[lumberjim]

As I re listen to the power of now, I'm realizing that the huge pill of grief analogy is quite wrong.

That mountain of grief I felt I needed to process one shard at a time. No. Just seeing it as external is the beginning of realizing that it is not me. Looking into the future with dread, how long will I grieve? Will I forever be the guy whose daughter killed herself? Daunting.

But the truth is, I'm just me. In this moment, I'm calm and safe. If my mind slides back to memories or forward to dread, there's the pain. Separate from who I am. It's as easy as recognizing that those concerns are not myself. I'm the observer of those feelings. Insulated at will by the mere observation of the pain. As soon as I see it, it evaporates. There is no pill. Unless I feed the pain.

I've felt the pain of the loss, felt the dread of days to come with her removed. I've cried and fallen down. Do I want more pain? No.

My pain wants more pain. I am not my pain.

I'm just me.