“The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.”
By KL Burd | October 27, 2021 |
When day comes, we ask ourselves:
Where can we find light
In this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.
Amanda Gorman
The Hill We Climb
Anyone who has ever walked through tough times can tell you that light isn’t always easy to find. Tough times can either make us or break us, but we exist in the in-between for the longest part of the journey.
When we lose something we love — whether it be a job, a lover, a friend, or a family member — we are thrust into a world for which there is no simple escape.
We exist between the tough times and the breaking or strengthening of our backs. Either outcome arrives without warning, signifying an unexpected end to our pain. It creeps up on you and pounces like a cat preying on an unsuspecting mouse.
Loss is a strange thing.
It has perplexed us forever. We can’t understand it, yet we must. We can’t fully grasp it, yet it sits with us daily.
Death, in the same regard, cannot be conquered, yet we feel the need to somehow overcome it. But even in the overcoming of it, we never defeat it… we simply learn how to move forward with it.
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.
For me, loss has always created a need for escape; a place to exist as my soul decides whether to strengthen or break. I lost my brother at a young age, I’ve lost former students, I’ve lost jobs that I loved, but it wasn’t until I lost my dad did the world come crashing down. The man I thought was invincible was vulnerable to kryptonite. Just like we all are. For him it was his heart. For you it may have been a family member with cancer, or the foreclosure of your house, or the divorce you didn’t see coming.
It was here — tossed into the sea — that I turned to the one thing I knew could be mine and mine alone: writing.
I didn’t know the outcome, and I didn’t know if it would be helpful or harmful, but I knew that I needed someplace to go so that the sea didn’t overtake me.
Writing had been a distant thought in the long-forgotten woods of childhood — something I always dreamed of doing and never fully committed to. But, after the death of my father, it became my solace… my refuge… a place to hide from the pain… and the vehicle by which I could move through the pain.
So many of us have been… there. In that moment of pain where life is gray and the colors are muted. The world stops spinning, and the sun refuses to rise, and in those moments we have an option — especially for those of us who call words our craft, our love — to let the pain flow through our words.
Writing through the pain gives our pain power, but it also takes away the sting. It gives us reality yet hope hangs on the end of every period. It makes the pain, the loss, the grief, the death… real. Yet it also removes the shame.
It displays the fear, and in the moment you transfer that fear to paper, courage enters your soul. The moment you decide that tough times will not break you, will not shatter you, will not eviscerate you — you win.
Your victory is not because you conquered your pain but because you set it free. You refused to hold it in, to let it only exist in your head and heart. The power to transfer pain to paper is a magical thing. We can’t fully understand it but we know it works. It has worked for millennia, preserving the stories of old. It has given us our heroes and shown us tragedies. It has helped us through the good times and lifted us through the bad.
You belong to the long line of scribes who write their pain and in doing so, free not only themselves, but others.
For me, this is true freedom. The pain may still be felt in your heart and the emotions may match your pain but it can’t hold you captive. It can’t keep you silent. It can’t dictate your state of being.
Ms. Gorman ends her poem by saying,
There is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it, if only we’re brave enough to be it.
Be brave enough to write through your pain. Be brave enough to set yourself free.
How has writing helped you push through hard times? Do you have any fears around writing through your pain? Has someone else’s writing ever help set you free?
KL Burd (he/him) is a YA Speculative Fiction Author and Educator living in Austin, Texas with his wonderful wife and two amazing boys. As a former teacher and coach, KL thrives on helping individuals reach their full potential, especially young and upcoming writers. Sign up for his newsletter to connect on all things writing. KL writes fiction so that underrepresented kids, especially young Black boys and girls, can see themselves in every type of story imaginable.
Thank you for this, it is very timely in my life.
You’re welcome, Paul.
Finding Solace I this.
Beautifully written. Spoken with a tender heart. Encourage yourself daily, for you’re worthy. Out of our pain comes our passion, comes out purpose. Thank you for reminding us.
Thank you, Pamela.
Eloquent and inspiring.Thank you.
Writing is an affirmative act. It is medicine. It is armor. It is faith. It is power. It is the one thing that no one can take away from us. It is the one thing that can survive us.
