Lessons on Love, Energy and Homemaking from a Finch

Hello lovely people, I hope this email finds you navigating these times with some grace, and appreciating the beauty when it comes.

With so much going on “out there” and coming up “in here”, it can be hard to keep our center. The one consistent message I keep getting is, “It’s all energy.” I suspect we are all in this boat of learning even more intensely how energy in the form of our thoughts or emotions influences everything. Here’s a story of how a Finch came into my life and exited my life leaving behind a powerful message about how my judgements effect even the smallest beings around us.

A few weeks ago, a small Finch had oddly decided to build her nest on a dried wreath hanging on the front door of my boyfriend’s house. Despite the fact that we went in and out of that door several times a day, the Finch was determined to build her nest there. And so she went on, day after day, meticulously building it and lining it with the softest materials she could find. She then proceeded to lay a couple of eggs a day until there were a total of 6 blue speckled eggs in the nest! We noticed she would carefully rotate them every night into a different configuration so that all of the eggs were receiving equal warmth. It was so strange and yet delightful and heartwarming that this bird clearly felt that “our” front door was a good, safe place to bring her chicks into the world.

Every day for nearly two weeks we checked the nest, excited to see if any of the eggs had hatched. We felt like eager parents awaiting the arrival of “our” Finch babies! Lol

It’s important to give a little context at this point. Prior to this event with the Finch, I had spent several months re-designing my boyfriend’s house. When we met, his home was in dire need of some TLC and a feminine touch. The interior was painted various shades of gray. The furniture was gray. Most of the area rugs were gray, and a large piece of gray scale art hung above the couch. One very nice aspect was a deep red accent wall encircling the fireplace in the living room. Other than that, the house felt like, well, a man cave. Nearly every square inch of wall space was occupied with dusty furniture, electronics, work out gear, crates of old dvds and albums, books, crystals, and piles of shoes, the result of almost a decade of bachelorhood and neglect from a very busy work schedule.  He admitted to me one day that he rarely spent any time in his living room because “the energy felt dark and depressing.” After finding it difficult myself to spend much time in there, I offered to help re-design the space. Since then, I’ve also re-designed his dining room, and am now re-designing the bedroom, backyard and we are planting a rose garden!

Here are some before and after photos of the living and dining rooms.

A cleaned up version of the old living room.

Re-designs don’t have to be large projects or involve remodels. A space can feel significantly better simply by de-cluttering, balancing negative and positive space, and bringing in more color and plants.

His second couch was removed and replaced with an altar and meditation area to align with the the Feng Shui “wisdom/knowledge” quadrant of his home. The room is now flooded with light from the large window and filled with life giving energy from plants, crystals, cascading water from the wall mounted water feature, and the meaningful items on his altar. Shoes are now hidden away in the storage bench underneath the water feature. This formerly dark and stagnant room is now filled with light, and life!

Former dining room

After re-design. I painted the gray walls off white, added a teal accent wall and brought in some colorful ocean themed items including a jellyfish painting, a woven blue and turquoise rug, seaweed looking plants and a new wooden redwood top for his room divider/console.

By giving these rooms a good energetic and physical cleaning, downsizing and removing the clutter, bringing in more light and color, and adding in natural elements of water, wood, and earth (plants) as well as applying the Feng Shui Bagua map (so the rooms are now in energetic alignment with their intended uses), I was able to transform them into true LIVING rooms, filled with light, and life! My boyfriend told me his living room used to be his least favorite room and now he loves coming home from a long day at work and relaxing there.

So, when the mother Finch decided to make her own home on the front door, it felt like a stamp of approval from nature herself for the changes that had been made and the obvious shift in energy within his home.

Unfortunately the story of the Finch does not have a happy ending, but an ending that came with a powerful lesson about how energy works.

Last weekend I became disappointed about some choices my boyfriend had made one night. Rather than spend the rest of the weekend with him, I chose to leave and return to my home where I spent the following 24 hours in deep judgement of him. About 11pm that night, 2 hours after I had left, my boyfriend heard a loud bang on his front door. He got up to see what had happened and discovered that the nest had been destroyed, the eggs smashed on the threshold below, and the only thing left of the mother bird were a few scattered feathers. A white cat sat on the sidewalk nearby, the likely culprit.

I woke the next day to texts and photos of the destruction. I was devastated, not only for the loss of life, but because deep down I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. I knew my judgmental energy and his anger had contributed to the attack.

A friend told me recently that love is like a shield and has its own protective power. When we are in our hearts and being loving toward the world, it not only attracts loving energy, it acts as a protective shield from negative forces. And conversely, when love is withdrawn and negative energy is directed toward someone, that shield of protection dissolves creating an opening for negativity to be directed back toward us like a boomerang. That night my boyfriend was feeling attacked by me, and so that energy dissolved our love shield, creating the opening for the cat to attack the bird. “Like attracts like” as they say. Overnight, the sweet mother Finch, who had blessed us with such a beautiful gift and (seeming) affirmation of the beautiful loving nest we were creating, was gone.

My heart sank as the realization of what had transpired continued to dawn on me. I can’t imagine a more perfectly “orchestrated” lesson for my boyfriend and I about energy and what homemaking truly means. While it’s certainly important for our well being to have well-designed homes that support us, what makes the biggest difference is the energy that we bring into and cultivate within our homes and our relationships. The outer material environment of a home will always start to reflect the inner world of its inhabitants.

We truly are intricately connected to everyone and everything around us.

Our thoughts are not safely contained within our minds as we often assume. In actuality, they are conscious energy streams, always rippling outward and drawing back to us matching energy. With our thoughts we are either creating a more loving and beautiful world, or contributing to its destruction. Closing off our hearts to each other creates a break in the great web of relationship. This has been a powerful lesson for my boyfriend and I, and I hope our story can serve you too. Love yourselves, and love each other!

If you’d like to read more about my interior design services, click here.

Grief's Soulful Invitation

“It was through the dark waters of grief that I came to touch my un-lived life.”

— Francis Weller

Grief’s Soulful Invitation

Grief’s Soulful Invitation

There is so much grief in the world right now. Layers upon layers. Our grief is palpably heavy and yet, grief has its own beauty and sacred purpose.

We all carry layers of grief ranging from painful childhood experiences to grief from trauma and personal losses, to grief from diverted or shattered dreams, to ancestral grief that’s been passed down to us. Many carry grief about the wars and growing darkness in the world and from the loss of community to hold us in times like these. And, of course there’s the grief that can arise this time of year from the commercialization and materialization of what should be a sacred time.

Anyone who has experienced grief knows its power to instantly strip away all the superficial surface stuff of life that doesn't matter. In grief, we realize that much of what we spend our days focused on is pretty meaningless. In those precious, vulnerable moments, through tear-soaked eyes we see only what matters. Grief says "this person, pet, relationship, etc. really meant something to me." In this way, grief is an expression of how deeply we love and care.

Grief leaves us feeling bare with hearts exposed, and it is precisely that feeling that many avoid at all costs, but when grief hits, it often takes us by surprise knocking us off our feet. All of our defenses, protection and armor dissolve leaving us, perhaps for the first time naked and transparent, as our true selves.

Yes, feeling our pain is incredibly vulnerable, however it is also a rare opportunity to experience ourselves as we authentically are. If we can surrender and say “yes” to this soulful invitation that grief offers, it can take us on a profound journey of healing, self discovery, and a new more humble and open-hearted way of being in the world.

The journey of grief, although painful, can become the dark fertile soil for our spiritual growth, if we can surrender and allow it to work on us.

We don't have to wait for an injury or death as there is already plenty of unprocessed grief within most of us. Choosing to intentionally and regularly dip into our well of grief requires some courage but can be a softer, more gentler approach that prepares and primes the emotional and nervous system for the next inevitable loss or heartbreak.

Those who have experienced a lot of loss, trauma, or hardship know that grief has a way of building us from the inside out. It widens us, carving us like a wooden bowl, increasing our capacity to be with and hold more of life, both the sorrows and the joy. In fact, the more we allow ourselves to go into our grief and empty out the heaviness we carry, the more space we have for the joys, wonder, and immense beauty the world has to offer us. Life becomes fresh, wondrous, and precious once again.

Grief doesn't destroy us. If we are open, it can be a revelatory process that shows us who we are and what we value. It clears the decks of all distractions and illusions to perhaps begin to build a new life rooted in what is real and what matters most. This is grief’s soulful invitation.

Allowing ourselves to feel the depths of our pain also connects us to our humanity, to what makes us human. It is a common thread we all share. Feeling our own pain enables us to more gracefully be with the pain of others, because we know what it's like. We've been there. Grief makes us better, more compassionate humans.

Grief is also just good emotional hygiene.  As our world becomes more tumultuous, we are going to need all the emotional tools we can get. Grief has proven over and over to be one of my most trusted touchstones for remaining sane, open-hearted and present.

A Heartfelt Invitation

I help people gently begin to touch their grief and form a new healthy relationship to it through ritual. In the old ways of healing, I take people into private, beautiful places in nature and in collaboration with the creeks, land, trees, birds, ancestors, and their higher power, I guide people on a 3 hour journey into the fertile soil of their grief. The process is transformative and forever changes the person's understanding and relationship to their grief and self. Grief transforms from a hardened, congealed, un-metabolized mass in their bellies to a helpful life companion and ally. I invite you to this life changing experience.

In these times, may you be held in the ways you need.

May your grief keep you grounded, humble and compassionate.

May your gratitude keep you trusting, feeling connected and your heart open.

If you'd like to read more about my grief work, click here or feel free to message me directly with questions. You can read a detailed client testimonial here.

