The Borrowed Sorrow
She didn’t cry that day — I did. I was sitting at my desk, typing up numbers, when a sudden wave of energy suddenly coursed from my gut to my head. All at once, I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss, sadness, grief, and pain. Tears welled up in my eyes.
Storytime
Many years ago, I had a very profound twin experience.
My twin sister had a friend she loved dearly, who passed away in an accident. She was going to the friend's cremation service, and I asked if she wanted me to come along. She said she’d love that, especially since she didn't know anyone there - not even the friend's family.
But with such short notice, I couldn't get the day off from work. I told her I couldn't make it, and she said it was alright. So she went alone, and I went to work.
I was sitting at my desk, typing up numbers, when a sudden wave of energy suddenly coursed from my gut to my head. All at once, I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss, sadness, grief, and pain. Tears welled up in my eyes.
I started panicking, breathing heavily, and repeating, "I need to be with my sister."
I kept saying it, my voice growing louder as tears streamed down my face.
My colleagues grew worried and told me to go to her right away — they’d cover for me.
I went straight to her neighborhood, where there was a funeral home, but when I arrived, it was empty. I called her and explained that I’d left work to accompany her, but had shown up at the wrong place.
What now?
She explained that the cremation ceremony was taking place quite far away and it was just about to begin.
So I decided to wait around her neighborhood until she got back.
I went to a nearby cafe, ordered a drink to calm myself down, and sat on the terrace, feeling an enormous weight of grief.
I cried openly while sipping my beer. An old man came by and sat at my table uninvited.
"What's wrong, sweetIE?" he asked, the smell of alcohol wafting from his breath and pores.
Through my tears, I yelled, "Nothing!" He frowned and moved to another seat. I just kept sobbing and taking slow sips of my beer.
Some time later, the feeling of grief and sadness began to fade, and my tears subsided.
I checked my phone and figured the ceremony must be over. I called her; she confirmed it was and that she was on her way home.
I told her I’d wait for her in front of her apartment.
What was that all about?
There was a bench across the street, and I sat there until evening, staring into nothing and wondering, “What was that all about?”
After a while, I sensed my twin — and then saw her walking toward her apartment. I stood up and went to greet her.
I asked how she was feeling and how the ceremony had gone. She said she’d been anxious at first, afraid she might break down into an "ugly cry" amidst all the strangers. But then, something strange happened.
Just before the lights dimmed and a screen lit up with photos and videos of her late friend, she felt an energy move from her head down through her body - as if something was leaving her. When her friend's face appeared on the screen, a deep calm came over her. She felt peaceful, almost serene, and realized she didn’t need to cry.
In that moment, I understood what had happened.
I - who had never seen, met, or known the deceased - had felt all the grief my twin would have felt, and cried all the tears she would have cried.
She had remained calm, while I had carried her sorrow.
Part of me felt guilty for not being there with her. Yet we both sensed that her friend’s spirit had something to do with the switch - to keep her from feeling sad.
As twins, every now and then we feel each other’s emotional state — even from miles apart. It can be sudden, like a wave that hits without warning. One of us might feel a heaviness, or a rush of sadness, and somehow just know it isn’t ours.
When that happens, we call each other. Most of the time, that simple act of reaching out brings relief — like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.
It’s taught us that connection doesn’t always need words. Sometimes it’s felt before it’s spoken. And when we honor that connection, it becomes something steady and healing — a reminder that we’re never truly alone in what we feel.
XXX
Gloria
“Listen true, don’t lose your way,
Breathe and ground, then softly say,
“I’m here with you,” and just like that,
The energy finds its way back.”
When the Sky Came Down
There comes a moment when the heavens fall, not to destroy us, but to return what we once lost: truth, remembrance and knowing. This is the moment when illusion shatters, and clarity walks in barefoot. It is the beginning of your power rising from within.
STORY TIME
I lived in a gorgeous big white house made of glass. There were huge glass windows all around the house. Even the roof of the living room was completely made out of glass. The sky was blue and the sun was shining, lighting up the entire living room. A few clouds, soft as brushstrokes, drifted across the sky.
This was a place of peace and rest, light and warmth. I was sitting barefoot on the floor knitting a cord. Why was I knitting a cord? I could not tell you.
The moment they left, the stillness deepened. And then
it happened…
My siblings were visiting and hung out in another room. After a while they appeared in the doorway, cheerful and casual, telling me they were going shopping and asked if I wanted to come with them. I declined because I was enjoying myself. I smiled, greeted them, and went back to my knitting.
The moment they left, the stillness deepened. And then… it happened…
With a deafening bang, something erupted from the floor beside me — a massive rope, thick enough to anchor a ship, shot straight upward through the living room, tearing through the stillness and splitting the serene space in two. It tore through the glass ceiling and broke it open.
I jumped aside to avoid the falling shards of glass and watched, stunned, as the rope continued its ascent - rising higher and higher, past the clouds, until it vanished into infinity.
I stood in awe while looking up at the rope in the sky, unable to comprehend how something so immense could emerge from the depths of the earth and reach endlessly into the sky.
For a moment, everything was suspended in awe.
Then the rope began to fall - fast, heavy, unstoppable. It felt as though someone released it from above, and at the same time, as if I were somehow pulling it down myself.
Then… the rope dragged the entire sky down with it.
It crashed through the glass ceiling and plunged back into the same hole in the floor from which it had first erupted. And something had come down. A serene darkness.
All at once, the entire firmament hung above me like a new ceiling within arm’s reach. I felt as though I could bump my head against it.
It was a deep, deep dark blue — almost black, yet unmistakably blue — a shade I had never seen before. Majestic, breathtaking, and terrifying all at once, it felt like a vast blanket descending over my head.
I suddenly felt small, as though I were a miniature version of myself, and the firmament a giant bending low to study me with its immense, unseen face.
The air was thick with mystery. I stood there in awe and fear, in the middle of my living room with the floor torn open and the ceiling shattered, craning my neck upward until it almost hurt to look.
Then, my siblings returned from shopping. I ran to them, trying to explain what I’d witnessed. “Did you see the sky?” I asked.
“It was right here, just above us! Deep, very deep DARK blue, almost close enough to touch!”
They gazed at me with quiet bewilderment and shrugged their shoulders. As if nothing had happened beyond the windows, the sky had returned to its pale serenity, the clouds drifting lazily through sunlight. The floor was sealed, the glass ceiling flawless once more. The vision was gone — dissolved into the ordinary. Only I had seen it…
Ever since that day, I still look up, half expecting the sky to lean closer again.
Until next time, luv ya.
Gloria
“The story ends here, but your reflection begins at Haus of Healing where symbols speak and souls remember.”