The heart is not a fragile thing to hide away from this world.
Such a cost in bracing ourselves against our experience, keeping our heads above the surface, wondering why the desert comes closer.
Much safer to strip naked, break into a thousand pieces, and discover what it is that we are truly held by.
Grieve well to end the drought.
Water the fields of all our relations with these tears, soften the hardened arteries of empathic intelligence, and here where our rivers converge, remember our pain is shared.
If you find yourself in grief’s grey wasteland, ignore the call to set up home amidst the bitterness and half measures, keep on moving toward the sword that would pierce your whole heart.
Grief unresisted opens the chest, til there’s no holding back the treasure, the clarity born of what it is that truly matters.
All the love we ever knew, shared, or even dreamed of, was never lost.
It is right here now, overflowing, seeds to be planted in the dark soil at the center of our lives, made fertile by our willingness to honor all that we grieve, by never taking this moment for granted.