The Great Reckoning

“P.S. Help me, don’t hurt me” was the post script to a note written in pink pen that I’d discovered in a box of old things. The note, written 30 years ago, brought a flood of memories back to a time when I was a very wounded young woman. A time where I was just beginning to process some traumatic experiences in my childhood and I was consumed by my own pain. A wave of guilt moved through me as I read her note imploring me to talk to her rather than yell and call her names. I don’t remember reading the note or feeling any remorse for my actions back then. All I remember is feeling a hardness within myself and judgement as this person proceeded to go down a dark road of addiction.

Reading her note and recalling all that had transpired in our lives since then, I sat with the hard realization that I had utterly failed this family member who looked up to me and had reached out to me for support. I don’t blame myself for her addiction, but I do wonder if I had been kinder, more understanding, less judgemental, and less consumed with my own pain, whether she might have felt less alone in what she was going through, and if that might have made even a subtle difference in her life. It’s a painful thought. And one that got me thinking about others I have hurt in my life while stuck in unconscious patterns of self protection, avoidance, and denial.

She and I had not spoken in years, but she has become the first of several people whom I have written letters to this winter, acknowledging the pain and hurt I’ve caused them. In my woundedness, I said and did things that deeply hurt people I care about. While my actions weren’t intentional or even conscious, I was perhaps willfully blind to the impact they had for many years. It’s been devastating at times to feel in to how those actions or patterns of behavior must have felt on their end. I’ve found myself weeping in deep remorse for things I’ve done and opportunities lost for a closer relationship with them. It's been a humbling and sobering experience, but the grief process has brought a familiar and welcome cleansing.

Since writing these letters, I’ve noticed an interesting effect of feeling more here in owning who I've been. My denial or willfull blindness prevented me from truly knowing myself. Parts of me were hidden in shame. In my humility and remorse, I feel more real, more here, more present. I see a more crisp and defined image of myself in the mirror. I feel more integrated having gathered these wounded parts of myself up, having felt their pain, and in compassion am finding forgiveness for myself.

This has been my great reckoning.

I believe we are all experiencing some form of personal reckoning as well as a great collective/planetary reckoning. What do I mean by this? According to Merriam Webster, a reckoning is “a time when the consequences of a course of mistakes or misdeeds are felt.”

Many of us are experiencing the consequences or a “settling up” of our debts: interpersonally, societally, and with the earth. The ancient saying “As above, so below,” applies. The macrocosm of global reckoning (planetary turmoil) is reflecting the microcosm of personal reckoning happening within each one of us. We are all interconnected with the earth and so what the planet is going through, we feel, and what we are experiencing collectively, the planet feels, and reflects back to us.

I don’t know where we are heading, but I do know we can no longer continue in separation consciousness. We may all very well end up standing bare, with shattered hearts on parched earth. And perhaps that is what is necessary for humanity to change course and find its way back into right relationship with itself and our planet.

We can only exist separated and disconnected from our true selves, and each other for so long before our facades begin to crack and crumble. I know that my meticulously constructed personality/ego defense structure is crumbling, and I am welcoming it. I no longer desire to exist in a defensive, fearful, and reactionary way. I’m ready to live as my fully authentic self, to trust life and my unique soul’s path, to live in loving compassion with others, and in an honoring and reciprocal relationship with the earth.

There are two touchstones that I’ve come to rely on these intense times: grief and gratitude. Grief has a way of cleansing and emptying me of everything that is not me. It strips me bare and all that remains is Truth. Whenever things feel too hard or I feel squeezed too tight by life, I find the space to release until I’m emptied. I feel raw and vulnerable afterward, but there is such a beautiful transparency when we are in this state. In this state we are closest to our truest selves. The defense/ego structure collapses and all that is left is our inner light shining through tear-soaked eyes.

Gratitude goes hand in hand with grief. Without gratitude we can get lost in our pain. Gratitude balances grief and reminds us of all of the beauty that surrounds us, that life is worth living. Grief keeps us authentic and humble. Gratitude keeps our hearts soft and open.

Whatever form your reckoning may be taking, I wish you a wellspring of grief, gratitude, and loving compassion to help guide your way.

The Power of Grieving Communally

“I’m here because I lost my child. He was my son for 18 years and my daughter for one year before she left us.”

“I’m here because I lost my Mom recently and I feel numb. I want to feel again.”

“I’m here because grief has always been with me. I’ve been in a form of grief my entire life.”

As we went around the circle at a recent community grief ritual, the lump in my throat grew with each person’s story. Although the details of everyone’s grief were different, their pain touched a familiar place in me. As each person shared, I watched as their chests softened, their shoulders dropped, their faces and mouths relaxed, and, bathed in tears, their eyes sparkled. At their most humble and vulnerable, they couldn’t hold back their light. The light of pure, unfiltered truth. One by one, we all transformed from guarded, gaze-avoidant, hardened, angry, exhausted, broken beings into vessels of honesty, compassion and love. In a chilly room with pale walls, linoleum tile, and plastic chairs, the most beautiful scene unfolded. We became human again. Rosey, tear streaked cheeks, warm grateful smiles, eyes connecting just long enough to say “I see your pain. Thank you for being here.”

And those were just the introductions. The ritual itself created a powerful container for 30 complete strangers to dance, sing, grieve, and support each other through the process. In those hours we remembered what true community is: the trust, acceptance, belonging, and peace our ancestors experienced and took for granted as a village family. That remembering brought another layer of grief into the room, of what essential cultural pieces have gotten lost in our modern world. It also brought a deep gratitude that we were participating in their recovery and restoration.

Co-Dependent Christmas Chronicles (click for full post)

Sitting in the back seat of my parent’s car sandwiched between two fluffy white Bichons, I lost it. “If I can’t be me in this family, I’m not going to keep coming back. If I have to be some small version of myself that doesn’t have boundaries, allows verbal and emotional abuse, control, manipulation, insults, belittling, and ultimatums just to keep the peace, then I won’t be a part of this family anymore. I’m DONE.”

By then I was sobbing and Henry, one of the Bichons had crawled onto my lap laying his head on my knee. This Christmas I had sworn not to do what I normally do when I visit my family— put my spiritual life and practices aside, dutifully attend their church, participate in their prayers over every meal even when mine aren’t invited, exhaust myself running around trying to spend quality one-on-one time with every family member, and tip toe around, biting my tongue or retreating to my room during certain family member’s domineering and abusive behavior. The little girl in me was scared. These were tried and true survival strategies. Why would I abandon them now?!

I suspect like many other co-dependents out there, I’m realizing that the self abandonment that comes with these worn out coping strategies is just not worth it anymore, if it ever was. The shrinking and diminished sense of self I always feel after these family visits only adds to the ocean of resentment that has built up since childhood. It’s an outdated submissive role that I inherited from my mother who inherited from her mother going back generations. The belief being, “I must deny my needs and desires to be a full participant in my relationships or I will be abandoned and lose love.” The truth is this belief has only perpetuated this unhealthy dynamic in my family and resulted in my abandoning myself over and over again. It’s not their fault. As an adult, it’s my responsibility to create my own safety with strong boundaries, and to trust and love myself enough to be and include my whole self in whatever company I’m in.

Perhaps it’s the pandemic that has given me the spaciousness and clarity to finally see how this old belief that I must passively engage in relationships has gotten me into more toxic relationships with men than I like to admit, but I’m grateful to finally be getting the memo: CO-DEPENDENCY IS KILLING ME!!!

The pattern began when I was 1 and 2 years old, when I was physically, verbally and sexually abused by a few older male relatives (none who are still in my life). It wasn’t safe to say “no”. It wasn’t safe to occupy space or express my needs and desires. And I witnessed my mother, aunt and grandmother modeling the same self abandonment. The men in our family were somehow allowed to be loud, take up physical and conversational space in the room, at the dinner table, say inappropriate things or behave poorly. The women were not, and seemed to quietly go along with it all, but I know they were only doing what they knew in order to survive. The men had the power and the held the purse strings.

And I want to acknowledge all the sensitive men and LGBTQ folks out there who have also felt sidelined, diminished, belittled, threatened and made into small, passive, compliant versions of themselves in order to survive the patriarchy we’ve all been subjected to.

All I can say now is thank Goddess, times are a changing!

Two days before I was scheduled to return from my trip, I did something radical. I told a family member “No.” I drew a boundary around my time and stuck with it despite threats to cut me out of their lives. I stood my ground to protect something that was important to me and allowed the emotional fallout. “This is really selfish of you” was the response. And sure enough, within a couple hours multiple family members were calling my Dad to defend this person’s position. For the first time, I heard a voice in my head say “Sometimes it’s ok to be selfish.” As a life-long co-dependent, those words struck terror in my heart that this choice would cost me my family. Despite that fear, I typed the words “I’m ok with that.” and pressed “Send” allowing the tectonic shift to reverberate through my body, and through my family.

Part 2

Flanked by my parent’s two fluffy white bichons in the back seat of their CRV, I was sobbing. Shedding the kind of tears you cry when you’re really done with a situation and already feeling the grief of the impending loss. “We all have choice, but there’s a cost to the choices we make,” said my Dad, referring to a recent argument I had with a relative where I drew a strong boundary around my time. “Yes, there is,” I replied. “But there’s a much bigger cost in abandoning myself and needs again and again. I will acknowledge people’s feelings, but I will not make myself responsible for them anymore. I feel badly that this person is hurt because of a choice I made for myself, but I would be feeling much worse right now if I’d given in and then missed out on what I was really needing. Additionally, I will no longer tip toe around and bite my tongue in the midst of [another family member’s] verbal and emotional abuse. I will speak up. So, either this be ok and I be allowed to be my full self, including my spiritual self, or I can no longer be a part of this family. I won’t continue to play my old passive role in this dysfunction.”

