These past nine months, I have felt the depths of joy, gratitude, anguish, and grief.
I have learned that I must allow grief to break my heart and relinquish the idea that I can quickly mend myself. I have grieved things that I didn’t have any choice in giving up and others that I have knowingly excised in order to create room in my life.
The idea that grief creates space largely without the consent of its recipient feels cruel to me, an unasked for reminder of the things I have lost.
How does one allow grief to break their heart and not break their spirit?
For me, that has looked like acknowledging the unfairness and letting go of my desire to control all the feelings that grief stirs up. Cultivating ritual in the midst of grief has also saved me from being a victim of its wrath by giving me something steady to hold on to.
For all that you’re grieving, dear one, I wish for your spaciousness and an ability to mitigate grief’s desire to engulf you.
