Where Does Your Grief Go?

Today’s the death anniversary of my dad and the thought that popped into my head this morning whilst pouring my coffee: “today is the day my life changed forever”.

In reality though, it had already started changing when he got sick and when he shifted into the end stages of the dying process. From March to August, my world was already shifting. But my full arrival into the role of Griefwalker* was made official on this day 27 years ago.

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Anniversaries land different from year to year but the body always seems to remember what day it is.

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This year, I’m thinking about how that young gal didn’t know how to carry all that grief in her 12-year-old body and how proud she would be to know how I’ve learned to ride the waves and hold the space for grief in all its forms. My own specifically AND the grief of others as well.

There’s that quote that says “Grief is just love with no place to go” and while, YES, I love this, how true…. this year I’m thinking about how grief cracks your heart open so your love can spill E V E R Y W H E R E.

If you let it, your grief-love guides your attention to what matters.

Like, the taste of the summer peach, the click click click click of the nails of your furry familiar following you around the house, the warmth in the hug of your best friend, the most gasp-worthy beauty of a sunset, the tiny crinkle lines at the edges of your eyes showing proof of smiles, laughs, years well lived and well loved.

Perhaps this is a lesson embodied when you’ve walked with grief for a while - and maybe not as helpful if grief is raw and new. We don’t bypass the heaviness of grief over here in these parts - there’s space for the full spectrum of being human here in my world.

AND I guess what I’m holding onto today is the reminder that grief doesn’t go away and it isn’t a problem to be fixed, but if we stay with it and let it deepen us, it can change us for the better.

XO!!

*Griefwalker is a term I learned from Stephen Jenkinson.

JOURNAL PROMPT & INSPIRATION:

-What is important to you right now?

-Make a list of things you love.

-If you could describe where you’re holding your grief right now, where would it be?

-One of my favorite poets Andrea Gibson passed away in July and I’ve been inspired by the ways they lived and expressed their life while living with incurable cancer and the impact their death has made on the web of humans who knew them. Now I’m being deeply moved by their wife Meg - also a poet - and the words she’s sharing as she navigates fresh grief. You can check out both of their amazing work on Andrea’s substack, “Things That Don’t Suck”.

SONG I’M LOVING (GREAT FOR LEO SEASON): Lionheart by KAYNAH on Spotify
Lionheart by KAYNAH on YouTube

What I Would Tell 14-Year-Old Helen

Last month, I celebrated a 25 year diagnosis anniersary for type 1 diabetes on Friday, March 14. The milestone health anniversary was bookended this year with heavy barbell squats on the Thursday morning before and a 265 lb deadlift on the Saturday morning after. It made me think about what my body CAN do (hard things) instead of what my body CAN’T do (make insulin to digest sugar).

As I mulled over what I wanted to say about this anniversary, that honestly felt like a second birthday this year (and if you know me, you know how much I LOVE my birthday - a day to relish in the joy of being ALIVE!) and what I’ve learned over the past twenty-five years, I thought about that girl back in 2000 having to learn a new way to care for herself.

And this is what I would tell 14-year-old Helen:

Your strength is in your sensitivity and your ability to be present in the discomfort.

Numbers aren’t good or bad, just a roadmap of where you’re going and where to make adjustments to get where you want to be.

You’ll still be angry about the ridiculousness of health insurance and the cost of life saving medications all these years later, but technology will improve drastically and make your life (and blood sugar management) 100% better.

You’ll find work you love, a community of people you adore, and your family (including the family you married into!) will still be the best support system ever.

Don’t shy away from your grief, your humor, your joy. They are your superpowers.

Because of the care you give yourself, you’ll have the privilege of growing older: joints that are a little more stiff, cute crinkles at the sides of your eyes, and the start of Bonnie Raitt-esque white hairs.

I’m proud of us.

Keep your chin up, remember what’s important about being alive, savor the sweetness in all the things, and lean into your heart. It won’t steer you wrong!

Now over to you… what would you say to your younger self? How old is that version of you and what would you need to hear?

XO!

JOURNAL PROMPTS: 

—Looking back on where I’ve been and how far I’ve come, what would I say to my younger self?

-In honor of spring growth, what seeds am I wanting to plant? What have I already planted that’s already taking off and starting to bloom?

-With the seasonal shift from winter to spring, in what ways does my body, mind, spirit need nourishment? Where can I change my care plan, routine, rituals, habits to fit my current needs in this moment?

SONG FOR ARIES SEASON: Still A Fire by MILCK on Spotify
Still A Fire by MILCK YouTube version

SONG FOR RETURNING TO YOUR CENTER: now by John Pattern + Ram Dass on Spotify 
now by John Patter + Ram Dass YouTube version

Shedding Skin & How My Dream Helped Process Grief

How are you holding up out there in this wild, chaotic, overwhelming world?

It’s been since July of 2024 since I’ve written a blog post about my current musings and I’ve missed popping in your inbox from time to time.

(most of my blog drafts start out that way… “it’s been awhile since I’ve written…”
so I haven’t forgotten about you, my beloved email list! Hitting SEND more often this year is something I’m striving for)

But how are you really? How’s your heart? What’s on your mind? How does your body feel?

