Why does loss hurt so bad? You are at ground zero in loss. As you look around, you realize the world is zooming by as though nothing has changed, yet there you are. Your entire world has come crashing down and not a soul in the world understands how fragile life is and that it can be taken from you in an instant.
The early stages of loss hurt so damn bad because most of us live our lives without embodiment or awareness. We might look like we are awake, but the external world is what is guiding our daily actions, causing us to live our lives based on the needs of others and trying to avoid past failures. When we aren’t fully awake, we aim to please and be loved. We live our lives attempting to become what we think people want us to be. But, when you experience a soul-crushing loss like death, your world immediately separates itself. You may have spent so many years trying to be the “good” version of yourself, but death and loss push you outside those boundaries, ostracizing you from the outside world.
While the rest of the world is still unawake and unaware, this type of loss has required your brain to stay in the present. This may even feel like an out-of-body experience, but it’s actually embodiment that you’ve never felt before. The world is rushing by, and you are standing still. It hurts so bad because you realize in this massive loss that you have been living your life in a sleepwalking state, focusing on all of the things outside of your deepest truth and self. You immediately understand that the world and you are separate. You see what matters in life.
If you have experienced death, you’ve run out of time with a person you are deeply connected to and you recognize how much you missed by living in an unawakened state. The pain of having this newly enlightened understanding becomes physical and you begin to experience what we call “grief.” When we look at grief from this enlightenment perspective, we can understand that massive loss is a duality of deaths. Internally you die — the old you, the one that was pursuing validation from the external world. You won’t even recognize yourself. So begins the secondary losses that shape who you will become. People who needed you to be something other than yourself will naturally migrate away from you post-death. This much vulnerability will be too hard for them. They might even be afraid that by being around you, death will come knocking at their door.
From death also comes life. You can’t go backwards and fix what’s happened, but you can begin to turn inward and connect with the real you. The loss of your person, your identity and the people around you gives you a unique opportunity to rebuild your life, birthing your truest self out into the world. Your journey can begin with a simple question — “Who am I?” I recommend standing in front of a mirror and literally asking yourself that question. Once you’ve spent a few days with that question, ask yourself, “Where do I feel alive?” Come back to this practice every day and write down how your answers evolve as you get to know yourself on a more intimate level.
As you continue this journey, your heart will become your compass. You will trust your body rather than the constant chatter happening in your mind. Your body will start to tell you “I feel safe here. I feel at peace here. I feel connected here.” It’s from this point that you can truly begin to practice self-love. The early stages of self-love begin when you trust in your ability to find places, people, and energy that are safe and loving and allow you to be fully you. When you go against your truth, you will find yourself back in the drowning waves of grief, and you will be fighting for air. You might drink too many glasses of wine or indulge in other destructive behaviors to numb the pain. These are the moments when it’s most important to come back to the question, “Who am I?” You can’t sleepwalk through life when you have been enlightened to what it means to live in truth and purpose. On this journey, you will try and fail to live authentically plenty of times. You will lose friends and family. But, eventually, the pain of losing everything will feel less like drowning and more like peace. You will make new friends, have renewed energy and everything you do will come from a place of authenticity. You will always grieve the past – that’s a given after a huge loss – but you won’t shy away from the pain but rather embrace it and how it helped you become more alive than you’ve ever been. You’ll honor losses and the fragility of life without letting that fragility break you. We learn that shattering is where the healing begins, and when we choose to heal, we will be able to love ourselves fiercely until our time comes.