These were some the hardest words I’ve ever spoken, and to the people I love most in the world. But at some point I believe we all come to a crossroads in our relationships where we are presented a choice, to continue on the same path of self abandonment, to come to a new understanding and agreement towards a healthier dynamic, or walk away. That day I found words spilling out of my mouth that even surprised me. I certainly hadn’t anticipated traveling thousands of miles to draw a hard line with my family, but there we were.

2021 was a year of deepening trust in myself. I had very intentionally decided last January to trust more in my intuition, discernment, choices and decisions. Well, guess what happens when you decide to trust yourself? You’re given more opportunities to trust yourself! In November I had an experience that showed me some blindspots in my life, especially around some relationship dynamics that were depleting and draining me of my energy. I came out of that experience with crystalline clarity about what I was no longer willing to accept in my life and that my own co-dependency patterns that enabled these dynamics needed to end. [Co-dependency is a set of unconscious behavior patterns that arise from valuing everyone else’s needs over one’s own.]

So when I went back to my parent’s for Christmas and made a decision around my (very limited) time, which upset a family member, I had to decide: would I do what I’d always done and give in to other people’s demands in order to appease and keep the peace, or would I honor my own needs and face the fallout? This time I chose the latter. Sadly, the fallout continues as I find myself blocked by this person who I love very much. My Dad was right, there is a cost to our choices. It hurts knowing that something I did hurt someone I love and someone I would never intentionally hurt and that it’s created a rift in our relationship, but I know that if I hadn’t stuck with my decision, I would be resentful towards them and angry at myself for not taking a stand. 

Fortunately, the conversation with my parents in the car ride home evolved to a point where I felt mostly heard and understood. I relaxed back in my seat watching the beautiful Montana winter landscape out my window, and feeling grateful for my parent’s ability to compassionately listen and make a real effort to understand. 

As we continued our drive, I realized we were about to pass the house where my grandparents had lived for 65 years, prior to their deaths 10 years ago. My parents, siblings, and I all had so many memories of time spent there. Memories spanning from wonderful to very painful. As we got closer I recalled that I had a bag of cansasa in my purse (Lakota word for ceremonial tobacco and herb mixture) that I carry for blessing land. 

“Dad I’d like to stop and make a prayer for our family.” “No Ros,” my Mom interjected. “I’m too tired. I want to get home.” “Mom, this is a part of what I’ve been trying to get across. I’ve participated in your prayers all week, even going to two church services with you, which I often do when I come to visit. In order for me to feel like a full participant in this family, I need my spiritual life and needs to be respected too. All I’m asking is that we step out of the car for 5 minutes to pray together.”

Reluctantly, my parents agreed. We pulled over and parked near the pond that sits next to my grandparent’s former white and green craftsman style house and walked onto what felt like ancestral land. My mother was raised there. She was also sexually abused there, as was I, but we both have a lot of good memories too, including learning to ice skate on that pond, and getting married there in my twenties. 

As we stepped into the yard, I noticed the chipping paint and decay of the abandoned house. It was dark inside and the outside had a shadowy, barren quality, a stark contrast to a home that had held so much life for more than half a century. As we faced the pond, I felt the strong presence of the tall, hundred-year-old Cottonwood trees surrounding it, the obvious guardians of that land. Birds chirped and a soft gust of wind passed through. Despite the house feeling cold and barren, the land was very much alive. As I stood there a rush of memories came flooding back including the countless hours I spent as a little girl swinging on a tire swing that still hung from one of those trees and lying in the autumn grass looking up at the leaves blowing down around me, and the snow hill my grandfather would build every winter so that his grandchildren could sled down and fly across the frozen pond. It was a beautiful, idyllic place and I struggled for a few moments to reconcile all the good memories with the darker ones. 

I poured a little cansasa into each of my parent’s hands. Then held mine out toward the pond and made the most heart-felt prayer of my life. I asked for the presence of the Great Mother and Great Father, my maternal ancestors who are well and at peace, as well as the elements and nature spirits of that land. I invited the ancestors of the natives who once moved through and stewarded that land, and likely enjoyed the hot springs nearby. I prayed to all who had loved that land and who wished our family well to join us. I thanked them for the immense blessing of having gotten to enjoy that land for so many decades and thanked the land itself for offering so much beauty, and sanctuary and peace during the hard times. I asked them to acknowledge all the joy and love within our family, but also to acknowledge the harm that has been inflicted and the ancestral trauma that has passed down through the generations via addiction and abuse. Finally, I asked for help in healing these ancestral wounds that continued to play out in our family. 

When I finished, my mom and I embraced tearfully while my Dad thanked the 4 directions and made a beautiful prayer in Lakota for our healing. My Mom thanked Jesus, and we closed the ritual.

I don’t think our prayers lasted more than 10 minutes, but it felt incredibly healing for me, like a monumental threshold had been crossed. The prayer became a conversation between not just the three of us, but all who we invited to honor the lives lived and the land it all unfolded upon. It felt inclusive, and for the first time within my family, I felt fully included as a sovereign spiritual woman in her own right. 

Once in the car I announced “Next I’d like to stop near “the stack” and make a prayer, and then a final stop at MY childhood home.” I received no pushback, and so off we went. The “stack” is the local name for an enormous 585 foot smoke stack built by an abandoned copper mining company. The nearby town I grew up in is well known for this landmark, but perhaps lesser known for the toxic environmental and cultural legacy it left behind. The mining company shut down in 1980 leaving behind miles of toxic tailings and devastated landscape as well as a collapsed economy.  This all contributed to widespread depression and addiction among many of the locals that continues to this day. 

We pulled off the road near the base of the stack and this time only my Dad and I got out of the car. I didn’t push my Mom to join us. I knew the previous stop was probably bringing up a lot for her. By then the temperature had dropped to 10 degrees above zero with a bitter cold wind. My Dad and I knelt behind the car for shelter. This time he led the prayer. 

As someone who worked in social services since the early 70’s, my Dad knew first hand the impact that the mining industry and its collapse had on the communities he served, as he was often called to homes for reports of addiction and abuse. His prayer reflected those experiences. As he spoke I could hear the heartbreak in his voice still lingering in him for the families he couldn’t fully help and all the loss and devastation that area had endured. But I could also hear his strong faith. His faith in people, his faith in the resilience of the land, and his faith in God. Using both English and Lakota words and phrases, he asked for healing of the land, healing for the people in the surrounding communities, and for a new kind of relationship to form between the people and the land. It was a rare opportunity to experience this side of my Dad, to witness a merging of the various worlds he has walked in throughout his life. Having grown up on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota and greatly influenced by the Lakota’s culture and earth-based spirituality, but also as the son of an Episcopal priest and husband to a strong Christian woman, I’m sure it hasn’t always been easy for him to reconcile his Christian side with the deep respect he has for the spiritual wisdom traditions of the Lakota people. I have a tremendous amount of respect for his ability to see the commonalities and universal truths in both cosmologies. That afternoon I could see a stronger spiritual sovereignty arise in my Dad too. An inner knowing that he didn’t have to choose. Both cosmologies were a part of him and deserved honoring. 

Together we distributed the cansasa on the land and then jumped in the car, grateful to warm our hands up as we headed for my childhood home. Fortunately all these places were within a 10-15 minute drive of each other and all on the route back to my parent’s home. 

By the time we arrived at the place where I was raised, I was the only one to get out of the car, which was perfect because, this stop was for me. The house I’d grown up in was no longer there, replaced with another house, but the land was intimately familiar. Fortunately the current owners weren’t home and so I walked a few steps into the yard. As I sprinkled the cansasa onto the white snow, I thanked that land, the willow trees and pastures surrounding it for being a refuge and wonderland for me as a child. I attribute much of my love for nature to growing up there with plenty of space to run and explore and also retreat when times were hard. It was one of the few places as a kid I felt safe to fully be myself. I also had my first mystical experience in the field behind our house. Like the touchstone that the land, cottonwood trees, and pond had been for my Mom as a girl, this land had been that for me. 

I spoke of the joy and freedom I felt as a child and I also acknowledged the painful events I experienced growing up there, not just in my home, but by enduring years of bullying at school. And I acknowledged the dysfunctional patterns that I had inherited as a way to cope with it all. They were survival strategies and definitely helped me survive those experiences, but putting everyone else’s needs ahead of my own hasn’t served me or my relationships in a very long time. Quite the opposite. I had finally experienced enough of living in perpetual survival mode to see all the ways my co-dependency patterns were sabotaging my life and preventing me from becoming the sovereign woman I want to be. 

So there, where it all began, I declared with God/Creator/Spirit, Jesus, Mother Mary, Mary Magdalene, our ancestors, guides, and the spirits of that land all as my witnesses that I was ready to let go of those patterns. There I laid down layers of emotional armor and protection, people pleasing and other manipulative strategies, self abandonment, and asked for help going forward. Help to always honor and respect myself equally with others, and to stay true to my soul’s path, no matter what. Feeling a conviction in my words, I thanked everyone for their witnessing, support and love, and closed the prayer.

As I stood there, taking in the experience, everything looked a little clearer and crisper, my peripheral vision seemed to be taking in more of the landscape and I could feel the full weight of my body firmly planted on the ground. Interestingly, I felt I had landed a bit more inside my body. I waited a few more moments as these subtle shifts in my awareness continued. I could feel myself “filling out.” Somehow, more of me was standing there in the snow than when I’d arrived. 

