Seeing Red on The Front Lines

During this battle we call grief, we must remember only our hearts know how to win the war.

Yours Truly

My philosophical intuition warns me

Unchecked curiosity is a dangerous thing. Yet —

My heart says: By all means, question away! But —

If you’re going to stand on the front lines Expectant —

My mind reminds me: Be certain you’re ready for the answers.

Speaking of answers, I’d love yours. Thank you in advance for your comments.

Everything I’m seeing is red

My days are real blue

Now, I’m stuck in the purple — No idea what to do.

Trying to make sense of something truly horrific is horrific in itself. The knowledge is power rule applies to every facet of my life because I don’t only want to understand, I have to understand. It’s my coping mechanism. I’ve learned the hard way, on multiple occasions, that not everything can be understood, there are events I’ll NEVER figure out, reasons behind stuff I’m unable to expose. I may never fill in all the blanks but yet — here I am. Trying to make things, make sense. Guess what? Even if you sit and think really hard, it still doesn’t. In the midst of my thinking, here’s what has come to fruition:

Making sense is like trying to make closure. You either get it or you don’t. You can no sooner create sense than you can create closure. Either it’s an option or it’s not. EEHH’NNT! WRONG. I don’t know, I’ve argued with myself all day. You can teach reason, to a point, try to make someone see sense—hopefully, eventually, independent logic will kick in. What of closure? It’s a slippery slope because of the highly variable nature specific to the individual. You can teach ways to find closure too. I’ve experienced a great deal of grief and studied it, so much so, this chart is memorized. What better way to discern than to study? Unfortunately, real life situations don’t run parallel with books. God, love ’em, those books try but they can’t keep up.

An old post worth checking out:

You can attempt to make sense of things, as is your right. You can learn about grief in an effort to better understand your own, same with closure too, but you cannot create it. Closure is not a cake, in whole, or in a piece. Also, emotions aren’t always rational. Therein lies what is at the very heart of grief. When Emotion vs. Logic, emotions slaughter logic. What’s in our minds, doesn’t always match what’s in our hearts. Likewise, what comes out of our mouths doesn’t typically convey what we’d like. Here’s what I would’ve liked to say earlier but I’m going to say now:

Life has given me plenty of reasons to hate mine. There are times I feel like the Universe is trying to shake me violently out of my tree. When my reality is too cruel to bear. Plenty of reasons, plenty of times, in plenty of ways. Maybe I’m flying over the cuckoo’s nest but during deep reflection I wonder, not how or why or when…perhaps, I’m asking about another heart because I don’t want to focus on mine right now.

If grief had a heart what would it be like?


  1. The conundrum between self, passion, and logic. And it’s especially troublesome for you as a philosopher. The stoics, the masters, the theologians say passion is bad. Stifle it or you become like a wild animal. Only logic, focusing on the intelligible, and becoming void of passion should be one’s guide to happiness. But I’ve often wondered how happy the dower stoics and stern theologians really are. From what I can studied of Augustine, Luther and Calvin they all ended up one flew over the cuckoo’s nest.

    Do wild animals have passion and lack logic? Wild animals have anxiety trying to survive. What can wild animals care about but themselves and their survival? They have a logic in only caring for themselves, and on occasion their offspring. Humans should be above the base nature of wild animals, one hopes, but it’s not always the case. When humans don’t love and protect their offspring, they give them nothing but the base elements of survival. With no love, no care, all the abused and neglected children can do is try their best to survive.

    You are a survivor, you are a philosopher, and, although you have raised yourself above the base elements of survival, and made yourself strong and forthright belonging to humanity, the fight between what is and what you believe should not be shakes your foundation. The turmoil must be unbearable. I think many of us are not far from one flew over the cuckoo’s nest, but many people have something, someone to steady those shaking trees, their cracked foundations. When you are alone there is little or nothing to hold onto when you feel yourself cashing to the ground. No one to trust and hold on to but yourself. What a conundrum. Hang in there, Eleanor.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. All the 7 colours (spectral) originate from white,
    And that is colour of sunlight,
    The source of the visible spectrum,
    That’s our actions, thoughts and, spirits that reflect ,or absorb these Chrome’s, dear,
    I simply loved your color philosophy 💕💕💕❤️

    Liked by 3 people

  3. This is articulated remarkably well. I just re-read it. As I said before you’re capable of great control over the written word even when trying to express something complex, and even if you might feel sort of at the end of your rope.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. A beautiful post, dear Eleanor. In understanding my own grief, I’ve learned that understanding will come in time, and, as you write, it may not. For me, allowing the heart to work at its pace, without force has been helpful. Love and light to you, my friend. 💜❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  5. “Now, I’m stuck in the purple — No idea what to do.”.. This is so true for many Americans these days. If you want to know more, I could tell you, but then this comment would then be three essays long. Right now, I just feel that many Americans were duped in the last election, there was clear fraud and now some are just realizing it.

    Liked by 2 people

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