Once upon a time, there were two sisters. Their names were Joy and Sorrow. Together they lived in a beautiful heart-shaped home, full of color and magic. Joy was the entertainer, loving to host lavish parties, spending time with family and friends, going on grand adventures around the world. For many years, Sorrow was more of a solitary sort; content to be the homebody, preferring to be working quietly in the garden or curled up on a comfy couch with a good book. Naturally, tragedies were her favorite.
Joy was outgoing and ebullient, curious, childlike, and a hopeless romantic and flirt. She loved to learn, to teach, to play, and to sing. She loved to meet new people and spend time with her friends and family. Romantic relationships were easy for her, but though she found a few long-term partnerships, she rarely held anything too tightly. When something was ready to end, she accepted it, and the lessons she learned from these relationships, gracefully.
They lived most of their lives in this way, Joy almost always at the forefront to welcome anyone who cared to visit, keeping the home a place of magic and happiness. But in their early adulthood, there came a time when their grandmothers died. Their grandmothers and an aunt were the only truly nurturing family the sisters had, and Joy did not know how to accept this devastating loss. For nearly a year, Joy all but disappeared into Sorrows’ comforting arms.
Over the years, the sisters would encounter other losses and occasionally, cousins such as grief, anger and resentment would show up on their doorstep, wishing to be entertained. Joy learned that the key to happiness when these visitors came was to allow Sorrow to handle these encounters; she was far more adept at managing difficult relatives. When these relatives went back to their homes, having been honored as was necessary, Joy was able to come back into the fullness of herself and her home, having grand adventures, learning voraciously, flirting outrageously, and entertaining with ease, even through difficult times.
All the while, Life watched from a distance, sending these unwanted relatives and experiences to the sisters to help them to grow. One day, he decided that he wanted to truly challenge the sisters. So he began to take people from their life that they loved deeply. He first took their aunt, who had been the sister’s surrogate mother for much of their lives. Next was the youngest of their two brothers, then their beloved pet, and finally, one of joy’s best friends. Through all of these trials, Joy held her space, allowing Sorrow to fill the home with her presence, even inviting Grief to stay for brief periods, but always found herself again with relative ease. Life saw this, frowning, as he thought it impossible for her to continue to shine so brightly, even as tragedy after tragedy struck. So he caused floods that destroyed parts of her property, took her favorite pets, some of her best friends, and even her career. She and sorrow walked hand in hand through it all, yet somehow she continued to live up to her name.
Life had nearly given up on his quest to challenge the sisters. He turned his back, intending to find other, more interesting experiences he could bring to people; but a realization struck him. There was only one thing the sisters had not experienced. True love. Romantic love. A soulmate.
You see, Sorrow had never been especially interested in relationships, and Joy held everything so lightly that, though she loved many people deeply, she didn’t really know that there was a deeper love that could happen between two unrelated people. She didn’t know that it was possible not just to love someone, but fall deeply in love with that person. Joy loved science. She loved to understand the mind, and knowing the structure and chemistry of the brain, the notion of a Soulmate did not fit into her understanding of the world.
And so he sent her perfect match; Love. The first time that they met, there was a clear chemistry and connection between them, inspiring her curiosity. They began to spend time together, developing a friendship as they learned about each other during long walks, longer cups of coffee and glasses of wine, having meaningful conversations about myriad subjects that sparked Joy’s mind and filled her heart. These encounters with Love evolved from a natural and easy friendship into something much deeper. Joy experienced a connection with him that was so profound that it shocked her. When they were together, her heart felt that it was Home. It was natural in a way that she had never experienced before. In a way that she did not know was possible. The way it felt to kiss him, to dance with him, to sing with him, and just to be fully together, hearts connected, caused her to fall so deeply in love that parts of her soul peeled away just to be closer to him; to stay connected to him even when they were apart. She knew that she wanted to share her heart-shaped home with Love. That she wanted to share a life with him.
But there were myriad complications to the relationship, and Love, as it turned out, had many other interests – and so they parted. Joy’s mind accepted this as the best course of action, but soon, her heart caught up to the break, and the shock of the loss was so great that she lost herself. She forgot her identity as Joy. Sorrow held her, hoping to provide comfort as Joy took to her bed, burying herself deep beneath her down comforters. Soon after, Grief came to stay, taking turns with Sorrow next to the mound of Joy-shaped blankets that refused to move, to eat, to sing, or even to breathe.
When it became apparent that Joy was no longer inhabiting her own body, Sorrow was forced to create a Joy-shaped mask, stepping into the role of her light-hearted sister, as well. It was Sorrow who pulled Joy, quiet and limp, along on parties, adventures, and even dates, hoping that some incredible experience would wake her sister up, but without Joy’s curiosity, interest and effervescence, the experiences felt empty.
It was Sorrow who spent time with friends and family, masquerading as Joy when her sister could not be found in her nest of comforters; And Grief felt that much heavier for her sister being so deeply buried. For over a year, Joy refused to inhabit more than the smallest space in the heart-shaped home. Eventually, Sorrow realized that she could not manage their life with just Grief to hold vigil, and their second cousin, Despair, came for a visit.
