“The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.”
-from One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
if losing is an art, I am surely the artist most void of grace and skill. 20 years in, I don’t feel any better at letting go of things, or accepting losses I had no say in. It’s a new kind of difficult, every time. The reality of loss is that while it is not comfortable, it cannot be stopped and it will not be subdued. We are going to lose people, ideas, things, and dreams, until we take our very last breath. Is that final breath the biggest loss of all? The loss of a potential future, of love to be had and given, of existence? or is death only the end of an endless cycle of loss, finally brought to a halt, leaving only memories of things lost?
this week, I’ve spent a lot of time looking at old pictures, and reflecting on the things that were so important that I no longer need, or even think about. Songs I’ve forgotten the words to, and horses that I’m not sure are still breathing, and people that have new plans I’m not included in - relics of forgotten struggles. needing people or things or animals is not wrong; it can’t be. There are holes in our souls that require patching before healing, and sometimes what we need is found in other places. And it is okay. There are creatures and words that I can say with confidence changed or saved my life, because I needed them. I recognize and appreciate the place that they had, the things they did, but I cannot say I even completely understand why losing those things was necessary.
often in hindsight, the necessity of something is easily brought into question. If I don’t need it now, did I ever really need it? It seems so bizarre the way that I can hardly remember some things that used to be so special - or the way that after a period of mourning, the loss begins to fade until it is only the occasional fondly recalled thought. I’m not sure how it’s possible to love things so much, to want or need them fiercely, and then to eventually no longer think about them. Maybe that’s just outgrowing a proverbial shell, moving into the next phase of life, requiring new things and support. Thinking of the magnitude of loss in even a short lifetime is mentally crushing, and sometimes the idea of all the things I have yet to lose is more than I can or want to comprehend.
Losing things is really never fun, it can make you really angry, or cripplingly sad, or frighteningly aware of your own personhood. Things are never just things, and people aren’t just people. Everything that affects a life is somehow attached to an idea of a future, of a tomorrow, of what it means to be alive in the current moment. If something matters, it cannot be simply because it exists. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, because beautiful things are those that just happen to make your heartstrings sing an oddly recognizable tune, as if it’s been playing softly in the background of your dreams for a while. In loss, we lose a part of our song, and everything feels quiet. Starkly, disgustingly quiet. But we get up, and even if something else isn’t playing your heart song, anyone can play the tambourine, and that can make for a pretty good jig.
the pain of losing should not make us afraid to love, as wildly and freely as we possibly can. we should throw kindness and compassion around like confetti, being sure to leave a trail everywhere we go. we should be willing to embrace what comes to us, and to march to the song being played on our hearts.
we have to believe that there are an endless number of good things waiting to happen, and that things are always conspiring to bring us what we need - even if it cannot stay.
the art of losing is hard to master, but loss is not a disaster. inhale, exhale, appreciate - because painful loss can only exist in the wake of beautiful presence. past curtain calls should never distract us from the current dance.
& the show must go on.
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
origamiaround
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
pixelskylines
