I watch my 4yo daughter grieve many things…not getting the exact amount of requested honey on her oatmeal, not being able to wear her favorite blue striped dress because it’s in the wash, and her parents not living in the same house.
This is one experience of grief. One very much infused with privilege. And it is grief.
What if our grief was honored and acknowledged from the time we are born? What if we learned that grief was part of being alive? What if we could grow up able to express the fullness of our pain? And what if this pain wasn’t met with immediate cause for concern or diminishment?
What if our grief was met with a compassionate acknowledgement of hard truths…we cannot get everything we want, life is so brutally unfair, privilege provides access to different amounts of grief and what is grieved, and terrible things happen and might not always have a reason?
I believe this would allow for us to better tolerate our own pain. And in having greater tolerance for our pain, we would have greater access to our own strength, resilience, courage, and joy.
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