I got in the car and closed door. As my Dad drove off I looked back at what was my childhood home and smiled, realizing I was finally coming home to me. 

You are as perfect as a Rose

It's no coincidence that women's lady parts look like a flower. It's another aspect of nature's brilliant design. With so much shame around this part of women's bodies we forget that we are all as precious and delicate and beautiful and deserving of the same care and reverence as this Rose. We wouldn't grab a Rose or treat it aggressively. It would fall apart in our hands.

When we as women begin to see ourselves as uniquely beautiful as a flower in a flower garden-- each one so unique and worthy of awe, celebration, and tender care-- we not only bloom bigger, brighter and more colorfully, we start to see the beauty in the unique expression of every other woman. No longer seeing each other as competition but as participants in a glorious global garden of diverse femininity.

Additionally, as we bloom bigger and brighter we are bound to attract more attention to us, so we should not be afraid to use our thorns if we are approached disrespectfully. Boundaries are important. Roses use their thorns ruthlessly and no one blames the Rose. You are worthy of the same protection and respect. I'm ever grateful for the many lessons nature offers us on how to live in harmony with each other.

A Time to Pray

“Stressed out. And terrified.” That was the response I received to asking a family member how she was doing recently. I sat with that text for a good while, not sure how to respond. This person has a one year old baby and her husband has been laid off. As a single woman, I can’t imagine the stress of being a new parent much less trying to be a decent parent and provider during this pandemic. 

I told myself I wasn’t going to respond until I had something truly helpful to say. I went about my day feeling my own waves of emotion rise and fall. Then the word “Pray” came to me. I knew it was for me, but later realized it was for her too. So, I sat down, put my hand on my heart and said “Great Spirit, Ancestors, this is too much for me. This is too much for all of us. I’m lost. We’re lost. I don’t know what to do. So I’m handing it all over to you. I surrender.” Then I stumbled to my bed and cried deep sobs of everything I had been tightly holding and clinging onto or trying to manage and control in my life. I let it all go. I laid there feeling an excruciating vulnerability of being cracked wide open, exposed, without any defenses. I felt my most basic, raw, human self lying there. I’d experienced this hollowed out place only a few times in my life— once during my divorce, once before I left city life and moved to the woods, and again in 2017 after 3 traumatic events left me with PSTD. I knew this feeling and that it was a threshold place. Every other time I’d experienced it, the few previous times in my life when I fully completely surrendered control, my life changed dramatically afterward. 

This time, as I lay there resisting the urge to contract, I felt a deep peace come over me. This time I didn’t feel horribly alone or that the road ahead was going to be a lonely one. This time, I felt the presence of many. With my eyes closed, I could feel the presence of a multitude expanding around me. I knew I was being surrounded by thousands of relatives who had lived and died during past pandemics, wars, natural disasters, and famines. I cried knowing that they knew exactly what I was experiencing and far worse: the fear, anxiety, uncertainty, rage at an ineffective, uncaring governments, and grief. I could see the tears of compassion and understanding in their eyes as they looked at me. I felt deeply loved. There was SO much love. I felt connected to something so great and vast, a belonging to a long resilient, and resourced lineage. 

As I lay there, I began to feel a warmth and a new feeling of strength rising outward from the core of my chest— the same place I’d been feeling a collapsing tightness for weeks. I began to feel resourced in a way I’ve never felt. I could see that I was on the front lines of a lineage that KNEW how to survive everything humanity has ever faced. I had access to ALL of that knowledge and wisdom. It was available to me. It is available to us ALL! In that moment, I knew it was only a request away. So I closed my eyes, placed my hand on my heart and prayed again. “Please, show me the way. Show us all the way out of this in the most healing way possible.” Another wave of grief washed over me. I laid back down and wept a good long while. Afterward, I pulled myself up feeling emptied, lighter. The weight of all I had been carrying was gone. My prayer had been answered in that simple act of allowing myself to fully grieve, as my ancestors had done while they were in bodies, and to feel their eternal loving presence around me.

There are no quick solutions to our world’s problems. There are no easy answers, but we can always allow ourselves to feel, and in doing so, we honor our deeply feeling selves that care and love our world so much.

Peaks and Valleys

3 years ago today this was me sitting on the flanks of MT Shasta healing from a narcissistic abusive relationship. 3 years prior to that I was also starting over, having just moved from San Francisco to one of the most beautiful, magical places in the world. I wouldn't have believed it if someone had told me that 3 years later I would be starting over again, this time building myself back up physically, emotionally, and psychologically at 90 pounds with PTSD. Again, if someone had told the woman in this photo that 3 years from then, on this New Years day, I would finally be with my Beloved after many years of friendship planning our lives together, I wouldn't have believed it either. But today, as I sit on this proverbial mountain peak, I know my descent into another valley is ahead of me.

Living a soul-driven life isn't all magic and rainbows. It simply means surrendering to being guided on your path through the peaks and valleys knowing you will be challenged in ways you wouldn't ever have volunteered for or imagined for yourself. Years later, you will realize that you were led to the exact experience you needed in preparation for the next part of your journey. Because, in the end, it's not about what we've been through, but who we become as a result of our experiences. It's about what we learn, who we grow into, and how wide our capacity for empathy grows towards others experiencing their own peaks and valleys.

I truly believe that through our experiences life is preparing us to be the greatest versions of ourselves. We can resist the valleys, but its the hardship that transforms us, and makes the peaks feel sooo good and satisfyingly well earned.

As I sit at this current peak looking back at my life, I'm amazed at how much I've changed, softened, surrendered, let go of perfection and control, and as a result how much more connected I feel to others. I wouldn't change any of it. 🙏

Thank you, Donald Trump

I think I took my first full breath in 4 years last night. Continuing to breathe huge sighs of relief today, not that Biden is our President, (actually couldn't finish listening to his quasi-genuine acceptance speech), but that we no longer have someone in the highest office who has such vile contempt for the feminine, for those who have been marginalized, for anyone who dares disagree with him, for our earth, and for Life itself.

Biden isn't anywhere on my list of ideal Presidents, but he's also not the poster child for malignant narcissism, finding joy in creating constant chaos and taking people down. For that I have tears of gratitude today. At least for now our nervous systems can rest knowing that we will no longer be subjected to the daily crazy and insanity of Trump's inner demons.

That said, it's not lost on me the important cultural role that Trump played in being a mirror for the rest of us. Being immersed in a deeply narcissistic/self-centered culture, we all find ourselves somewhere on the narcissism spectrum. I've been in a deep inquiry about my own narcissistic parts over the past few years, their roots, how they express themselves in the world, and how to bring more loving compassion to those parts that find safety in closing off, shutting down, judging, projecting, or lashing out.

Our collective psyche is in an intense healing initiation that will require every one of us to look honestly in the mirror. I pray today that we each find compassion for all the ways we cope with being "walking wounded." Our narcissistic coping strategies may give us the illusion of safety and protection, but they also deny us true intimacy with ourselves and each other, cutting us off from the deeper connections we are all craving. Cultural inclusion can't happen until we include all the parts of ourselves we've rejected.

So, thank you Donald Trump for holding up a mirror of our collective inner demons, which aren't actually demons at all, but our deeply wounded inner children. Now that we've seen you demonstrate what happens when we let our pain run the show, we can do things differently. As Maya Angelou said "When you know better, you do better." May we do better.

The Epidemic of Narcissism and How I Survived Narcissistic Abuse

According to author Francis Weller, community no longer exists in the Western World. “We have collectives of individuals, but we no longer have true community.” For a population who largely equates community with their social media groups and followings, but where deeper, authentic connections are rare and even more rarely sustained, I have to agree.  Without the accountability of the village, we’ve grown accustomed to hiding our real experiences behind grinning selfies, photos of our pets, and memes. Everyone is vying for the most “likes” and “views” but our deeper needs of belonging aren’t being met.   

We live in a culture that values individualism above all else and we’re seeing the lonely and isolating effects of this, especially on social media where being liked has an actual algorithm and where advertisers are benefitting monetarily from our needs for connection and to belong. We even had a President who Tweeted obsessively and unabashedly calls himself the greatest President that ever was. It may seem funny on the surface, but there's a sad and even dangerous underbelly to all the pretense. That dangerous underbelly is narcissism. While narcissism may seem innocuous, it is anything but. Affecting all ages, socio economic groups, and races, the epidemic of narcissism is wreaking havoc across Western culture and having devastating effects in people’s personal lives. 

First, it’s important to note that narcissism is gauged on a spectrum. Because we are all steeped in a highly narcissistic "me" obsessed culture, we have become unable to see that the very water we swim in is polluted. Because we have all been socialized into narcissistic coping strategies and ways of relating, we all fall on the narcissism spectrum somewhere. 

While we all have narcissistic tendencies, not everyone is a clinically defined “narcissist.” Those who fall at the far end of the spectrum have what is known as Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). NPD is characterized by an unusual preoccupation with power, control, extreme selfishness, and abusive behavior towards others. At the root is a disconnection from life and a healthy sense of self. This article deals with my experience and those I've known who have been in direct relationship with people with NPD. Fortunately, more and more is being written about narcissism and so more are feeling safe to share their stories. Since I began speaking out about my experience with a narcissistic brother, dating several narcissists, and losing a friend to suicide from narcissistic abuse, I've had many people reach out to me and tell me of their own stories.

