cinema_babe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cinema_babe) wrote2006-04-07 12:28 am
cinema_babe) wrote2006-04-07 12:28 am
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"Time does not heal old wounds...you simply get used to them"
Someone posted this in a non LJ community I belong to and I loved the quote so much I told her I was stealing it. I think this is true. Grief is that sometimes barren plain you pass through as you journey from loss to acceptance.
This quote also reminds me of a phrase I *loath* "I/You need closure." I always feel that closure is code for 'getting over it' and some things one cannot get over. Some wounds are tiny and can heal without a scar, others leave their mark on your flesh for the rest of your life. The very word 'closure' conjures up the image for me of putting something in big dark closet never to be spoken of in public again.
If I close myself off to the things I've grieved in my life, I cut myself off from something that has powerfully shaped the landscape of me. I think once the doors to certain rooms are open, they can't be shut.
It's not about closure for me, it's about integration.
But how do I embrace my grief as a "cancer surviving divorcee who has had a miscarriage and survived a thousand other little disasters"? By feeling it and acknowledging it. The things I have grieved don't interrupt the joy of my life they inform it and make it more nuanced.
A little piece of all my griefs are a part of who I am and shape how I perceive and respond to the world.
Someone posted this in a non LJ community I belong to and I loved the quote so much I told her I was stealing it. I think this is true. Grief is that sometimes barren plain you pass through as you journey from loss to acceptance.
This quote also reminds me of a phrase I *loath* "I/You need closure." I always feel that closure is code for 'getting over it' and some things one cannot get over. Some wounds are tiny and can heal without a scar, others leave their mark on your flesh for the rest of your life. The very word 'closure' conjures up the image for me of putting something in big dark closet never to be spoken of in public again.
If I close myself off to the things I've grieved in my life, I cut myself off from something that has powerfully shaped the landscape of me. I think once the doors to certain rooms are open, they can't be shut.
It's not about closure for me, it's about integration.
But how do I embrace my grief as a "cancer surviving divorcee who has had a miscarriage and survived a thousand other little disasters"? By feeling it and acknowledging it. The things I have grieved don't interrupt the joy of my life they inform it and make it more nuanced.
A little piece of all my griefs are a part of who I am and shape how I perceive and respond to the world.
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I also liked Stranger than Paradise. I love that Screaming Jay Hawkins in it. I want to read this more, I won't add you tho unless you want me to.
Sometimes I post bad poetry and savethewave is a helpful editor. Sometimes I write too much too which can be annoying maybe.
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To me, closure means some element of "finished" so I know whatever it is, is over. But I think you are right... it's about integrating the pain and experience, not assuming it will go away someday.
And I also agree with you... the wounds shape us, and become part of us. They inform our choices, and make beautiful moments all the sweeter... and caution us with the voice of experience.
You have a lot of wisdom :)