What Do We Do With All This Grief?

This was originally sent out in our February newsletter. The message still reverberates through my being. I am hugging you all dearly. And still we seek the end of genocide - and liberation from the Congo to Sudan to Palestine to Haiti and beyond <3

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Dear Ones,

I always struggle to know where to start. When we are in the throws of unbelievable loss and violence, I just... "hi, hello, how are you" feels so flat. I want to embrace you, if you'll let me. I want to feel our beating hearts speaking to each other like mycelium networks. I want this pain to bring us closer.

I love you as in I will always remember our liberation is bound together.

Every time I open my phone and I see more people murdered, more people wailing, more terrible destruction, my heart breaks into more and more pieces. I feel my throat tighten and a sinking in my gut and I lean into these sensations and I clutch at my heart space because *oh* if I could just hold my heart close enough then maybe maybe maybe. I breathe through my mouth and let my shoulders get heavy on the exhale.

I love you as in I will not turn away.

I feel overwhelmed, horrified, and furious at the utter lack of regard for life. And how far too many have been disrespected in death. I practice feeling these feelings. I practice saying your name. I practice cupping my own face as if I were holding yours. I ask my guides to help me move from this love, this softness.

I love you as in I will honor your life. I will honor your death.

I cry constantly. For Gaza. For Rafah. For Congo. For Sudan. For my Palestinian siblings. For my Jewish ones. I rage for and with us all. If grief is "love that is lost it's home" then what do I do with all. of. this? How do I hold it? Channel it? Some days I dream of futures free of violence and harm. Some days I clench my fists so tight. As if the sheer pressure could be enough to stop this death. And then, on my exhale, I release my hands gently and slowly. And I feel into this expansion and transmutation.

We love us as in we will let this grief and rage birth new worlds.

Truthfully, I don't always know what to do with this grief. What I do know is that grief cannot be rushed. There is no quick fix. And so, little by little, I try to find what feels "right." (How are you tending to yours?) Below are a few more ideas, as well as some upcoming offerings for grief, for visioning new worlds.

I love you for always, as in "grief has no deadline"

clear eyes (on Rafah) full hearts (for Palestine) can't lose
xo
- Michelle