Grief, Death and Light

Lately,
I’ve been sitting with people
in the moments
where life changes shape.

Not gently.
Not in ways we would ever choose.

But in the way
that asks everything of you.

Photos, Videos

A life…
held in images still and moving.

Smiles that didn’t know they were sacred.
Ordinary days
that quietly became everything.

You can feel it in the room—

love
and loss
arriving at the same time.

What was.
What will never be again.

And somewhere in between…
the quiet becoming
of who we now have to be.

I help gather the pieces.

Music.
Images.
Moments stitched together
into something that says,

this mattered
this was real
this is still love and its still flowing

And then…

I slow down.

I get quiet.

I light palo santo
and let the space soften.

I bring the forks into the room—
not to fix,
not to take anything away—

but to sit with what’s already there
just a little more gently.

Sound moves.

Not loud.
Not performative.

Just… present.

And something shifts.

Not in a way you can explain.
Not in a way you can prove.

But in the way a body softens.
In the way breath returns.
In the way the sharpest edge
becomes just a little more bearable.

I feel it.

Clear.
Undeniable.

This is real.

Not because anything is healed.
Not because anything is gone.

We are just sitting with it. We are doing what has to be done. This honors a life shared with steadiness and softness. There is a quiet care that holds.

I have gratitude for my own grief. It opened me to share and hold it with others.

—

Later that evening
I listened to a meditation on grief.

It said—

recognize what you feel
sit with it
let it move

and when you can…
find something to ground into.

a breath
a memory
a person beside you

—

Because even when it feels
like the lights have gone out…

you are not without power.

If there is even one person
willing to sit with you—

there is still light.

You just have to lean into it.

Let yourself be held
even when every part of you
wants to disappear.

—

Tonight
I pulled a card.

Five of Swords.

Loss.
Aftermath.
What can’t be undone.

But what I saw wasn’t conflict.

I saw truth.

That life will break open
in ways we would never choose—

and still…

there can be presence
there can be connection
there can be love

quiet
steady
unassuming

—

and sometimes

that is what lights the way
ahead

one small breath
at a time.

—

I am learning to trust the spaces in between—
where grief speaks,
and love answers in frequency.

— Bex

https://insighttimer.com/ for meditation… if you are not already using it you should 🙂 Its free.