Despair was intense; a small, dark creature who never spoke above a whisper. Sorrow soon learned that she would need to lean in to hear whatever it was that Despair whispered, and it was then that Despair caught her, tied her to the bed next to Joy, and one by one, shuttered the windows that let the bright sunshine into their heart-shaped home. Next, she began to blow out the candles that had been keeping the last of the shadows at bay, and the sisters were plunged into Darkness.
For what felt like a lifetime, Sorrow lay in that darkness, hoping that Joy was still next to her, somewhere. She missed her sister, missed her life and vitality. She missed the sunshine that had filled their heart-shaped home, and in spite of everything, she missed Love. She thought that perhaps this was to be their life – a life of Despair, a life without Love.
But one day, a bright light shone beneath the door. The light moved around the home, casting shadows on the floor as it peeked between shutters, knocking softly, at first, but soon began shaking the doors and windows, light playing wildly over the crystal chandeliers, dusty furniture and floorboards. Despair shrank from the light, hiding in a far corner as the front door bursts open and Anger stood, backlit by the sun, frowning around the dark home. One by one, the shutters on the windows flew open and the energy from Anger’s rage and frustration caused the dust and other small objects to whirl around the space.
Despair fled the home in terror, and Anger burnt Sorrow’s bindings with one wrathful glance before striding over to where Joy still lay, deeply buried under thick feather ticks and woolen blankets. One by one, he began to pull the covers from her shrunken body until she lay exposed and shivering on the bed.
“Joy. How dare you abandon your home; your sacred temple. Sorrow was never meant to be your caregiver; only your companion. Just look at what your absence has wrought.” Joy slowly sat upright, gazing around the dirty, dusty, dark home, and then over at Sorrow, still sitting on the bed next to her, wrists and ankles red and burned. She pressed her lips tightly together, energy beginning to spark in her stomach before bringing her focus up to Anger.
“Anger. I do feel unhappy about the state of my home and my sister, but how could I possibly care for anything when the choices I have made have left me empty, in despair and guilt, and all for naught – I am still bereft of one of the most beautiful experiences of my life? Love, in spite of all that I thought was between us, did not choose me. “. She looked down at her lap, wishing to crawl back into the safety of her nest, but she sniffed and glanced at her sister from the corner of her eyes. “Sorrow is better suited to this reality.” Anger glared and folded his arms over his chest, clearly frustrated.
“Do not confuse one bad experience for reality. Love did not truly care for you. He did not value you. He did not give you his Heart, his communication, or even more than a tiny portion of his time. Love was fickle with his feelings. How could anyone who loves Joy reject her? I have a few choice words I’d like to share with him, if you would allow it.” Sorrow scooted closer to Joy, wrapping her arms around her.
“Do not listen to Anger. Love was a product of his environment, just like everyone. He cared for you, but his choices had to be his own. We both know that. Being angry with him is natural, just as is being sad, because we lost something that felt so valuable.” She turned to Anger. “Anger, thank you. Your rage over the pain this caused was what saved us from Despair, but you cannot stay here, and you certainly may not share your opinions with Love. I’ll have a word with Temperance about future conversations, but for now, you should probably leave us to find our equilibrium.” Anger rolled his eyes but bowed deeply and stepped out of the room. Sorrow sat back, taking Joy’s hands in hers and looked deeply into her sister’s eyes.
“Joy, we have to live this life together. I don’t like wearing a Joy-shaped mask. As you know, I don’t care for parties, and adventure just isn’t fun by myself. I can’t shoulder the burden of this life without you, so we have to figure out a way to share our heart-shaped home. I’ll still handle the difficult experiences and relatives, if you can deal with all of the other stuff that you are way better at than I. Please?” Joy gave Sorrow a small, sad smile.
“I can try, but Sorrow, my heart feels so much more empty than it did before I knew Love. I had always been happy but with him, somehow I felt even more. I felt complete. The epitome of my name. How can I be Joy if I feel this emptiness? If I feel that I might never experience that again?” Her eyes welled with tears, and Sorrow’s heart felt so very heavy that her beautiful sister had to feel such pain. She pulled her hands gently from Joy, hoping that the lack of contact might ease her sadness a little. Joy did seem to lighten, a little, and Sorrow felt a little lighter, herself.
“Well, remember neuroscience 101 – “Mood follows action.”…why don’t we start with finding things to fill that emptiness? Things that you love, like cooking good food, going on adventures, taking long walks with the dogs, spending time in nature and with people that we love?” Maybe we could even start writing and painting, again?” Joy gave her sister a genuine smile; the first in a long, long time.
“Why don’t we start with a walk?” And so the sisters took a walk in the rain, hand in hand. Life watched all of this, feeling pleased with himself and the sisters for learning from the painful experience, but also a little guilty for sending such a difficult lesson to the sisters. As they walked, he willed the skies to begin to clear and sent a rainbow so vibrant that Joy and Sorrow both stopped and stared in awe.
