C'est La Vie: On Processing Grief and Letting Go

C'est La Vie is a song by Phosphorescent that I recommend for a variety of feelings, as it has certainly hit me in different ways throughout the years. As you can tell, I write frequently about the integration of grief - and this is yet another example.

This song works as a call and response. Whether it is a phase of life, or the processing of the end of a relationship, the verse has a bit of longing for a time when certain things were part of who we were - part of our identity even.

As I age, I've been reflecting a lot on people and parts of myself that either I've chosen to let go of, or have chosen to let go of me. It is a blend of grief and gratitude. Sometimes we can't fully appreciate our story arcs until they've had years to form.

I wrote all night

Like the fire of my words could burn a hole up to heaven

I don't write all night burning holes up to heaven no more

I stood out in the rain

Like the rain might come and wash my eyes clean

I don't stand out in the rain to have my eyes washed clean no more

However, the response, while simple, may sound like a further extension of the loss. But to me, it signals growth and a reclamation of agency.

For me, I don't have the passion or need for certain things I relied on in the past. This verse makes me think about writing furiously - some of which I still do. But there was a time when I needed so much to feel heard and understood. There were times when I needed comfort, and I needed to wash away thoughts that burrowed and stagnated. The image of standing out in the rain felt like a necessary relief from the painful centrifuge of loss and change happening.

The choruses vary slightly in their progression, but are similar in their message.

C'est la vie they say

But I don't know what they mean

I say love's easy if you let it be

To me, the first line speaks to the systemic messaging we've all been conditioned to. A feeling that our experience is often not understood, only to be met with the sentiment of "oh well, that's life."

But the next line gently challenges this. Our experiences are still ours - our hurt, sadness, hope, and joy.

And the last line reminds me of something I like to remind myself, as well as my clients.

It reminds me of water. We spend much of our lives trying so hard to be a rock. But we're not a rock, we are water.

The water flows, and it does so naturally. The rock holds ground and fortifies, and water moves forward.

Over time, it even changes the shape of the rocks themselves.

It adapts. It integrates.