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, The Wild Edge of Sorrow
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On Thursday, I will board a plane for the first time since the stay-at-home orders went into effect. What essential travel plans do I have, you ask? My Uncle Mike’s funeral is Friday at 2 p.m. in Virginia. This is the same uncle who I had just spoken with three weeks prior, who sounded happyContinue reading “Another Funeral: R.I.P. Uncle Mike”
I had been working on this post about my earliest lessons about grief for a week when George Floyd’s death happened. I needed to stop to attend to this new sorrow and its implications for George Floyd’s family, for the country, for the world, and for me personally. The more I attended to this newContinue reading “George Floyd and What Funerals Taught Me About Race”
When I was in cosmetology school, I had an instructor that used to say, “hair, is hair, is hair.” He would repeat this as a mantra to demystify our fear of tackling a hair texture that wasn’t like our own. While it’s true that you can’t take the same approach to baby fine, stick straightContinue reading “Apprenticeship with Sorrow, Part 1: Grief, is Grief, is Grief”
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