Surrendering Into Heartache and Loss

 

I am a filament

I am finite

Please give me the credit

For transmuting a portion of the potion

Of your pain.

You are not out there anymore,

You are also not in here.

I find my way in the dark alone.

I recall you as a lamp post

In a damp late night sky.

I recall myself as a half-finished drink on a highly polished bar around 12 am (318) (655)

Life seems so far away now,

Lying here on the frozen floor.

And I cut this root out of me,

At 7 pm on a Wednesday night, weeks later.

And now we unwind, falling away from each other

With no words.

It hurts.

The knife wound from here is deep. Deep and coloured darkly black blue.

I die.

I mourn.

I know now, I will never see you again

I will never be the same again.

 

 

January of 2019 brought with her arrival a painful ending of relationship that I had so hoped not to endure the loss of in my life.

As I packed and moved my things and headed back to the wintry, frozen forest away from my beloved sea, I realized I had a choice. I could approach this visceral ending in an open, empowered way. Allowing it to heal me from the core, travelling the lines on my body back to original childhood wounds related to abandonment, betrayal, rejection, and loss of selfhood, or I could build a wall that would cut me off from life itself.

We often start on a spiritual path in order to feel better. We think at times that the point of the work on the path is so that we don’t have to feel pain again, that we can transcend it if we work hard enough.

But the point of this human experience is to feel, to grow, to expand, and to evolve. Part of how that happens is through the visceral experience of heartache and loss. Nothing stays constant, it is always changing. We don’t have to stay trapped in the painful feelings, but we do have to feel them, allow them to move through us and to transform us. We have to make the choice to know ourselves, to hold space for ourselves and to choose growth not fear.

Feeling and being, not running and avoiding and narcotizing ourselves from the pain is intense. It is scary. It fucking hurts. Yet, this time at 34 years old, I am not running from it. I am diving into the deepest layers of myself and my fears and pain, and I will share how I find my way through this. Like the beloved Hermit in tarot, I will hold a light up in the darkness, for myself, and for those who find their way to my door.

In the end, all of these experiences that we have are opportunities for us to love ourselves and align more closely to our authenticity.  We can process the pain of heartache and loss with our guides, and deity, with our connection to the Divine, reaching out to loved ones and most of all by loving ourselves fearlessly, madly, deeply.

I will have videos up on the channel soon, in the meantime thank you for your patience as I make my way through this deep heartache.

Much Love and Many Blessings,

Raecine

Poetry is by me, Raecine Ardis Wilkinson and remains mine. All rights reserved. img_5334

5 thoughts on “Surrendering Into Heartache and Loss

  1. Your post on heartache and pain has meshed so beautifully with my current reading of “The Untethered Soul “ in which he talks about breathing in the pain – pulling into and through your heart – in order to process it and let it go. I’m sorry that your relationship has “ended” but I thank you for being brave enough to share. Many blessings – I look forward to your next post. Mindy

    Like

  2. Thank you for sharing your journey through this deep loss dear Raecine. Sending you much love, courage and wisdom (of which you have plenty already)! Anna

    Like

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