JANUARY 30
Healing is impossible in loneliness; it is the opposite of
loneliness. Conviviality is healing. To be healed we must
come with all the other creatures to the feast of Creation.
—WENDELL BERRYThese are hard words to hear, because often when we are
grieving, our impulse is to withdraw from other people.
There they are, carrying on their ordinary lives when my world
has fallen apart. How can they understand? Besides, my sadness
will make them uncomfortable, won’t it?
We will need times of solitude, of course, to be with our
thoughts, to take the measure of our grief, to rest. But there
is little comfort in being alone, and we need to resume our
place in the human family, to realize we are not the center
of the world, to let ourselves be enfolded in the loving care
of friends.
If there are people who are uncomfortable with our sad-
ness, we can move on. Or if we are brave, we can acknow-
ledge the situation: “I realize I’m not a bundle of cheer right
now. But I needed to get out and be with people.”
Often this will put other people at ease. The situation was
awkward mostly because the unspoken thought hung in the
air but was not mentioned—like a stranger who comes to a
party and is never introduced.
Sometimes it is hard for me to go into groups. But my connections
to other people are the flow of life to me.