The World Feels Smaller

No one ever told me grief could shrink my world. Growing up I learned all about how technology and travel had brought all the corners of the world closer. In many ways the speed with which we can now travel and communicate has literally shrunk the globe.

But no one ever mentioned this. No one ever said a person’s absence could be felt nearly as deeply as their presence. I was never taught that loss could so completely warp my world view that there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. I have found however this is precisely the case. The world just feels smaller somehow.

And not small as in close knit and warm. Not the kind of small like a family dinner or an afternoon with a dear friend. This isn’t warm and comfortable. This is cold and dark. It’s empty and stiflingly close at the same time. I don’t know which way is up, but it hardly matters. I’m rooted to the floor.

Maybe it has to do with the near constant stream of loss we’ve been enduring lately. With this sheer magnitude the collective quickly becomes personal. It’s at the same time completely individual and intrinsically shared. And it is heavy, so heavy some days the only sensation I can register is fragility. I am brittle with grief, and sadness, and anger at the knowledge that it didn’t have to be this way. None of it did.

But for reasons beyond my understanding, and due to forces blessedly out of my control, I remain here, in this moment. I remain, to continue reaching out through the small, dark stillness in hopes of finding a hand to grasp on to. Maybe it’s your hand I’m looking for. Maybe you’re looking for mine. In any case, I hope we find each other. I don’t want my world to feel this small anymore.

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