Joy’s healing was not an overnight process. There were still days when she refused to get out of bed, and Sorrow would find herself weeping over a sink of dishes, or on an outcropping overlooking the ocean when Joy suddenly took her absence, though she had been there only a moment before. But each day, Joy would spend some time with her sister, listening to music, though she still could not sing, being in the moment, usually barefoot in nature, hugging a tree, or watching the wildlife that always seemed to be comfortable in their presence. Even when she was fully present, Sorrow observed that her sister was softer. The Joy that she had known was a little quieter. Less balls-to-the-walls and more observant. Sorrow wasn’t sure if this was a permanent aspect of her sister’s new personality or just part of the process, but she accepted it as it was.
One evening, after returning from a long walk with their canine companions, they were discussing how they would spend the rest of their night; reading a good book (not a tragedy) or re-watching “Bridgerton”. Joy seemed undecided, looking towards their studio space before finally suggesting that they take out their paints again. Sorrow gave her sister a hug, grabbed some pots of water and sat down to watch. Joy raised one eyebrow.
“Don’t you want to join me? I thought the last painting we created together using a palette knife was pretty interesting.” Sorrow shook her head, remembering the painting they had been working on months ago; a representation of dead hope that she had put more of herself into than Joy.
“No, I’m not really feeling it tonight. I might step in occasionally, but I’ll let you take this one. What are you thinking about creating?” Joy smiled widely, picking up the phone and selecting “St. Finnikin” from their playlists. As the music began, she stepped to the canvas and raised her charcoal, beginning to form shapes in wide, looping arcs.
“I’ve got a vision of a Rockstar Angel in my head that needs to come to life.” Sorrow sipped her tea, inhaling the aroma of rose and mint deeply, enjoying the feel of the moment. She knew that finally, Joy was going to be ok. Maybe even better than okay, judging by the content of the painting that was rapidly taking shape, bright pinks and deep, jeweled greens splashing across the canvas. She stood up, stretching her tight back a bit.
“I think I might crawl into bed with a book, if you’re all good? There’s a Poe or Shakespeare that I think I’d like to dive into, but just give me a shout if you need me.” Joy glanced back at her sister with a brilliant smile before turning back to the canvas, focus intent.
“All good here! Enjoy your tragedy, sister. “
Sorrow turned and walked back to her bedroom, crawling into bed with a deep sigh of relief. She hoped that she and Joy would never go through an experience like that, ever again. If Love ever decided to come back into their life, she was going to meet him at the door and have a serious heart-to-heart about caring for and protecting her precious sister. If he could not agree to valuing them both, she would slam the door on his face, but not before giving him a black eye or two for good measure. It would seem, she mused as she opened the book on her lap, that perhaps a little bit of anger had rubbed off on her…but the thought was gone as quickly as it had come as she allowed herself to become absorbed into the story before her; “King Lear”. She did love a good tragedy…
Did you know…that Grief and motivation run on the same neural circuitry pathways? When we lose someone, something, or an idea that is deeply important to us, our mind wants to solve the “problem” of regaining what it is that is lost. In the allegory, Joy loses her « soulmate », but the pain of grief can be from so many different types of losses.
The inability to regain the person, thing, or idea is what causes our feelings of loss and sadness. Dr. Andrew Huberman, neuroscientist extraordinaire, describes this phenomena aptly – “It’s like standing outside of a stone castle. The thing you want is inside the castle, but you can not get past the gate, no matter how badly you want it.” Eventually, you wander off to find another castle, but as you stand outside, you go through the stages of grief –
Denial: I can get into the castle
Anger: Let me into the castle!!
I hate trite phrases like “This too shall pass”, though eventually, our hearts and minds really do heal, at least largely. I believe that grief, like most experiences in life, are like packages that we carry with us. When a major heartbreak or tragedy happens, that package may feel unbearable in its weight. But time passes, and it gets lighter and lighter until eventually, we forget it is even there, until something happens to remind us. We may feel sad again, for a spell, but even then, that pain is lighter. Easier, and we get back to enjoying the beauty of life much more quickly. I hope this happens for you, sooner rather than later. You deserve to be happy, my friend. Believe it. ✨
Bargaining: Please let me in. I have cookies!
Depression: I’m never going to get in. I might as well just lay here in misery.
Acceptance: This person/thing/idea is gone. I will likely always feel sadness about this, but I can find a way to live my life and maybe even be happy again.
These stages don’t necessarily happen in exact order, all of the time. We are unique individuals and the way we see and experience is also unique. But the gist is there. In order to come to a place of healing and acceptance, we have to allow ourselves to experience each stage with love and grace, even when it feels hard. We can mitigate some of this pain by doing things that we enjoy, spending time with good people, listening to feel-good music, talking out our feelings, and spending time in nature. Mood really does follow action, when it comes to training our brain to feel good more often than not, and doing things that help us to feel better increases our vibrational resonance, creating an uplifting cycle.
If you are still in one of the stages of your own grief, I feel you. Truly. My heart feels your pain, and I am so very sorry that you are in the experience right now.
Big love.💖
- Terah
This Blessed Sacred Life 