I want you to know this about grief.

I want you to know this about grief.

Or at least my interpretation and
attempt at defining and explaining the often
inexplicable landscape of grief.

Grief is an experience.
It is a collection of emotions and physical sensations.
Grief is wails and cries and screams and laughter and silence.

It is holding yourself in fetal position, waiting for it to pass.

Grief is waves.
It is also the feeling of getting stuck in the undertow and
not knowing how you will ever make it out alive.

But you will.
Grief is being held in pain.
Grief is being brought homemade soup and veggie burritos
when you can’t get off the couch because of it’s heaviness.

Grief is months of an aching back because of how hard you’ve been crying.

It is also standing with your face to the sky,
listening to the birdsongs, and weeping at the beauty of it all.

Grief is a life that will never be the same.
Grief is forever changing the makeup of who you are.
Grief is the soul’s cry for what it has lost, for what is no longer.

I do not have all the answers for how to navigate grief.
I do not believe anyone does.
What I know is that we cannot do grief alone.

I hope you have found at least one person who can be
that space holder for you when the grief hits hard,
and who is also there for you when you come up for air.

It is my intention to build spaces for grief to exist.
Community spaces are through Moving Grief monthly gatherings (listed under Events). For more intimate 1:1 work, I invite you to set up an informational call with me here.