After The Work

Who is at the door of our hearts unbidden, almost random visitor? Sadness comes knocking when we get a flash of a memory, a realization of a shortcoming, or a missing out from long ago. Sadness can take us from the moment, putting us into the shoes of our former self when we recall a time or a person we no longer have or are. Sadness may even come without a thought, just an emotion that begs the question, “what am I sad about, why am I grieving?”

The sound of sadness comes when we are ourselves quiet, an echo, a passing memory comes to visit our day. Sadness is a heaviness. It bows our heads down. We want to curl up in the fetal position and feel no more. Then tears come, for many an infrequent stranger; for others much more familiar path that washes away the dust that settled. Sadness can take its toll, tiring us out, isolating us, pushing us to find release and to evade. We wish to be buried under our covers and hope for the relief of sleep.

Other times sadness may come when we are driving, or perhaps just working. We let our guard down for a moment and suddenly we feel the encroachment of sadness, knocking, asking us to cry, to grieve, or to say goodbye. It comes in a flash, and we try and push it back down. “Gotta get through the day”, we say. Sometimes sadness will win anyway, and we excuse ourselves to the restroom or we stop our cars and just put our heads on the steering wheel.

Sadness, like any emotion, is a visitor to our door and not a resident–at least it should be. Sometimes sadness over stays its welcome, clanging loudly in our hearts, crowding from our minds thoughts we’d rather think. Like someone who keeps sleeping on our couch and eating our ice cream, an annoying hanger on, an interloper seeking to serve itself and thereby burden us. It is then sadness seeks to crush us under its weight until we are dust. Without action it can overwhelm us.

When emotions come, they should be dealt with “with an open palm”. A feeling comes to visit upon our outreached hand. We acknowledge it, we feel it, and we allow it to stay until is leaves. It may stay at first a long time, the weight of which pulls down on our arm intensely. Feeling emotional pain like sadness and its cousins of regret, betrayal, and loss is difficult. Acknowledging our emotions takes practice, being careful not to hold on to them in some act of self-punishment. It is an emotion, it will not kill us as much as it may seem it will. Its effect lessens the more we practice holding it in our palm.

How can we be free again? One of the best ways to cope when the weight of sadness is too much is to share our burdens with another trusted person. “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” Gal. 6:2. Listening, supporting, and sharing are all apart of Christ’s gospel. It is love in action. To truly be there for someone is an unselfish act, transcending ourselves and our needs to bear another’s when the weight is too great.

It can be hard to share, especially when we do not feel like being around others. Sadness can isolate and its inertia is strong. Who can we talk to? Do we wish to burden them? We have to be honest with ourselves when sadness gets too great for us and reach out to whom comes to mind. Once together, the words may not come right away. We may stumble and grasp for meaning and coherence. We may just begin to cry. There is no wrong way to do this, being in the presence of another person willing to listen has it’s own presence and healing.

Perhaps we cannot talk to another person yet, what else can we do? We can write our experience upon paper or into a computer. There is a catharsis in getting your feelings and experience out. It is like leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs, the words leading the reader to our hearts. It is making a mark upon this world, and existential statement that shouts “I am here and this is my experience!” Our journals become a meandering path in which each step, each page, our walk becomes lighter.

Prayer and meditation are also useful tools in dealing with sadness. Crying out to God in the tradition of the Psalms is a wonderful and private way of sorting through our experience. We shout “WHY!?” and “Where where you!?” The waves of our being crash upon the cliffs of eternity. We wrestle with our outrage, our regrets, and our brokenness before God, who is rich in steadfast love and mercy. We may get an epiphany, or a new way of looking at our life–sometimes we may not. Simply expressing ourselves is a proven release of pent up pain.

Meditation can bring us back to the present, centering us in our baseline experience. It helps resolve our pain, listening for a different view of our sadness. “Perhaps we hurt today, but we were thankful for the time we did have together” we might say. “That is the old me, I have learned so much” is also a good way to reconcile the past. Deep, even breathing, repeating scriptures of comfort, listening to that still, small voice, sitting as Mary at the feet of Jesus can offer a transcendent and healing experience. It doesn’t always work, so it requires discipline to make progress. We cannot “make” God work, but we can ask and put ourselves in the position to listen.

We turn our ears to the music of the world. Many a sad song have been written and performed. There is a shared experience when we listen to a talented artist sing about their pain. Music wraps itself around our whole person; mind, body, and soul. We get goosebumps, we get inspired, our minds filled with imagery. We hear the pain of another and know someone else has felt as we do. Or perhaps there is a song that lifts us out of sadness? We can tire of dwelling in the mire of our dark night of the soul, seeking an old familiar song or hymn that fills us with hope or at least makes us smile. Music is a powerful tool to help deal with sadness, one often overlooked but not to be taken lightly.

Eventually even the sound of sadness can become a melody. We harmonize our experience, our emotions, and our greater wisdom. We find ways of learning from our past, or celebrating the time we did have. We can resolve to be better. Our pain becomes a testimony of healing and victory meant to help another with their sadness. Our sadness can become a tool to lift another out of their dark time. We share our experience and empathize with another, bringing healing to the speaker and the listener. How wonderful it becomes when our sad song can become a song of survival, victory, or lessons learned!?