Sitting with a relaxed spine, eyes gently closed. Find the coolness of the breath as it hits the back of the throat on the inhale, following it into the lungs and then back out as you exhale. Take a moment to bring forth an image of someone you love. Can you see their eyes? Can you make out all the different colors in their irises?

This came to me from one of my guided meditation apps that I use. I had chosen a long guided meditation that day, something like fifteen minutes. I started out laying back in savasana but after some time had passed I ended up sitting up, leaning comfortably against a wall. When I peaked at the clock, there was about five minutes left. The passage above came during those last five minutes. I had had a good yoga practice that day and even though I sat up early from my final relaxation, that part had been everything I needed. As I sat leaning against the wall with my eyes still closed, I could feel the sun beating down into my face. The sun was bright that day with no clouds or haze to shield you. Even with my eyes closed, the spot between my eyes, my inner third eye, seemed to glow a bright gold color.

Take a moment to bring forth an image of someone you love.

Chris was the first and only person to come to me at this prompt. There was no hesitation, no pause. It was his face that hovered in that bright golden glow. I pictured his warm brown eyes and the many shades of brown they contained. I saw his smiling beautiful face and I felt completely at peace, safe and warm, completely comfortable in this body, in this space. A smile came to my lips. My body felt filled to the brim with joy.

I told all of this to Dr. Mary on Tuesday. She asked me if this made me feel like I had completed this path of grief. I responded by saying that I don’t think that my grief path has an ending. At the time of my meditation, I felt wonderful, light and loved. As those feelings started to wear off, they were replaced with guilt and longing. If I had to think of grief as a path, I would say that it is a path of variability. If I link grief to the analogy of taking a hike, I would say that for most days, the hike is pretty easy. The path is well marked and even paved with that rubbery stuff they use in playgrounds. I just sort of bounce along the path. Then there are the days where the hike is laborious. It is rough terrain that travels up rocky hills. I have to shove my way through vegetation and brambles. I come out on the other side, scratched and bloody, sweaty and exhausted. But I complete it. Every day. Whatever the hike.

So, I have gratitude for the days when the hike is easy. I have gratitude for that moment of peace and joy. I also have gratitude for the days that hike is hard because those hikes build strength and stamina. Those hard hikes really make those easy hikes sweeter.