Imagine standing at the crossroads of change, holding the weight of grief in one hand and the hope for healing in the other. Life is full of transitions—some we celebrate, others we endure. How do we mark the moments that shape us? How do we find meaning in the spaces where loss and growth meet?
A significant loss can come in many shapes and sizes and has the power to change us at a fundamental level. That rebirthing we go through after a big loss is so important and can also be so painful. Two questions that can often come to mind are: “How long will this take?” and “Can I make it through?”
The first year after a significant loss can be so hard. As the wheel turns and the light changes, visceral memories can arise of this time last year when things were different. How do we create space for our hearts as we go through a year of firsts?
When someone passes away, the loss can bring us to our knees metaphorically - and sometimes literally. When it’s literal, that’s the body talking, echoing the heart. Crying can be like that too. Today we look at intention, death, and tears.
What do we do when the unthinkable happens and we lose someone we love? How do we create space for our heart, our pain, and our love which is now expressed as an overwhelming grief? How do we do that while simultaneously putting one foot in front of the other each day?
Initiations come in all shapes and sizes, from graduating with a formal degree, to becoming a parent, to losing a parent. We can't control what experience the universe sends us, but we can meet each change with our full, honest selves. Alicia Connor inspires us with a story of taking a change and flowing with it on her own terms.
Catherine Monahon (producer of the wonderful Material Feels Podcast) shares their journey from breakup to new home. At the start of the journey was heartbreak. At the end was a celebration of the love that had supported Catherine all along the way.
When Reverend Tristy Taylor and her husband decided to stop trying to have a baby, she honored that loss with a special ceremony. During her time sitting shiva, "grief first" was her mantra. Then a dream inspired her to create a celebration of her decision to not become a mother.
It's taboo to acknowledge or to express anything but joy on the wedding day. But what would it look like to make room for some of the more complex emotions? To let everyone acknowledge the effect a wedding has on their unique relationship to the couple?