When I write I am no victim, I am not in pain, I am no one’s puppet, I am only and entirely me: alive, in charge, loving, creative and free.
John Updike wrote poems as he was dying and I understand why. I will never stop writing. It is good to know I’m not alone. Thanks for this post and write on, my friends.
Sometimes the act of writing is what breaks me open. By going deep, being brave, I’ve unearthed some very old darkness and exposed it to the light. Other writers have also given me that gift, and their courage is not lost on me. Thanks for a timely and beautiful post.
Thank you for this wise post, and for reminding me of Amanda Gorman’s poem.
Jane Smiley wrote about the Age of Grief, something we all come to eventually, a loss from which we never recover. Writing poetry was what saw me through the worst of it, when I couldn’t write fiction.
Grief is something we carry alone, yet there is comfort in the words and presence of others.
What an apt comment, Barbara about grief we carry alone, yet find comfort in the words and presence of others. That has been so true for me these past almost ten years of one loss after another.
Lovely and true. I needed this today. Thank you.
Thank you for your heartfelt meditation. I would add to writing as a support and blessing to those in pain that it’s a great advantage to reach old age as a writer. Everyone does well to exercise, but ultimately the body stops paying it back or forward. It just doesn’t. But we know–it’s not guesswork or wishful thinking–that those who remain engaged with the life of the mind fair far better than those who don’t. And nothing engages like focused attention applied to work-in-progress.
Well said. I sure do hope you’re right.
Thank you. Lovely heartfelt post. Time to re-frame and transform grief.
Writing is my joy. It has healed me, helped me understand the world a little better, but most of all, brought me to the foot of the Cross. Jesus! I pray always for my writing to bring others closer to Christ just as so many writers before me have. I think of CS Lewis, and what a profoundly beautiful book he wrote: Surprised by Joy. His Mere Christianity remains a favorite. Thank you for your words. God bless you.
Thanks so much for the inspiring post. I especially liked: “So many of us have been… there. In that moment of pain where life is gray and the colors are muted. The world stops spinning, and the sun refuses to rise, and in those moments we have an option — especially for those of us who call words our craft, our love — to let the pain flow through our words.”
I’ve had many losses in my life in the past ten years, my father, my husband, my mother, my sister, beloved pets, a home that I loved…. I wrote through them all, as I couldn’t ignore the loss and the aftermath. For years I wrote a personal column for newspapers, so my inclination to write the personal stuff is always strong. I do think that process has helped me move forward. Not “over” it, as I don’t think we ever get over deep loss and grief, but we learn how to have a life after the loss.
I’m listening to Every Last One by Anna Quindlin and that story deals with great loss. The central character reflects that she can’t buy anything after the loss of many in her family because that would mean she is starting to have a life “after.” She isn’t ready for after yet. Very telling thought.
Hi Maryann,
I’m so sorry for your losses. You’re so right… we never “get over” it but learning to move forward is so helpful.
Thank you, KL. Your words touched me, in particular because I have lost 6 people in the last year and a half, one of them a very close friend, and another my mother, my greatest writing influence.
I have been intermittently numb for portions of this time, but writing about my mother helped, as did some reading of loss and its impacts, which in these times has been broad and tragic.
Oh man, Tom. That’s so hard. That numbness is real. May you find solace in any new writing that you do.
Thank you for this, KL. Writing has always been a source of personal joy and emotional relief for me. I realized years ago my writing is the one thing about me in which I’m 100% confident. I discovered journal writing nearly four decades ago and have found that to be extremely therapeutic. I’m currently enduring one of the toughest periods of my life I’ve ever encountered. Writing in my journal and working on various story projects helps me relieve the stress of all that madness.
What a beautiful post, thank you. And I’m sorry for the loss of your father.
This line struck me especially, as lovely and profound:
“Your victory is not because you conquered your pain but because you set it free.”
Rest in Peace, KL. You will be missed xxx
May your memory be a blessing as your words have been a blessing for so many here. ❤️
K.L.,
Sadly, you may be gone but your exquisite words will live forever and help others enduring loss. That’s a beautiful legacy to leave.
Rest In Peace to my brother! A true King that spoke with his pen, heart, and life experience.. Your life reflection was one of hope determination and purity! Forever change not just my life but how I live it.