“Muddy water is best cleared by leaving it alone.” — Alan Watts
Grief stirs everything. The mind races. The heart aches. The body carries exhaustion from trying to understand the unimaginable. Many parents, after losing a child, search for answers. The questions come like waves—relentless and without rest. The ache demands relief. Many grieving people try to fix what cannot be fixed. That desperate motion only makes the water murkier. Pain does not obey force. Clarity does not come through effort alone. Stillness opens space for healing.
Stillness feels foreign after loss. The silence left behind screams louder than any noise. A grieving parent may feel a constant urge to fill that silence. Busyness can become a shield. Distraction can become a mask. But somewhere in that quiet space, the heart begins to breathe differently. Stillness allows the truth to rise gently. Stillness does not erase the wound. Stillness gives sorrow a place to settle. Stillness allows the soul to begin understanding what the mind cannot.
Clarity does not mean peace right away. Clarity begins with accepting that grief needs room. Letting the heart rest becomes an act of courage. Letting sorrow unfold without rushing it creates room for grace. A grieving parent does not need to fix grief. The love we carry cannot be undone. The pain reflects that depth. Stillness invites the deeper wisdom of love to speak. Stillness says, “You do not have to know everything right now.” The water will clear in time.
Thought for today: Allow space for stillness. Let the pain settle. Trust that healing begins beneath the surface.