Most recently I was sitting in the park with a friend who hasn't been himself since returning from a year he spent in Southern California. He described the depression he developed after  losing his dog who died during his time there, and then meeting a fellow traveler who befriended him in his grief only to later turn on him. According to my friend, the man who befriended him repeatedly mocked and belittled him, and at one point handed him a noose he'd made out of rope telling him to "snap out of it [his grief] or do everyone a favor and hang yourself." Worn down, my friend eventually gave the man everything in his bank account and hopped on a train north, knowing if he didn't get away from this man, in his weakened state he might just end his own life (a sad and common fate for many victims of narcissistic abuse). Two years later, my friend is no longer the same light hearted, loving, bright, free spirit he once was. The twinkle in his eyes is gone, replaced with a blank stare. He has lost weight on his already thin frame and is missing the vitality he was once known for.

I know the dark place of despair he is in. I was there 4 years ago, barely 90 pounds, recovering from a narcissistic abusive relationship with a dangerous man. At the time that I met him, I was also deep in grief and recovering from the death of a friend, a beautiful singer/songwriter who had taken her life after a string of traumatic events that began with a narcissistic abusive relationship. Because narcissists need power, they often attach themselves to those who are in weakened states from grief or illness, or who are highly sensitive types such as empaths, healers, or those who co-dependently believe they can rescue, save, or heal them. 

Sadly, my friend Lisa found herself with PTSD in the aftermath of her relationship with a narcissist, which caused her to make a string of poor decisions about her health, one that resulted in her acquiring permanent facial paralysis. She came to stay with me a few months after the paralysis set in. By then she was bone thin and experiencing constant psychological “trauma loops”. Her family, friends and I did everything we knew to help her, but we didn't understand that she had something known as Complex PTSD, a type of trauma that occurs progressively and cumulatively over time. Despite her repeated claims that she needed trauma therapy, she didn't get the treatment she needed and tragically took her life two months after coming to stay with me. 

In my own case, my ex presented himself as a compassionate listener and comforting support in my grief after Lisa's death.

The first 2 months of our relationship were blissful. I believed I’d found my person. But just as we began settling into a rhythm together and talking of a shared future, a new side of his personality emerged, one that was demanding, entitled and demeaning. He seemed to grow restless and bored with prolonged periods of normalcy, even if we had been feeling close and in love. It seemed to excite him to start fights over the slightest of things, and especially if something happened that triggered his many insecurities. I later learned that it is a common behavior of narcissists to create "control dramas” where they can quickly elevate themselves into a position of power to mask the unbearable feeling of emptiness or insecurity they feel. Narcissists often carry a deep sense of emptiness and shame about that, so they often go about filling that void through constantly seeking sources of energetic “supply”. It’s very much a vampiric and addictive behavior where the narcissist behaves as what trauma expert Gabor Mate refers to as a “hungry ghost,” always seeking their next “fix” of energy or power. Control dramas often offer them the fix they are seeking. In my case, my ex would frequently start an argument then gaslight or withdraw love until, in my confusion, resignation, or emotional exhaustion, I would go to him and apologize. The cycle would repeat 2-3 times/week. For myself and many victims of narcissists, this cycle results in severely draining their victims of energy, life force, confidence and self esteem.

Just 6 months into my relationship, the effects of this repeated cycle were devastating. I found myself over the Christmas holiday standing naked at 90 pounds in my parent's shower feeling utterly powerless and on the verge of insanity. I recall looking down at my inverted belly button and beating my chest with my fist because my heart had been pounding for nearly 2 months straight. It felt as if a drip line had been attached to my solar plexus, as each day my will to live drained from my body. This had the mental effect of putting me into fight or flight mode where my brain responded with large amounts of adrenaline and cortisol as if I was existing in a constant life threatening situation (I was!). My metabolism sky rocketed and no matter how much I ate, I only found myself losing more weight. The world around me turned gray and things I used to find joy in such as nature, had no effect. 

Ironically, one year after Lisa had come to live with me, suicidal and with Complex Trauma, I was in the exact same state. It's a dangerous place to be in for long. It's where death energy and despair takes a hold of you. It took everything in me over the next year to fight for my life. I'm so grateful to my parents who helped me to see what was happening to me. What I understand now is that, like Lisa, I also had complex PTSD. It took 2 years to heal enough to fully function again, and it’s taken me even longer to make sense of the experience. 

I am so grateful to my family who helped me to see what was happening to me. I also want to thank my ex's former wife who, like an angel, came to my aid spending hours talking with me and sharing her own experiences of being with him. It was so validating to hear that I wasn't crazy and to see that, contrary to his claims, she wasn't crazy either. This is the effect of long-term gaslighting, another manipulation tool of the narcissist where they intentionally create doubt about their victim’s experience and perception of reality. This is when extreme self-doubt can set in. The victim eventually turns on themselves, believing they are losing their sanity. If there is no intervention, the person’s ability to make good and healthy decisions for themselves can be compromised resulting in a dangerous downward trauma spiral, as was the case with my friend Lisa. 

Before this occurred, I didn't believe this kind of sinister Dr Jekyl/Mr Hyde personality could enter my life. I felt strong, empowered, self aware, and with good boundaries. But it did happen to me. Now that I know the signs of narcissism and sociopathy I can see that these personality types were always around. I could easily sense the overtly dangerous ones: the Jeffrey Epsteins, the Harvey Weinsteins, the Ann Coulters, and Donald Trumps. What I could not detect so clearly were the more covert, quiet ones. Those with full NPD aren't always boisterous ego-maniacs like Donald Trump or over-achieving, charismatic like Bill Clinton. Many appear normal. My ex was a quiet intellectual, creative writer, and English professor with a daily meditation practice. He had a lot of great qualities that easily masked his darker, malevolent side. 

I cannot stress enough how incredibly important it is to reach out for support when finding yourself in a relationship where the ground seems to be constantly shifting underneath you, where your reality is regularly called into question, and where you feel your energy and life force is being drained. Complex trauma is a progressive state and when in full effect, one is not often capable of seeing clearly and making sound decisions on their own behalf. Early intervention is so important. 

Narcissism as a disorder is rooted in insecurity and low self-worth. Through my own healing journey and self inquiry I’ve been surprised and humbled to see that, at times in my life, my own insecurity has caused me to act superior and dismiss, judge, and criticize others. A blessing that came out of my experience with my ex was the harsh realization that I too had some narcissistic traits. I call it a blessing because it has shed light on parts of myself that were screaming for attention and healing and that because of my shame, I wasn’t willing to look at or acknowledge. 

What remains in the shadows of our psyches can’t be healed. We as a culture must be willing to take a hard look in our own psychic basements and dark corners where those wounded parts of us exist. That’s probably the biggest obstacle to healing narcissism, is overcoming one’s shame enough to see that these disowned parts of us are operating on auto-pilot and hurting other people. I’m grateful for the support of good friends, family, therapists, and energy healers who have helped me to heal much of my shame and insecurity and to lovingly bring these parts of myself out of the shadows into my conscious awareness.

Another blessing has been a new ability to relate to others who have been abused or who have experienced trauma.  It's widened my capacity to be with people in their pain and has opened my heart with so much compassion for anyone who has gone through this or something similar. It’s taken years but I can now say I’m grateful for those experiences which taught me so much about myself, enabled me to heal, as well as to more quickly and easily recognize some of these traits in others and establish strong boundaries when necessary. 

Because narcissism is so prevalent in our culture, I believe it's up to each one of us to ask ourselves the hard questions: have we exhibited these behaviors, and why? What may have happened to us in our childhoods that cause us to judge, shame, belittle or mistreat others, or feel so disconnected from life that we know no other way to feel connected than to drain/siphon energy from others? 

Once you've done the hard work of identifying how and why you behave in these ways, then you can bring a loving and compassionate approach to healing it reminding yourself that this is a cultural disease and that nothing is inherently wrong with you. Through seeking out trusted professionals to help, we can feel safe to allow our insecure, disempowered parts to be seen. In my experience, allowing others I trusted to see me in my shame was the biggest healing. To allow others to lovingly witness and guide me to the darkest places of my psyche dissolved the fear and power it had over me for so many years. It was a huge sigh of relief to be seen in my wholeness and not rejected. Being guided to look at these most wounded parts of myself with loving and compassionate eyes made all the difference. 

Shame can only exist in darkness. Once we shed a gentle light on it, we see it for what it is, often a wounded child who was made wrong at some point and internalized the belief that they are wrong or bad. 

Ultimately I believe the solution lies in “recreating the village,” offline, in our real lives where and however we can. Narcissism isn't going to go away until we are getting our primordial needs for belonging and true community met, where we are surrounded by people who know us, see us, and can lovingly reflect our blind spots back to us. I think it's becoming increasingly apparent that social media and technology are not the answer to our disconnection and are, in fact, creating more disconnection and narcissism.  

If you think you may be in a relationship with a manipulative person, you probably are. If you find yourself self-isolating, walking on eggshells, doubting your intuition, feeling small around them, drained of energy and joy, or stuck in a cycle of extreme highs and lows that is exhausting you, tell someone you trust and ask for support. It's also important to do your own research. Read everything you can about narcissism, and the co-dependent/narcissist “trauma-bond.” You may also have to educate those around you who only see the "charming" side of your partner. I highly recommend finding a trauma-based therapist and do not let them or anyone mis-diagnose you with Borderline Personality Disorder. Complex trauma and Borderline have many of the same symptoms but the treatments are very different. Many, like my friend Lisa, are misdiagnosed. It compounded her trauma to be misdiagnosed, as well as denied her the right form of treatment that could have saved her life. 

