I read an article on facebook this morning about grieving, how it's lifelong not transient, how it can be transcendent. Made sense to me--19 months in, and there's still that hole in my chest, not likely to go away. It's not that I'm unhappy; I believe that people choose to move toward happiness, and in my daily inventory I have found that most of the time the message comes: "I like my life." But it seems that grief inclines toward lethargy, and I stay in the chair reading or watching or surfing.
I'm determined to turn the feelings into transcendence. Do the work. It's waiting on the table. Doesn't matter whether it's great or mediocre, only time and effort will show. Do the work. In the Huntsville house my studio was upstairs, and when I was noodling about something Pat would call out, "I don't hear any sewing going on." And I'd reply, "I'm thinking!" Thinking is work, creating is brain and heart work as well as handwork. Do the work, do the work. It makes a chant one could dance to.