Present: (v) to make (something) available to be used or considered; (obs) attentive;
(adj) not past or future, existing or happening now; (n) a gift
Doing this kind of work always leads to a period of swirling thoughts. I've been thinking a lot about how difficult it is to be present with people in grief. Why is that? What I'm learning from those with the experience to teach it, is that in order to truly be with someone in grief, you have to be willing to tune in to your own pain and sadness. Who wants to do that?? No one! But the people who can do it are the ones who are not afraid. I don't know if it's because they are brave, or better informed, or what. They seem to understand that experiencing their own grief and sharing the grief of others is not a threat to their happiness. The two can co-exist. As Gibran tells us about sorrow and joy in one of my favourite poems, they are inseparable. When either sorrow or joy is with us, the other is never far away. It's both sobering and a reason to hope.
Part of me thinks, "Oh great." Another part thinks, "Bring it."