraid to come and “sit low” with us.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tradition

-
Image
Jonah was a tradition super fan. Not only did he love all the long-established traditions in our family, but he loved declaring something a new tradition. In recent years, our new traditions began to include a Christmas movie each night in December, Christmas music from the day after Thanksgiving on, binging the Great British Baking Show together, and subsequent Christmas baking projects with mom (cookies, treats, even a yule log - he had already been talking about doing that one again this year). We had traditions around the Christmas tree selection, the night we decorated the tree, when and how we decorated the house, what movies we watched and when, what music we listened to and when. He kept them. He insisted upon them. He loved them. His joy was a wave that swept through us all, carrying us through this season in such a state of gratitude and laughter and love.  And Christmas morning was the zenith of our family expression of Christmas tradition. Just the four of us, matching jamm
Read more

Christmas

-
Image
I don’t know what I expected it to be.  Maybe I did.  Maybe I thought everything about this season would feel nauseating. Maybe I thought I would feel angry and robbed to sense others' anticipation and happiness as they celebrated with family. Maybe I thought I wouldn’t be able to stop weeping. Maybe I thought all those things could be true, but it was not like that. But it wasn't easy either.  I have cried deeply, honestly, everyday.  I delayed decorations and avoided celebrations as long as I could. I stayed in bed for two days last week when everything felt too heavy and hard to do.  We didn’t get our tree until the 22nd. No gifts until the 23rd. Didn’t wrap a thing until the 24th. Instead of a long, dreadful walk through garish, manufactured, sugarplum happiness, Christmas came almost like a shot at the doctor’s office you didn’t see coming. It’s here. You're doing it. It’s done before you can even get yourself too worked up.  So no matter what I thought it might be, th
Read more

Maybe

-
Image
I have been feeling lighter lately. Maybe since last week? We have been granted an odd reprieve from winter this year and it is hard not to feel a certain lifting in one’s soul in such graceful weather, so I have considered the placebo effect.  But no. While this unseasonably warm winter is certainly helping, the lightening is not situational as far as I can tell. It feels positional. Like I am turning (or being turned), degree by degree, to gradually face a different direction.  I don’t think I am on the move yet, but instead of filling my pockets full of precious, broken things, I am feeling a persistent, gentle presence, coaxing me to pause and lift my eyes and look around. A wisp of a finger on my chin. Look, there is a way you could go. Shh, shh, shh. No hurry. No rush. But see? See the soft road, ambling onward, dappled and kind?  Maybe.  It feels tempting to accept the sun. Consume it. Let it bake my bones white.  To eat the red fruit and let juice run down my chin.  Feel the br
Read more