I write a lot about loss, for it is a central theme for me this lifetime. Nevertheless, I also write about the gain inherent in loss. For there is gain. Not for the personality but for the soul involved in the loss.
I like to think I was born into this world with a job to do, one that would serve both me and my fellowman. Not a big one, just a job tailor-made for me by higher powers.
A dear friend writes to say that she lost her husband. I can relate to her since I have been widowed a number of years now. I know both the pitfalls and blessings that will come after such a loss. Yes, there are blessings. I found myself able to rest as much as I liked. Able to cocoon as much as I needed. Able to draw the curtain around the wounded psyche in order for it to heal. Able to ignore the world and focus on the spirit (and this helped the world, believe me).
Now when I move out into the world, I pray to leave a spiritual footprint rather than a worldly one. I learned this the hard way, by tromping around with hobnail boots when barefoot would have served me better.
Now sometimes I hardly touch the ground. Have to pull myself back into four-square reality.
And now Leonard Cohen leaves us with an image of the hummingbird, such a perfect one for life without him.
He counsels us to listen to the right influences, those that arise so lightly they barely register on our consciousness.
They are the ones, they are the ones.