Bittersweet
In Japan, celebrations unfold when the Sakura, cherry blossoms, grace the land. Although there are equally beautiful spring blooms, Sakura reigns favourite because of its brief stay. These fleeting petals evoke a feeling called "mono-no-aware," A deep sorrow intertwined with the knowledge of impermanence.
It's bittersweet.
The lessons of bittersweetness remind us that agony accompanies joy, and despair walks hand in hand with inspiration.
Life would be easier without pain, more bearable without heartbreak. Yet it would be muted, its meaning diminished.
It's time to reframe our perspective on moving forward from grief. Those in mourning are often told to "let go," to "find closure," or to accept that "life is for the living."
But what if, instead of trying to deny grief and bury it under throwaway words. We focused on our incredible capacity to carry it with us through life, standing strong under its gravity?
For we will carry this weight. With grit.
Our aching hearts honour those we've lost. Our sorrow speaks volumes about their importance.
Not everything unfolds within some grand plan; not everything is a lesson learned. Pain, abuse, and death can be painfully senseless and heartbreakingly unfair. We didn't choose to be strong; strength was thrust upon us. We didn't seek bravery; it was THE only path.
But we will survive, though endurance alone isn't our goal. We will thrive, much like the Sakura, blooming in its time. Some days, we'll shine in full power, while others, we'll rest as long as needed, for as long as it takes.
There's no love without loss, no sweetness without bitterness.
