Understanding Sadness

Yesterday I took part in a writing workshop hosted by Erin, who is a poet, energy healer, and the host of a podcast entitled, Rooted in Courage. I wanted to share with you what the experience was like for me and some of what I got out of it.

First of all, I want to thank Erin and all the attendees of the workshop for creating a safe, supportive, and encouraging space. In this space, she led us through a guided meditation, where we went to our favourite place, and during the meditation, a door opened. She asked us to open the door and invite who or whatever was on the other side of the door into our space. She indicated that it could be a person, a part of ourselves, or an emotion. She then asked us to write whatever came to mind, mentioning some potential elements we may want to consider in the chat. She then encouraged anyone who felt so inclined to share what they had written. As one and then another person shared, I felt my insecurities grow – these people have such a way with words, and those I had penned paled in comparison. However, when Erin’s mother shared her words about sadness – I got a bit of a lift – I had written about sadness too – perhaps I could share. Before I had the chance to question myself again, I unmuted myself and shared this:

Hello, my old friend Sadness. Why doesn’t it surprise me to see you here when I open this door? We have been companions on this journey called life for so long that I know you are with me always – with almost blind faith – knowing you are there with me, even when I don’t see or feel you. It is almost like I don’t know how to live any part of my life if you are not here with me – but I have never had to contemplate that possibility because you are so steadfast in your company – loyal, almost. Isn’t it weird to think of you as loyal? In thinking that way it almost feels like a betrayal to want to part with you.

In addition, I shared with them a sketch that I drew – which I quickly painted after the workshop. To me, sadness is a grey cloud that surrounds me always – and it dulls the colours of anything coming to me or that I try to put out into the world.

I found the exercise to be more powerful than I expected. And I am sharing it with you so that perhaps it will inspire you to try your own version of it.