Unfortunately those with extreme NPD are considered by many in the psychology establishment to have a life sentence. The very nature of the disorder prevents them from recovering because they are believed to be incapable of looking at themselves objectively, much less willing to heal their shame. If you think you may be in a relationship with someone with extreme narcissism, it is recommended to leave and go “no contact” or to limit communication as much as possible. Attempting to lead them to healing or to help them could have devastating impacts on your emotional and mental wellbeing. 

The road to recovery from narcissistic abuse can feel long. It’s vital to get trauma therapy and to lean into understanding and supportive friends and family who can remind you of your value. Most of all, it’s important to remind yourself of who you know yourself to be. You are uniquely precious and good and deserve relationships with others who see and want to celebrate you. 

A few resources:

Narcissism expert Dr Ramani

Book: Should I Stay or Should I Go

http://doctor-ramani.com/

11 signs you are the victim of narcissistic abuse:

https://blogs.psychcentral.com/recovering-narcissist/2017/08/11-signs-youre-the-victim-of-narcissistic-abuse/

How narcissists get away with abusing people and come off as a good person:

http://thepowerofsilence.co/how-the-narcissist-gets-away-with-abusing-people-and-come-off-as-a-good-person/?fbclid=IwAR2lHQn8_M3b_a7mppEaECAqPmPt1gP59IfvaF6sq6p2hQvCJDCgsAxsIg8

Trauma bonding:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/addiction-and-recovery/201905/trauma-bonding-codependency-and-narcissistic-abuse

If you are on Instagram I highly recommend following: 

@narcissist.psychopath.free 

And

@narcandempath

My Story of Grief

4 years ago I didn't understand grief, didn't want to, and I certainly wouldn't have signed up for a grief ritual. Grief wasn't something one signed up for! Lol. It was something I tried much of my life to avoid, actually. But I think at some point in everyone's life, grief hits us so hard that it knocks us right out of our own lives, where we have no choice but to surrender. That's what happened to me in 2017. I experienced 3 traumatic events that year and for much of 2018 I laid in bed barely functional. For half a year I did very little but feel my pain and think.

If it hadn't been for those events in 2017, I would never have volunteered to take that down time. So, I'm grateful because important things can happen when you are still and silent day after day. One thing that happened to me is that I got curious about myself and started asking myself hard questions, because, well, I had the time. I had no idea what immense value would come from doing that; value that would open a whole new pathway and direction in my life.

One of those hard questions for me was, "Is ALL this grief related to those events in 2017, or is it connected to something else, something older?" As I explored that question, I began to realize there were many layers to my grief. Through exploring each layer, my life began to make sense-- why I made the choices I did, why I felt so alone much of my life, and why I carried a deep sadness since I was a child that I tried so hard to hide.

My grief went from being just a dark, heavy void to taking on an ancient mythological quality, something like exploring a dark cave with endless tunnels... Some of those tunnels were homes to abandoned parts of myself. Grief became a portal inside, a way to understand the depths of my own being and especially my wounded parts that were keeping me scared, hiding, in shame, and generally feeling unsafe in the world.

There were also layers of grief that weren't entirely mine. Some were collective, and some had been passed down ancestrally through my Mother's line. My grief went from a dark void of nothingness to a journey of self discovery.

In later 2018 I was introduced to Francis Weller's book "The Wild Edge of Sorrow," and the work of Malidoma Some and his late wife Sobonfu Some. They were a couple from Burkina Faso, Africa who are most noted for bringing concepts of community repair rituals and most notably, grief rituals, to the US. They argue that in many parts of the world and human history, expressing grief openly is a very accepted and normal part of the culture, and that sharing it communally was an important part of maintaining the health and wellbeing of the village. It was a way to share their losses and common struggles and affirm what was sacred in the community. It connected them. It is also seen as a kind of emotional hygiene that everyone is taught from a young age to tend to regularly— the idea being that by regularly releasing our grief, our bodies and minds are less burdened with life’s heaviness, thereby making us more emotionally available to experience all the beauty and joy life has to offer.

It was a powerful experience to attend community grief rituals where 100 people or more filled a space, sharing and grieving together. Feelings of shame around grief I'd carried my whole life began to dissolve. I understood nothing was wrong with me, that many others held long standing grief too simply by living in such a fragmented, fear-based, disconnected and material culture. Finding the courage to bring my grief out from under the covers and into community was deeply healing for me. I felt an acceptance and sense of real communal connection and belonging I'd never felt before. I was able to fully embrace my deeply feeling, sensitive nature.

That newfound self acceptance combined with a regular personal grief practice brought me back to life. I felt lighter in my body and a new childlike joy, marvel, and excitement for life return.

Those experiences have led to leading my own group and personal grief rituals for others in nature. Grief tending has become an important part of my life and work with others. Something I felt ashamed of much of my life has ironically become something my life is now in service to.

I believe the pandemic has been one of those life altering experiences that has knocked us right out of our lives. Only this time, everyone got hit at once. Suddenly we were all forced into relative stillness. Inevitably, the layers of grief that everyone had gotten so good at ignoring with busyness began surfacing and this time it was much harder to escape.

The past few years of tending to my own grief as well as the grief in my community has unexpectedly prepared me for the collective grief that is surfacing in our increasingly unstable world.

If you've been feeling confused, uneasy, heavy, angry, irritable, frustrated, lonely, scared, or even numb, chances are grief is right underneath. I invite you to check out my grief offerings here. I’m here to support you in your grief.

A Time of Collective Grief

It's palpable, we are entering a period of collective grief.

Grief is complex and many-layered and has as many faces as there are humans. This is my current story of grief, and an invitation for you.

Last week we got the news here in Sonoma county that all of the state, national parks, trails and beaches would be closed because people had been flocking there as a respite from the Corona virus quarantine. People were photographed holding hands, standing close to each other and generally not abiding by the 6 ft distancing rule. So, the authorities that be shut it down. Up until that point, I had been feeling a little anxious but pretty removed from the whole thing. That order brought it all home for me. I collapsed in bed and spent the entire day in grief for the loss of something that had been so precious to me. Nature is my sanctuary. It's where I go to return to myself over and over. It's how I cope with modern life.

When the Corona virus hit, I knew I would be ok as long as I had access to the places that remind me that everything is ok. The world outside may be spinning, but in the forest, the plants, insects, mushrooms, birds and animals are all engaging in their annual rites of Spring. Regardless of what is happening in the human world, nature continues as it always has. It is my life-affirming touchstone, reminding me how to live, to honor life's cycles, and how to keep returning to my truest self, and to what really matters. Nature is my source of peace, solace, comfort, connection, clarity and guidance from Spirit. So, when I read that the trails, beaches and even small local groves and parks that I frequent were suddenly closed, I was crushed. It felt as though I lost a piece of Home.

For those who have been following my posts for awhile know I've been on a quest for Home and belonging my entire life. Moving to the Redwoods was a big piece of finding Home, finding myself again. Like many of you who are feeling the loss of the lives you had before the virus, I too am in grief over the loss of something meaningful to me. And yet, I know from experiencing it for prolonged periods, that grief always has something to teach us, IF we surrender to it. And so, I have surrendered to it, again.

In 2017 I had 3 traumatic events happen in my life that resulted in PTSD. By the end of it, I was a shell of my former self and spent a good portion of the next 6 months in bed. During that time I discovered Francis Weller's book The Wild Edge of Sorrow. I can't imagine a more perfect gift during that time. A whole new, rich experience of grief emerged for me through reading that book. Later, I tapped into the work of Malidoma and Sobonfu Some and others who deeply understood the complex and beautiful terrain of grief. Through their teachings and my own healing journey, a piece of my calling fell into place. I started leading group grief rituals and then offering them individually for people experiencing all forms of loss. I also led a 4 month online women's circle called Grief as a Gateway which was a transformative journey for myself and the other women who participated. I have since learned the transformative power and great teacher that grief is.

May this global trauma call us Home again, back to our truest selves, to each other and in right relationship with our living earth.

"It was through the dark waters of grief that I came to touch my unlived life... There is some strange intimacy between grief and aliveness, some sacred exchange between what seems unbearable and what is most exquisitely alive. Through this, I have come to have a lasting faith in grief." - Francis Weller

20 Reasons for Gratitude during the Pandemic

Unless you are working for an essential service provider or are a health worker, you have officially been given complete permission from your government, your boss, and all other authorities to make yourself a priority. When does this EVER happen? Don't blow this (likely) once in a lifetime opportunity to just be and do you!

You now have total freedom to step out of the hustle and take care of yourself in the ways you've been fantasizing about for years. In case you've been so deep in the hustle that you can no longer remember what those things are, here are some ideas.

1. Rock your bathrobe and pajama pants 24/7.

2. Not style your hair or put on makeup.

3. Sleep in and take 2 hour naps.

4. Make beautiful, delicious meals that take longer than 15 minutes. Try those yummy online recipes you've been collecting.

5. Did I say sleep?

6. Thanks to all the sleep, you now have the energy for lots of good sex.

7. Sit outside for hours listening to the birds. If you live in a cold climate, gear up! Enjoy the peace and stillness winter offers.

8. Meditate for more than 10 minutes.

9. Take long walks. Smile and wave to your neighbors.

10. Turn the music up and dance around in your pj's.

11. Find a fun exercise or yoga class on YouTube and get in shape.

12. Deep clean.

13. Get rid of stuff.

14. Binge watch all the movies and all the shows.

15. Zoom for hours with everyone you love but don't normally have time for.

16. Receive all the love your neglected pet has been dying to give you for years.

17. For those of you who are sheltering with partners or family members, you now have the time to really get to know and understand them. This is an opportunity to create and experience deeper levels of intimacy and connection with those you care about (and practice all those communication tips you've been reading about).

