I recently encountered this poem by Andrea Gibson:
every time i ever said i want to die
A difficult life is not less
worth living than a gentle one.
Joy is simply easier to carry
than sorrow. And your heart
could lift a city from how long
you’ve spent holding what’s been
nearly impossible to hold.
This world needs those
who know how to do that.
Those who could find a tunnel
that has no light at the end of it,
and hold it up like a telescope
to know the darkness
also contains truths that could
bring the light to its knees.
Grief astronomer, adjust the lens,
look close, tell us what you see.
Grief astronomer.
That title really grabbed me.
When we think of grief — and processing it — we often imagine an inward journey. But when we think of astronomy, we often imagine observations that move outward, exploring that which is vast.
Grief astronomer.
Are there times when our grief feels like… the cosmos?
Can we explore beyond our inner world, observing expanse that exists beyond grief? Connecting with people and resources beyond us?
If we adjust the lens — whatever that might need to be — does grief change shape? Do we see it differently?
Grief astronomer, adjust the lens,
look close, tell us what you see.
—Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 