You can be happy for another’s joy while grieving your own losses.
I say this for myself. Because it bears repeating, and we all need to take time to state our beliefs. If for no other reason than reminding ourselves why–and that we do–believe them.
I believe you can be happy for another’s joy while grieving your own losses.
I also say it for many people I know, to remind them of their own bravery (What else do you call confronting the fear of what you don’t have with a square hit to the jaw? To place your empty want in the direct path of a fully acknowledged, undodged, invited blow, slam-packed full of abundance that is not yours? To tilt your chin away from that huge hole of nothing, to look past yourself to those you love who have wanted and waited, to dance for their wish fulfilled?).
Be happy. Grieve.
The heart is big enough for both extremes, and designed with articulated apartments to handle it all. We are given separate spaces, enough to hold others within us, enough to steady the tremble while we dance.
Why do you suppose chambers but to allow sanctioned, barest minimal intermingling of joy and grief, or anger and relief? There are door sills that stumble entry, shades shut tight, curtains between when needed. But it’s all there. Contained. One beating muscle that makes us.