18. Get creative. Start writing that book or screenplay. Take an online art course. Learn to play guitar or the Irish tin whistle on YouTube.

19. Feel all your feelings. There's A LOT coming up for everyone right now. This virus has triggered many of our core wounds. It's intense and whatever you are feeling (grief, rage, anxiety, fear, loneliness...) is normal. This is a rare opportunity to reflect on how you're feeling and why. It's also a great time to ask yourself what in your life is lighting you up and what is draining you.

If it's really intense, many therapists are available remotely to help. You can also join an online support group.

20. Start a new business you are much more inspired and excited about than your current job.

Global Trauma or Initiation

Author and grief expert Francis Weller told me once, "Trauma can become initiation if we don't get stuck in the trauma, but complete the cycle, coming full circle back into full participation with the world and in service to others." Right now we are being forged. Some will be traumatized by it, but all of us will be offered the same invitation to be initiated by it.

I believe the Anima Mundi (Soul of the world) is initiating us out of our perpetual adolescence. We have lost the cultural knowledge to initiate ourselves. Our Elders have been tossed aside. Eternal youth is glorified. Even our Elders are grasping at how to mimic the youth. Our culture has become a fun house of illusion where very little is what it seems. We look to the most inexperienced or grandiose to guide us. Humanity has gotten turned upside down.

I believe there is an intelligence that seeks to help humanity course correct and come back into balance. There is a natural order that has existed for billions of years, but in the short period of a couple hundred years, we have replaced it with systems that have desacralized both community and nature. Holding these two core things sacred is what has kept humanity and this earth in balance for so long. Our new "modern/civilized" systems seek only power and profit and pit us against each other in competition. We are now seeing what happens when we have a global pandemic spread among already disconnected communities. Ironically though, I see immense potential for this forced containment to bring us back into right relationship with ourselves, each other and our earth. If we pay attention.

In alchemy, a container is a very potent thing. It's where, under the right conditions, total transformation is possible (transmuting base metal into gold). We are being forged in an alchemical container. How each of us chooses to deal with it will make all the difference. Heat is necessary to transmute the base metal, but too little or too much heat will produce poor results. The size of the container also matters. We need to choose the conditions wisely. What conditions are we going to submit to at this time? How much heat and pressure will you allow? What needs to be burned away? What within you is ready to transform and what is in deep resistance to change? At this time we can choose to go into denial, or put our heads in the sand with countless distractions to choose from, or numb out with substances. We can also choose to accept what is happening and surrender to a larger intelligence at work. We can certainly admit that we don't have a lot of control right now. What we do have control over is how we are going to use this time, and what conditions we will apply to our individual alchemical containers.

This Initiation has great potential to elevate us as a global population out of the adolescent, narcissistic mindset of "everyone for themselves" and to realize that we are all in this global container together. I believe that is one of the important messages of the corona virus and the war in Ukraine-- that we can't escape each other. When some of us get sick, all of us can get sick. When some countries go to war, we all feel the death and devastation. We can't go on living in our self serving bubbles. We are interconnected and interdependent on each other and with this planet we live on. There is a very unhealthy level of individualism in the West and the Unites States in particular. It has deeply divided us, pitted us against each other, and sown hatred between us. It is the result of allowing those in power to manipulate the adolescent aspects of our psyches for profit-- to activate our inner child, making us insecure, fearful, and distrusting of each other. It's all been in the name of making money, for a few. It can't continue.

The Animal Mundi will continue to initiate us with natural disasters, extreme weather, pandemics, shortages, etc., until we pass.

The thing about initiation is that you are never the same afterward. The questions for us all to be asking are, who do I want to be when I step out on the other side? Do I want to be the same, or slightly more armored and defensive, or someone who surrendered to what was being asked and has undergone something transformative, life affirming and who is stronger, wiser and more loving for it? Am I willing to be with my fear AND courageously allow my heart to break open to receive what is being asked of me at this time? Most importantly, am I willing and ready to join collectively with other shattered hearts to create new systems that make community and nature paramount and sacred once again?

If we choose the latter and accept the Anima Mundi's invitation, then it is time to become the Alchemist. How will you regulate the heat and pressure being applied during this period of containment and what inside you will you allow to die for your own transformation?

Men, Come Home

Men, we have been waiting a very long time for you. You have shunned us, mocked us, hated us, raped us, abandoned us, broken our spirits, and still we love you. Still we wait for you. We wait because we knew you when you were in our bellies, and then our arms, and when you knew nothing of hate or violence against us. You only knew love, for us, this earth, for life itself.

We remember your wide eyes of wonder and sounds of glee and delight to be wrapped in our arms as we lay in the grass watching the butterflies and birds dance and sing. We watched and celebrated as you ran through the fields and climbed trees feeling such joy in belonging to a land that embraced you as its own.

We knew your pure soul before they took you and molded you into something that couldn't feel anymore. They shunned you, and mocked you, and broke your spirit. "Pussy!" "You're not hurt, shake it off," "Boys don't cry!" "Don't be a sissy!" "Man up!" We watched as the sparkle and wonder disappeared from your eyes, and as your sounds of delight became fewer. We watched as you became hardened soldiers ready for battle against some unknown enemy. Without a clear target, you turned the hatred and anger on us, on the land that held you, and on yourselves. You forgot who you are, and where you belong. No longer feeling worthy, you became hungry ghosts wandering, pillaging and taking all you could. Despite all the destruction and pain, many of us are still here waiting, with open arms, and hearts shattered wide open.

It's time to come home and grieve a river of tears in our arms until you remember who you are. Then we'll dance and sing again while the butterflies and birds celebrate your homecoming.

Come home.

Intimate Relationship: our Search for the Air we Breathe

On an intellectual level I always knew it was important to protect the environment. Rationally, I understood that if the earth isn't thriving, we can't thrive. But it wasn't until I moved to the forest that environmentalism ceased to be just a rational concept. It became deeply personal. Living in the city for 25 years had disconnected me from the environment so much so that I no longer had any direct relationship to the earth and therefore no passion behind my philosophy. It was something I believed in but lacked the energy to do much about.

Moving to nature changed that in a fundamental way. The contrast of living in the density of the San Francisco Bay Area (inhabited by 7 million people) to the forest, surrounded by lush, green, mossy trees, plants of infinite varieties, clear streams, gushing waterfalls, and creatures of all kinds interacting in a vast pulsing, vibrant, alive web, was stark and had a profound impact on me. I moved to nature with a handful of chronic health issues, depression and anxiety, but after months of sitting under giant redwood trees, taking long walks through the woods, wading in streams, listening to the sounds of nature, my nervous system began to reset. Surrounded by LIFE, I came back to life. I genuinely felt welcomed home. Every day was a celebration of life right outside my door and I could feel it all beckoning me closer. In that healthy environment, my body began to heal and come back into balance.

I had not only stepped back into a world of health and vitality, but of enchantment, wonder, and a kind of magic I had once known but long forgotten. Memories flooded me of having known this experience before, of having had a close relationship to the earth as a child. It was a simple knowing that I belonged to the earth and knew who I was in it. My worth, my value, my place and purpose were never in question there. I KNEW who I was and I knew my potential. My reunion with nature reminded me of who I was again. I was not just reuniting with nature but I was reuniting with my truest self.

Without all of the distractions of the city, I surrendered to the quiet, spaciousness. I got still and began to FEEL again. In that process I let go of layers of protective armor. I softened back into my animal body and was overcome with waves of grief. I grieved my long separation from the earth. I grieved having denied myself something so vital for my health and well being. I grieved how closed off I had become to others, and even myself. And for the first time I wept at what was happening to our planet. I could feel her pain and grief at our disconnection from her.

Environmental destruction wasn't something happening "out there" anymore. It was happening to me and my beloved home. I wept at my arrogance, at all the years spent selfishly focused on material gain and personal success. The blinders had come off. I could suddenly see the enormous cost and toll the obsession with MY life had on the earth, my relationships, and on my health and happiness. Prior to moving to nature, I was a relational mess. I never would have guessed that nature would become my greatest teacher of intimate relationship, of communion with another. It slowly cracked me open to life, to natural beauty, to being deeply impacted by the smallest of things like the shimmering light reflected off a dragonfly’s intricate lace wings. It also showed me that suffering, grief, and death are no longer something to resist and avoid, but are necessary and sacred in the life cycle.

With 80% of humans now living in towns and cities, it's no wonder our environment is collapsing. We no longer have a direct relationship to the land, trees, water and animals. They exist somewhere “out there” and therefore it’s been easy to look the other way while our governments and corporations plunder in the name of our economic growth and making our lives more convenient. We may think systems that create greater ease and convenience are what we want, but what I have learned is that we are most craving remembering who we are. We are craving that unquestionable knowing of who we are and how we belong. We are craving the sacred and being in sacred community with each other. We are craving doing meaningful work that doesn't just bring a paycheck but has us coming home at the end of our days feeling more connected, fulfilled and proud of what we are contributing and creating, together. We are craving deeper more emotionally intimate relationships with each other, and while you may not feel it now, you are craving a closer relationship to this earth. It’s something we remember when we lay down in the grass and let the sun warm our skin, or feel the thrill of a hawk’s piercing call as it flies overhead. When we allow those experiences in, they open us to the world. We become intimate again with our environment and remember who we are. As our glaciers continue to melt and our forests burn, it's time we returned Home, to the forests, to the deserts, to the coasts, to the places of our ancestors. It's time to come home, to grieve together what's been lost, and to allow the earth to LEAD US back into relationship again.

