“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, There is a field. I’ll meet you there.” – Rumi

Losing a parent is something no one prepares us for, but we know it’s part of the cycle of life. Losing a peer is something entirely different. It reminds us of our own fragile humanity and wakes us up to the fact we’re not invincible.

I recently lost a friend who was very important to me, but in a complex way.

Sometimes, friendship is complicated. Grief is always complicated.

I am grieving a myriad of things surrounding this person – the role he played in my life, the distance he put between us for reasons unknown to me, the ways he betrayed me, but ultimately, his presence and his future. This complex grief feels different than anything I’ve experienced before. It’s like a blanket made of lead, weighing me down. It has stolen my sleep and often erupts in bursts of tears. I cycle between sadness, anger, frustration, and love.

Long ago, I made a conscious decision to love him regardless of the hurts he caused. I knew it wasn’t personal. Instead, I saw the little boy longing for love and acceptance, not knowing how to sit still with his own inner being long enough to meet himself. At times, this love softened him towards me.

To fully grieve him, I have to embrace all of who he was, light and shadow – the duality of being human. At the same time, I cannot be burdened by the weight of the past. Now that death has come for him, I must continue with my campaign of forgiveness and grace. I am focusing on the gratitude I have for the support he once showed me, and the friends he introduced me to who have changed my life for the better.

His was a life that demonstrated how to live like tomorrow is not promised. Because death will come for us all, but we can choose how to live today, with arms and hearts wide open.