In the book I am reading, there was a mention of a line from "Moby Dick" which began with the phrase "At last the anchor was up...". It occurred to me that is how I am feeling these days. Grieving is a bit like being held motionless, while the rest of the world sails onward.
But lately, it seems like I have begun to make progress in moving forward. The small steps have me taking deeper breaths... feeling as though the anchor's hold is weakening.