Total Eclipse of The Heart

What Can Never Be Eclipsed

Years ago I witnessed my first and only total eclipse of the sun.

It was the middle of the afternoon. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping with all the accompanying mid-day rhythms. And then, for a few moments as the moon completely blocked out the entirety of the sun, everything changed. Immediately the chirping stopped. As the daily noises ceased, the nocturnal silence eerily descended. More than just cloud coverage or a gloomy sky, the eclipse transformed day into night.

I just stood feeling powerless and at the mercy of this unprecedented darkness descending in the middle of the day.

So too, when death’s darkness comes, our usual way of thinking, living and being is stripped of any semblance of normalcy, routine or clarity. Where there was once a sense of order, there is now a feeling of chaos as the world we once knew shifts into a new reality we don’t want, aren’t sure how to navigate and often feel we cannot bear.

When a loved one dies we experience an eclipse of a different kind. Our source of light disappears, our day turns to night and we have lost our ability to see. In those early moments, days, weeks and months, often the best, and only, thing we can do is to do nothing, just stand there and wait.

Eclipses don’t last forever and neither does the unbearable grief. The grief, of course, will always be there but eventually it will be more like darkened shadows, rather than a total eclipse.

For now, just stand there, just hold on, just survive - survival is enough. Know that a crack of light will eventually shine through, your sun is still up there, true sunlight can never, will never be eclipsed of the light.

Keep on living.
Keep on loving.
Keep journeying.
Baruch HaLevi