The Book of Joy

She eagerly agreed, but then the Buddha explained that the mustard seeds
needed to come from a house that had not been touched by death. When
the woman visited each house in search of the mustard seeds that might
heal her son, she discovered that there was no house that had not suffered
the loss of a parent, or a spouse, or a child. Seeing that her suffering was
not unique, she was able to bury her child in the forest and release her
grief.
My friend Gordon Wheeler, who is a psychologist, explains that grief
is the reminder of the depth of our love. Without love, there is no grief.
So when we feel our grief, uncomfortable and aching as it may be, it is
actually a reminder of the beauty of that love, now lost. I’ll never forget
calling Gordon while I was traveling, and hearing him say that he was out
to dinner by himself after the loss of a dear friend “so he could feel his
grief.” He knew that in the blinking and buzzing world of our lives, it is
so easy to delete the past and move on to the next moment. To linger in
the longing, the loss, the yearning is a way of feeling the rich and
embroidered texture of life, the torn cloth of our world that is endlessly
being ripped and rewoven.