Fertile Ground

A channeled message on the subject of grief

We greet you this day, dear one, with prayers of thanks and love. And so it is.

Grief is a common thread through human experience. This is the nature of life in a human body, the world of birth and death and rebirth that is the human realm. What you do with this grief is the operative question. Will you let grief run its natural course through you, like the river moving in its fullness, or try to dam the emotions? We would offer that letting the current of grief wash through your body, mind, and spirit, can be a cleansing, a clearing, and an opening. Nothing can stop the torrent of emotion that is grief; it is fierce and unyielding. And yet, it is not merciless or unforgiving. Grief pushes through but does not leave solely emptiness in its wake. Grief clears the way for new growth, fresh potential, and in this, there is mercy. This is like the forest fire which leaves ashes in its place, making the forest appear desolate and empty, devoid of meaning. And yet! There: new shoots of green emerging, the phoenix rising. The space left by grief, the scalded land, becomes fertile ground. There has been a fire, and now there is an opening in the forest, a new perspective, open skies overhead. New light shines in this clearing. The birds singing on the periphery come out to explore the new soil. They have brought gifts—seeds are planted. The rain falls. New growth bursts through the soil, and you begin again. We would invite you to allow this season of burning and heartache to pass through and see what new growth emerges on the other side, in the spring. You have not been left alone, forsaken. You have been cracked open and gifted with new growth.

There is nowhere to hide, nowhere to run to when grief is present. Grief seeps into every corner, every facet of your existence. There is no choice but to ride its waves, to abide by its power and command. It asks everything of you—your heart, body, and mind must surrender themselves in total. Is grief a cruel thief, who runs through taking everything you once held dear, robbing you blind? Perhaps in moments, it is. But what if grief was also a great giver? What if grief also held you in its palm, let you scream and writhe and lash out in pain, while also connecting you most sincerely to those you love? What if it allowed you a bridge between what you have known and what you are newly understanding, little by little, as you open into the unknown before you? What if grief were both the thief and the philanthropist, the pauper and the rich man? What if, to the extent that grief robs you of that which you have known, grief also hands you something unexpected and new, moment by moment, day to day, year by year? The way has been cleared by grief, and you have been given an opportunity. Roll the dice, why don’t you? Life is a game—a game of chance, you might say, or a game of love, as we suggest. Grief has shown you a depth of heart you may not have experienced before, for grief is not separate from love, but part of it. And in this sense, you have loved greatly, even in your grief. You have experienced yet another aspect of human love and life in a physical body.

Your experience here has not been shorted; you have not been left out to dry. You have dove to the depths and brought back yet another treasure. You have put on your equipment and let something or someone else do the breathing for you in that underground cavern, and yet you have risen back up to the surface bearing gifts. These gifts may come to light more clearly over time, revealing themselves in unexpected ways as you find you can offer the comfort to another that only comes from having experienced loss yourself. It may be that your compassion has grown, your kindness has spread, your appreciation for life has deepened, your ability to empathize has widened. And now you are the philanthropist, the one able to give selflessly of yourself to others. You who were the bereft are now the selfless giver. You who were isolated are now surrounded. You who were racked with grief are now capable of sharing your joy. Do not underestimate the power of grief—both to clear the way and to bridge the gap to new life. Grief is not the thief; grief is the one helping you to get to the other side of your anguish. And on the other side of fully allowing that pain is the potential for healing. On the other side of contraction is expansion. Allow grief to clear the way. Your next steps on the path will be revealed to you over time, one step at a time. You will pick your way along, searching for answers, asking for guidance and healing, but in this you are fully supported and loved; indeed, cherished from above. Rest assured: the curtain may have fallen, but the next act is sure to begin.