gratitude for grief (&/or gravity)
i promise this isn’t the love & light only b.s. it could sound like
As someone who tends to be more anxious and is fast-paced via nature + nurture, who has a hard time resting my passionate yet obsessive mind into the moment… slowing down is part of my medicine.
I often feel that my hyper-sensitive self picked up all the social cues (taught by shame, pressure, and other direct and indirect forms of enforcement) a little too well - especially as someone raised as a girl/woman, who still exists in a very femme/feminine-perceived way - I excel at trying to do and fix everything, people pleasing, masking and perfectionism…
at the same time i’m also good at expression, not being able to hide my emotion, and being truly caring…
what I’m not the best at is slowing down…
unless I feel hurt, get triggered, or feel saturated by grief. This happens quite a bit, but honestly less now that I have SSRIs to help me balance all the biological things that meditation and my myriad of devotional nervous system + spiritual practices cant fully cover.
These days it’s a mix of hope and capacity to hold others, mixed with feeling beaten down by unfulfilled needs &/or desires, the suffering of those around me - near and far - in my close and communal relationships, the local & global fear and uncertainty around elections, as well as collective connections to strangers across seas suffering under genocidal reigns, and the threads that tie me to time and all my ancestral lines endured and prevailed through.
This morning there was a difficult instance. At first the heaviness of the sadness and disappointment and frustration kept my from care. But as i gave it space and tried not to push it away, while giving myself time in the sun, I was able to eat, I was able to breathe deep, i was able to allow room for questions rather than doubts, blame and assumptions.
Once i was a bit more regulated (it used to take hours, days - but with all my current supports it often takes much less time) I resumed my morning routine - which involves prayers and gratitude and movement to stretch my often achy, contracted body.
Some mornings I’m half there and I speed through it or get distracted. The point is showing up to do it, and trying my best to be present and see what happens, not how “right” I do it or not.
But today, in the vicinity of grief, the gravity of it all shifted from a burden to a balm.
The slowness was welcomed - it slowed me down into the feeling and authenticity of my prayers, the depth of my stretches, the heavy hope in my heart…
It gave me what some days I struggle to reach on my own in the subconscious rush of trying to fit in my morning tasks before I need to show up to work and the conscious world.
This world that ties us to time that doesn’t always honor true paces and phases of being.
This world that adds so much pressure and pain to us on top of the general gravity of our own lives.
Can we remember gravity as a guide to feeling into our grief and honoring that pace?
Can we communicate when we need more space or time to go slower, to honor the emotions, to adjust how we’re showing up so that it’s not all-or-nothing but something unfolding?
This is just one day’s experience for me and my unique collection of supports and struggles - but I wanted to share it in case there is even the tiniest glimmer of awareness here that could support you too.
These are the kinds of perspective expansions or co-existences (not even shifts - but both/and realizations) that I find when I work with my body and mind together - that I hope to invite you to also experience and envision in general.
and also, if you want, through the guidance of tools like my Embodied Ecosystems Tarot/Oracle deck - which is really a visual guide of practicing presence and prompting reflection for anyone.
I’m grateful for gravity, and ultimately, even if it feels weird to say, I’m grateful for grief - because it reminds me I’m human. It reminds me I am embodied and feeling and have the capacity to change and pace myself. That I am grounded by gravity and that slowing and shifting my focus is not a problem but perhaps part of what is needed in this hyper-speed world.
Maybe it’s not even gratitude - it’s just acceptance. But that feels like connection to me which feels like gratitude in my body.
Thanks for being here & listening. I’d love to listen to your thoughts on this too in the comments if you feel called.
In Sensory Solidarity,
Rae / Rachael Amber
Any 2025 Lunar Calendar Posters ordered will help us contribute mutual aid disaster relief for communities of Appalachia affected by Hurricane Helene.
There are also still 9 pieces remaining to win in the Ongoing Raffle for Palestine to forward funds to individuals & families.
There are still a small number of free boxes of Cycles Journal 2024 while they last - to share with your local community, organizations, little free libraries, etc. (just pay shipping)
