Deep, ineffable loss creates a chasm within, one inhabited by a strange, slithering, relentlessly writhing serpent known as agony.
This agony is a being of dual nature: ancient and new, primordial and futuristic, long-gone and soon-to-exist. It is an amalgamation of all that ever was and all that will ever be. Wounds scabbed over and those not quite healed are re-opened. Losses incurred and those yet to come hover nearby. Things dead and those soon-to-be-gone but not quite yet away whisper in the background of the mind.
Loss parts the sea of the soul, makes room for the refugees of the past, the experiences and moments of life that both kill us and make us stronger. It reminds us of the things we thought had disappeared but had merely been made quiet by time, still dwelling within and requiring the healing touch of sorrow.
In the wake of that sorrow, loss elucidates the mechanics of the important things: the value of listening as opposed to being heard. The beauty of silent reception in the face of desperation. The gift of humility in the face of need. The generosity of hoping for others more often than we do for the self.
Loss brings us closer to softness, nearer to kindness and forgiveness. Loss, which no doubt destroys, also creates anew.
The pain of loss is powerful. It is demanding. It is raw and blunt.
It is also the only way up.