If you’re interested in my grief ritual work or my upcoming Grief as a Gateway online women’s circle, check out my “Work with Me” page and/or sign up to receive email updates at my home page www.rosalynfay.com.

The Carriers of the Secrets

I was born into a very old story of shame.

It wasn't mine to begin with. I've since learned it was my mother's, and her mother's and her mother's, and, your mother's. Like a baptism, I was dipped in the communal tar pit around the age of 2. My body touched, then told "Shhh, it's a secret." I loved him and so I protected his honor while my own dissolved before I was old enough to form a sentence. Funny how that works-- his secret became my story before I could speak. 

By the time I was 6 I knew the drill: spread my legs, head down, eyes shut, keep it quiet. Love meant that I gave and they took. Saying no and having boundaries wasn't on the menu. No one ever said, "It's ok if you don't want to. It's ok to say no. I'll still love you." Love meant my body was here for the taking. Take what you need. Just tell me you love me. Don't worry. It's our secret. 

As I grew into a female form, my hunger for love also grew. Some loved me. Some didn't. Some took and hated me for it. Didn't matter. By then I couldn't feel much anyway. I'd frozen in time. Only part of me existed, like a hungry ghost. I was a pussy and a mouth, but not for my pleasure or my stories. Just a vessel to prove I'm worth a little something. You'll love me if only for a night. But I'll carry your secret forever locked deep inside, in a place I collect all the secrets. 

Again, funny how things work because I could see the hungry ghost in the eyes of every one of them. Taking to feed something inside themselves they couldn't see.

The tar pit of my insides widened and deepened, no matter how much cleansing and rubbing and scrubbing and meditation and pretty clothes and makeup. There are still places it sticks, like super glue. The blackest black you can imagine.

There's another one in here. She's got a big mouth, always rocking the boat and making people uncomfortable. I do my best to pull her back into the pit and hold her under until she remembers. We don't speak. We keep our head down and our mouths shut. We are the carriers of the secrets. 

Ten Gifts of Grief

The text read “She did it. They found her.” Every part of me went numb. It seemed like time stopped as I stood there staring at those words on my phone. I remember looking around at all the women in the retreat center milling around laughing and talking to each other with no idea of the inner experience I was having. I was scheduled to give a presentation next as a final project in a leadership program I had been enrolled in. I had no idea how I was suppose to walk in and speak to this group of women when I couldn’t feel my body and my head was swirling in a hazy fog of disbelief and shock that a friend and long time inspiration in my life had just ended her life.

Somehow I walked into that room and pulled it off. I don’t recall much of my presentation but afterward, in response to a woman who said I had seemed disconnected from my words, I told the group of the news I had received. Without skipping a beat, one of the founders walked over, cuddled up next to me on the couch, wrapped her arms tightly around me, leaning her head against mine. I went limp, sunk into her arms, and little by little I began to thaw; a trickle at first, slowly building toward a tidal wave of sobs mixed with anger. The group agreed to take whatever time was needed to sit in support of my emotional process as I oscillated between disbelief, grief, and rage. I wept and screamed and beat the couch with pillows. I can’t imagine having been in a more supportive environment to receive news like that. It felt like a gift from Goddess that I just happened to be at a retreat for the School of EMBODIED Feminine Leadership when I got the news. Whatever I was feeling was welcomed along with my full expression of it. I will forever be grateful to those women and the founders who surrounded me in loving support that afternoon and after.  That day I experienced the power and one of many gifts I would come to receive by allowing others to witness my grief and by allowing myself to go to my depths and fully FEEL my grief for myself and our world. 

After that weekend, I went into an intense period of grief for months. Unlike past experiences of loss where I would busy and distract myself doing whatever was necessary to push the pain away, this time I sunk into it. I arranged so I could spend days in bed at a time. Under the covers I grieved for my friend, for the immense challenge it is to be a powerful woman in this world and for the very real forces that actively attempt to diminish our light if we shine too brightly. I grieved for the ways I had allowed these forces to dim my light throughout my life. I grieved for my Mother and Grandmothers who were never encouraged or given the support to fully shine their lights. Their message to me was clear. “Play it safe and never stick my neck out too far.”

The longer I stayed in my grief, the broader the experience became, moving from from my own personal loss to ancestral grief and collective feminine grief. I began to realize how layered grief is. I had been carrying around these other forms of grief most of my life but unaware. They lived inside me like an undercurrent. With that awareness came the thought that perhaps for the first time in human history, as a woman, I am living in a time in HERstory where the forces preventing women from living lives of their choosing and expressing their gifts fully are at an all time low. These forces certainly still exist and the pressure to conform and play small can still feel immense but for the first time in perhaps thousands of years, women are free, at least in theory, to shine.

The gifts of grief are many. To spend time in one’s grief is to do one’s soul’s work. It’s a healing ground that offers transformation to those who courageously spend time there. Initially, it stops us in our tracks. It says “Whoa, slow down. Stop. This really matters. THIS was sacred to me.” It demands we halt our busy lives and tend to what we value most. If we stay long enough, the real gifts of grief begin to emerge. 

I’ve found in my own grief journey that my big losses were only the top layer of my grief. When I sat with my big losses long enough, the underneath layers began to emerge. They were all the things I’ve been too busy to tend to or not wanting to look at: there are old childhood wounds lingering there that have formed all kinds of habitual patterning in my life. And then there is the collective feminine grief of oppression going back 5,000 years. There’s the collective grief of being born into a world that immediately begins to mold us into something that will fit within the cultural norms. We aren’t given much encouragement to be ourselves and bring our natural gifts forward. This causes immense grief and trauma in our child psyche that knows we are here for a purpose. There’s the grief of approaching middle age and never bearing children. The list goes on…

The experience of grief carves you, breaks you down until all that is false, all the masks, pretense, is obliterated into ash. The only thing remaining is your essence: tender, raw, open, vulnerable. Grace. A grace and humility emerge that can only come from having been to hell and back.

Grief is hard and painful, and ugly and hellish and dark, and it’s also transformation, revelation, insight, emotional maturity, and healing.

I find it no coincidence that grief and love are housed in the same place in the body (lungs/heart). The two are two sides of the same coin. We grieve because we love so much. 

Grief is love.

“Grief dares us to love once more.” - Terry Tempest Williams

10 Gifts of Grief

1. Grief reminds us of what’s sacred. Grief immediately stops us in our tracks, pulls us inward and slows us down to remember what we love and value most. It brings us back to what’s sacred to us. It says “Whoa. This person, animal, place, etc really mattered to me.” Life is short and precious and people and things can leave our lives in an instant. Best we honor what we love and value every day. One day it will be gone and we’ll be glad we gave it the love and attention it deserved while it was in our lives.

2. Grief demands we FEEL. It’s nearly impossible to avoid our feelings when we find ourselves in grief. We may have gotten very adept in our normal lives at distracting ourselves with social media, video games, or numbing ourselves with food or substances to avoid our feelings. Grief has the effect of throwing us down into our pain without notice. Grief won’t take no for an answer. When it calls, the only response is to surrender.

3. Grief reconnects us to our true self and is a catalyst for transformation and growth. Grief has a natural effect of pulling us inward. It calls us back from the outer world to our inner world and re-builds an intimacy with ourselves. It has the effect of stripping us down to our essential nature. To go into our grief and get curious is to engage in our soul work. It’s there we have the opportunity to embark on a rich journey of self discovery and get reacquainted with all the lost or abandoned parts of ourselves. It’s an incredible opportunity for re-integration, growth and transformation if we choose it.

4. Grief builds relationship and community. Grief and loss often brings people together out of necessity and then reminds them of what real relationship and community looks and feels like. We can naturally become quite dependent in our grief for emotional and material support. If we can ask for the support we need, we are often surprised by who shows up to help. Personal losses often bring friends and neighbors closer together. Death within estranged families frequently heals old rifts. Natural disasters often bring whole communities together to support each other, heal and to rebuild. True community often forms out of destruction reminding us of our common vulnerability and healthy inter-dependence on each other. The deepest bonds are often forged out of shared trauma and loss.

5. Grief connects us to our collective grief that is calling for healing. The longer we explore our grief the more we realize there are many layers to it. The top layer may be a recent personal loss or death, but the longer we spend time in our depths, we begin to feel into the many forms of collective grief we also carry. There are many types of collective grief that can come to the surface: grief around historic oppressions, grief about humanity’s increasingly polarization, grief around what is happening to our earth, grief around the lack of social support to be our most authentic selves and to instead fit into society’s molds. The list goes on…

6. Grief brings grace: There’s nothing surface or light about grief. Grief throws us into the deep end and it can feel like we are drowning. Grief strips us down and carves us. It shatters our pride and egos, bringing us to our knees and shows us how little control we truly have in our lives. It humbles us in the most painful and, somehow, best way. When we finally stop resisting it and surrender to what it has to teach us, a grace descends on us.

7. Grief builds inner strength and resilience: You don’t mess with a woman who has returned from her depths. I felt an inner strength building in my back body and shoring up my solar plexus and heart that propels me forward. There’s a fierceness to it, like a warrior preparing for battle, but fueled by love instead of fear or hate.

8. Grief increases one’s trust in life and the divine intelligence at work that wants nothing more than our healing and expansion.

9. Grief creates clarity about our lives, patterns of relating, limiting beliefs we hold about ourselves and much much more.

10. Grief brings self forgiveness: if you stay with the grief process long enough and continue bringing curiosity to it, you’ll start to understand yourself on much deeper levels. This greater understanding brings a natural forgiveness because we can see why we made certain choices.