You could also appear on a television show or radio show, where a therapist could give you advice for the purpose of entertaining a large audience.
You could book a session with a Reiki healer or an angelic channel, who might say, “I sense that the person you love is far away,” and then lay on a table where they place their hands over your body and pray for your healing.
Yes, you could try all these things in search of comfort and answers, like I did.
But in the end, the only way out of grief is through it– by accepting and expressing your paining, by taking gentle care of your self, and by beginning the slow process of integrating your loss into the rest of your life, finding meaning and developing strength as result.
And none of this is possible unless you are able to “love after love,” according to poet Derek Walcott:
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
* * * *
It’s true that you’ve suddenly found yourself on your own. But maybe that’s just what you need. For now.