GUEST BLOG : ELIZABETH WELLES
Sorrow Speaks: Gather the Shattered Pieces and Lean into Love
“Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er fraught heart and bids it break.” Even William Shakespeare recognized the enigmatic power that the expression of sorrow holds. How it is possible to witness the shattered pieces of our hearts—and then gather them up through self-expression, even if they never quite fit together the same way again.
I think about my grandma from time to time. Her first daughter, Pearl, died when she was just a baby, maybe a year or two old. How did she mourn her daughter? Did she have to push aside her grief to be strong for the family? There were three other children to raise—and later, three more. There were meals to prepare, a husband, and a life to live. And when the pogroms started, forcing the family to flee Romania, her adopted country, and return to the United States, was that another loss—to leave her home and start over again? It reminds me of the women on the prairie who lost children yet still had fields to plow and mouths to feed. How did they grieve? Did they find moments to express their sorrow, or did the grief settle deep within, impacting generations to come? And if they had to move, what was it like to leave behind the gravesites of their children or husbands?
In our fast-paced society—with so much convenience yet so little connection—when a loss occurs, be it through death or a non-death loss, we’re still told to “be strong,” to “let it go,” to “adapt,” and to “move on.” We hear endless platitudes encouraging us to cover up our pain instead of honoring it, to put a lid on the boiling pot rather than tend to it. But does this coping truly serve us? Perhaps, for some, it’s helpful. But I imagine many people walk around with wounded hearts, longing for someone to sit with them, to listen, and let their grief be heard and expressed in some way, as Shakespeare advised.
Grief longs for a witness—a way to be seen—and an avenue for expression. In my own deepest moments of grief, I didn’t have a community or close friends nearby. I remember being flat-out on the floor howling in pain. And in those moments of anguish beyond any I’ve known, there were whispers— as if an unseen presence gently watched over me, offering solace I couldn't fully grasp in the moment. As if each tear, a story of heartbreak, might provide a nourishment that would sustain me through later days. In the hollowed spaces and hallowed scars left in the heart by loss, there is pain—and there is also a reminder of the love we've known, as if our grief is a doorway back to the love that loss still holds.
In the months following my mom’s death, I heard a whisper that said, “Lean into love.” I wrote a poem about leaning into love—a love that still holds me. Though it has been a profoundly lonely experience since her passing, writing has always been my sanctuary—a gateway where I connect to myself and to something beyond this physical world. On this branch of creativity, through our very hands, we are called back to love. I’ve shared this path with thousands over the years, teaching them how writing can offer comfort and creative wings that says, “Here, in these broken pieces, something of you still lives. Let your heart speak. Share your story. Let us hear your voice. Go forth and love.”
Whatever your loss, may you honor it in your own way. Let your heart find a voice. The ways grief can find expression are limitless—follow your way. If there’s no one who understands the depth of your pain, find something familiar to you. Pick up a pen, paint, or clay. Walk quietly in nature, light a candle and speak aloud, or sit beneath an old great-grandmother tree. Find what feels familiar to you—whether tending a garden, planting new seeds, writing a story, or building something new, let the simple find and guide you. Express yourself to someone, or to the earth, and Mother Earth will bear witness. She will receive your tears and hear your cries until peace finds you, gently holds you, and loves you back to love.
Elizabeth Welles is a writer, speaker, storyteller, meditation healer and guide serving people who want to write and tell their story, activate their creativity, reduce their stress, honor their grief, and deepen their peace. She is the author of Journaling for Well-Being & Peace, the editor and author of the book, Women Celebrate: The Gift in Every Moment. Her works include the CD and MP3, Meditation for Relaxation and the online course, Finding Peace through the Power of Rest: A Loving Guide for the Wearied, the Anxious, and the Grieving. (also known as How to Rest). As a writer and performer, her one woman shows have been seen east to west coast. As an artist, she creates Luminous Visions, layered photography and art imbued with a mystical presence. She is the founder of The Four Wisdoms of Creativity, The Goddess Method of Stress Reduction, and the podcast Unfathomable.