building-healthy-relationships

A dull grey layer of clouds hangs heavily over my head, reflecting my mood and the heartache of a nation mourning the loss of a young life. With every tiny droplet that pecks at the window of the train, my thoughts travel to the coastal town of Lyngdal, where the currents of grief run deep today. I just read about it, about the tragedy, about a loss so sudden and heartrending that it feels personal, even though I never knew the boy.

Building healthy relationships - that's supposedly the title of this reflective piece; yet how does one talk of fostering connections and nurturing the bonds that tie us together on such a dismal day? The sting is too raw, the sadness too heavy, the grief too profound.

A relationship, healthy and thriving, is a tree that requires constant nurturing; watering with time, fertilizing with understanding, and pruned with mutual respect. But sometimes, despite all the efforts, the tree can still be struck by a sudden winter, freezing the life out of it, numbing the roots that hold us firm.

However, it is important to remember that a winter never lasts forever, and neither does the pain of losing someone. It's heartening to see that even in these times of physical restrictions and barriers, a connection is still being kept alive, the strength of the relationship not diluted by distance.

A funeral being broadcast is, on one hand, a reflection of the harsh times we live in, but it also symbolizes an underscoring truth - human relationships, no matter through what medium, run much deeper than the surface. Sitting miles away, we grieve for someone we never knew simply because of the shared human connection.

A relationship therefore, more than ever, is a commitment to pain just as much as it is a promise of joy. It is a vulnerability, an exposure, and the silent assurance that there will be someone to share in both your joy and in your sorrow. It is this that makes the loss bearable and the memory unforgettable.

Even as my fingers tap out these ostensibly dispirited words, they struggle to grasp the inherent melancholy any loss brings. It's a hollow feeling, like an echo bouncing back from a cavernous dark, undermining the certainties of life, intimidating the fragile essence of relationships. With the heaviness of these thoughts, I find it hard to stay dispirited. Instead, I find a certain sort of quiet strength that is underlined by hope.

Because if a relationship is a tree, then it is more than just about its nurturing; it's about the resilience to weather each season, each storm, and each loss. It's about the courage to outlast the winter and embrace the spring that always follows. Maybe that's the answer I was seeking all along, the key to building healthy relationships: strength in despair, and the courage to always hope for better days.

I watch as the train traverses the rural landscape, a reflection of a country in mourning. Yet amidst this somber scenery, I also see resilience, a landscape enduring cold autumn days, preserving the hope of a spring, mirroring the delicate strength of human relationships. So, in the gloom that this tragic loss brings, perhaps we can find the blueprint to building healthy relationships – sprinkled with a dash of hope in the resilience we all share as humans.

Tags: relationships resilience grief loss building healthy relationships