Positive Grief

So many people loved Jay Rivera. Of all the many humbling experiences of my life, being on the receiving end of so many heartfelt questions and messages in his behalf, has to be tops. I am sure that he never dreamed that he had touched so many lives in such positive ways. It was always easier somehow for him to focus on his faults, and discount his virtues.

This Sunday, as the giant snow flakes fell in Alaska and I quietly wondered if this winter is ever going to end, I sought my own comfort. I have been working my way through Book 8 of the 22 volumes of the Zohar for the past year. It is a daunting enterprise and you never know what is going to leap out at you and into your life. Imagine my surprise when today's offering was specifically about grief?

What, I wondered, can this ancient Hebrew text tell me about grief that I haven't heard or experienced already? Plenty.

When we "cry" to God, we are using words, speaking words in prayer, but when we "wail" we go beyond words, into the silent realm where God comes closest to us, and the pain in our hearts tells all. No words required. No poetry. No songs. Just the ache and the tears are more powerful than all the other forms of prayer. The pain in a small child's heart because her coach is no longer here, is mighty in the realm of God.

What a concept. God doesn't need ears. And we don't need words. Our feelings are what matter.

Even more surprising, there is such a thing as positive grief! Unconsciously, I was touching on that in my last blog. Negative grief is when you let the darkness win, count Jay's life as a loss, get depressed and cynical, think that there is nothing you can do. Positive grief is when you open up and kick the darkness in the butt.

Remember Jay. Pray for him in your heart, without words. Let your feelings roll--your grief, your joy, everything you feel. All of it. Give it to God.

Then, choose what you, personally, are going to do. I have my communion with Jay each day as I clean the house, affirming his joy in cleanliness and order, bringing more of that into the world. Each one of us can find him in our hearts and do something positive for his sake on an ongoing basis. Funeral flowers aren't in it. Once-in-a-lifetime-and-good-bye won't do it. Coming up with a silly joke each day is more like it. It takes grit and determination to convert grief into something positive, but it is what we need to do.

I was on the road of compassion a long time before I knew Jay, but I almost let fear and social conventions stand in the way of caring about and trying to help him. I know now, for sure, that nothing should stand in our way. Next time I see someone struggling with alcohol, I won't hide. Next time I see a teenager in trouble with it, it's going to be Jay Rivera's hand on his neck as much as mine.

Take all those words you wished you had said to Jay, all the good deeds that didn't happen, and guess what? There'll be an occasion when those words are needed again, and the good deeds, too. So, forget your regrets. Say the words and do the deeds. Make the grief positive. There are many ways to turn misery on its head. Let's do it!