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Writer's pictureShannon

Walks with Grief

For years, copying other people, I tried to know myself. From within, I couldn’t decide what to do. Unable to see, I heard my name being called. Then I walked outside. ~ Rumi, Open Secret

I took a walk with Grief today. By turns, he nipped along at my heels and pulled me onward, a mercurial dog that cannot be satisfied at one particular pace.

I tried to bury Grief in the backyard a few nights ago. It rose up again on the third day.

I made a monument out of Grief last night. I stood in the gloaming, disappointed. The bathetic obelisk already crumbled before me.

I called Grief up on the phone. I tried to tell her all the things I needed to say. She was so selfish, taking all the attention for herself, and leaving no time for me to discuss the matters at hand.

I took a nap with Grief today. Our lassitude lasted the better part of the afternoon.

I played hide-and-seek with Grief this afternoon. He was such a good sport. Couldn’t find him for hours. I finally gave up and went for a walk instead.

I wrote a letter to Grief today. I wanted to burn it, send it away in ritual. Instead, I’m sending it to you…

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