As is the case with many of life’s experiences, we can’t fully grasp something until we live through it ourselves. This is particularly true for moments of great transformation. Whether they be joyful, (falling in love, achieving a lofty goal, creating new life) or heartbreaking (going through a divorce, losing your job, the passing of a loved one). The ups and downs take us on an emotional roller coaster and though we may understand intellectually that each of these moments is fleeting and impermanent, the challenging, painful (“duḥkha”) experiences, can feel like they linger or persist, while the happy, joyful (“sukha”) moments can seem to fly by.
When my sister passed away after a nearly 6-year long battle with brain cancer I was overcome with profound sadness and grief. My therapist told me, “The grief will last as long as the love.” and my first thought was “Oh no! That means forever!” As I sat with and contemplated what she said, it began to make total sense, because the sadness and grief are reflections of the joy and love I will always have for her. They are in fact 2 halves of a whole, 2 sides of a coin, that together they make up the fullness of human experience. If there had not been love, there would not have been sadness.
With the loss of my sister, I also discovered that there was a sum of losses; the loss of the many roles she played in my life: mentor, confidante, supporter and friend, as well as the loss of all the qualities that she brought out in me. Not only did I lose her, but who I got to be when I was with her. She was my guru in that way; inspiring me to reach my highest potential and helping me remember my truest self. And so, in times of loss we grieve not only the person, relationship, job, or dream, but also part of our identity (a sister, a husband, a doctor, a future Olympian). There’s the initial blow that can really turn our world upside-down, which eventually fades with time… Yet every now and again, like a saṁskāra, it can resurface at unexpected moments. It is during these waves of emotion that one might recall one of the wisdom teachings of the great Sage Patañjali: vitarka-bādhane pratipakṣa-bhāvanam – “When the mind is disturbed, contemplate on the opposite.”
This does not mean attempting to replace the “negative” emotion or thought with its opposite, but rather holding space for both to co-exist. Acknowledging the sadness while recognizing the joy that it represents, that other or opposite side of the coin. This teaching can help us remember that the feeling is temporary, that its opposite can be present simultaneously, and ultimately, it can allow us to shift our perception from one to the other. Rather than being weighed down and overcome by the emotion, taking a step back to see both ends of the spectrum, observing how they are related to one another, seeing this as a doorway to practice compassion towards ourselves and to cultivate grace, receptivity, space and ease. This in turn will grow our capacity to extend compassion while allowing space for grace towards others.
Without going through the lows of life, how can we truly appreciate or even recognize the highs? Without setbacks, what would fuel our hopes and aspirations? And without experiencing grief and sorrow, how can we be fully present and receptive to these same emotions in someone else? As Manorama once said, “The one who experiences loss has much to gain.” From sadness, an appreciation for joy. From life’s obstacles, optimism. From grief, empathy. The depth of our joy, the source of our hope and the expansiveness of our compassion may very well reside in our ability to move through and transform grief and loss. And perhaps, in time, we may come to terms with, and strangely even begin to “love” our grief, recognizing it as love in a different form.
