I have been meditating on the nature of loss or losing. So, imagine this - you find an ingot of gold - say a few days ago. You are happy, it shiny, its beautiful. Its makes your life a little more meaningful.
You have never had an ingot of gold ever in your life. You have only heard of it. But now, since the past week, you have it. On your writing table - sitting there radiant and engaging with you whenever it can.
Today, as the earthquake occurred, the land gave away and the table and the ingot are both gone. Drowned in a sea of rubble.
You are no worse than a week ago (other than losing your beloved table too!!)...and yet it feels like the world just ended.
Our minds and bodies plays strange tricks on us. Why is the ingot of gold so critical for my survival? If that is not true, why does it feel like this loss is such a heavy cross to bear? Why can't you just rationalise the ignot, for what it was, a transient happiness?
Loss is worse than grief. Grief is for the past. Post the closure. Loss is present continuous.
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