For me, I’m doing fairly well when I don’t get caught up in the doomscroll of the socials. I find I’m just trying to ride the waves of hope and despair* as I witness what’s happening in the world. 

(*From the words of one of my favorite poets Lyndsay Rush: There is nothing and everything to do / so when the world offers me the choice between hope and despair / I take one in each hand / and let go of what’s heavy. This whole Maggie Smith Said We Could Make This Place Beautiful poem is worth the read.)

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Currently (and finally!), I’m stepping away from a job and income source that hasn’t been a fit for a good while. It’s the Year of the Snake so it feels like an appropriate time for this ending/beginning and I’ve been wondering what it feels like for a snake to shed its skin.

Is it as uncomfortable as I feel to be in the messy middle of transition and change??

On one hand, it feels exciting and freeing. On the other hand, it’s hard to leave a place that feels familiar and end working relationships that I really loved.

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The other day I was driving home from my workout and I put on Defying Gravity from the Wicked Movie (theatre nerd alert!). As I was belting out some of the lyrics and getting emotional, I realized, “Oh. Under my anger is grief.” 

🎶Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leap 🎶

Feeling grief for not only how things have turned out and how things could’ve been, but for all the hard things in life that are happening right now.

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A couple nights later in the too-early-to-get-up wee hours of the morning, I had a dream about my dad. For those of you who are newer to my newsletter, my dad passed away from cancer when I was twelve.

In my dream, it was the last few days of my dad’s life but rather than being twelve, I was my adult self. It was so vivid that it woke me from sleep and I could literally feel the deep grief well up in my body and release through my tears, grateful to have one of my pups in bed to snuggle.

Feeling grief for not only how things have turned out and how things could’ve been, but for all the hard things in life that are happening right now.

Dreams (or visions in breathwork) like this have happened to me before where I get to process my trauma and loss as an adult and wow, what a powerful experience to have the subconscious (or other states of consciousness like in breathwork) help me with my healing.

It was as if a part of me knew that I needed that little pressure release valve to let out all the heavy and only in the softness of dreamland would I let my armor down for a moment.

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My wish for you on this full moon is to find the spaces and places that let you process all that you are carrying so you can let go of what’s heavy. For you to find your joy and play. For the support you need for your body, mind, heart as you shed any old skins. 

JOURNAL PROMPTS: 

-Is there anything in my life that feels like it’s run its course and needs to change? (Habits, thought patterns, relationships, projects, etc?) 

-Where am I ready to shed? 

-With the full moon, what feels full and good in my life?

-In what ways does my body, mind, heart need nourishment? 

SONG FOR SHEDDING SKIN: Metamorphosis by MILCK on Spotify
Metamorphosis by MILCK Official Audio YouTube version

Don't Let The Weight Fold You

“Don’t let the weight fold you.”

…my trainer said as I stepped out of the rack with 177.5 lbs on my back.

It’s not the heaviest I’ve squatted since getting back to barbell lifting, but we are definitely tickling the ceiling of my last personal record.

In the previous meetings of this weight, we talked about “fighting the fold”…..the tendency my upper body has to lose its strong position under the bar when the weight is really heavy as I try to lift up and out of the squat driving with my hips.

Fight the fold isn’t a new cue for me, but the way my coach worded it the other day resonated with a zing into my awareness.

DON’T LET THE WEIGHT FOLD YOU.

Often when I’m working with bodies in breathwork, craniosacral therapy, or energy healing sessions, something in the body and energy lights up for me. It’s like a part of the body or energy gets highlighted with a highlighter or draws me in like a magnet. It calls my attention, so I listen and follow, even if I don’t know exactly why until later.

That’s what this pre-lift pep-talk felt like for me! The impact of the words landed with a full body YEEESSSSS and a nudge to “pay attention.” Listen and follow.

So as I pondered why those words struck me differently that day while I rested between sets, I realized how the insight was meant for not only the moment at hand as I stood with that heaviness on my back, but for the moment I’m in (and WE are in) with life itself.

DON’T LET THE WEIGHT FOLD YOU.

Little did my trainer know that the night before I had laid down in my basement to do breathwork to one of my own playlists and, two breaths in, I cried the whole time.

I haven’t breathed for myself in awhile, so there was a lot to be released and the cleanse was much needed.

And so the contrast that next day of the strength and steady determination with weight lifting to the soft and messy tenderness of somatic healing practice was a great reminder of the full spectrum of being human.

We need both the strength and the softness.
We get to be both strong and tender (and everything in between).

Life and the world feels intense right now.
Maybe for you too?

If the weight feels heavy on your shoulders, don’t let it fold you.

Feel it.
Resist the hardening of your heart.
Keep showing up.
And remember we’ve got the coaches and space holders and friends and community and loved ones to help us through the discomfort.
That’s why we have spotters when we’re lifting heavy shit, yeah?

We are strong (and soft) enough for this.
Together.

PS: I crushed three sets of those squats! :)