May you take all the time you need
Last night, I was honored to hold space for a curious group of women willing and open to explore their grief through writing and discover what it feels like to be supported in a safe community container. I witnessed them courageously lean into discomfort, expanding their capacity to be with pain and sadness. At the same time, experience connection, beauty, truth, inspiration, grace, and love.
Today, I share a timely prayer. A blessing I wrote for you and me. This offering is not limited to the grieving but to those living, breathing, and experiencing this vast and rich human experience. May we welcome and attune ourselves to the paradox of possibility, of light and dark, joy and sorrow, endings and beginnings.
May you lie on the cool surface of the kitchen floor, a hand to chest, a hand to belly, and remember, this inherent connection to your body and the Earth is limitless and living within and around you.
May the ground give you stability and strength as you face this outrageous loss.
May you allow the warm arms of grace to wrap your weary bones and delicate disposition.
May you collect deep inhales and long exhales.
May they soften your belly and expand your chest.
May you be generous in your heart to feel, be, breathe, and rest.
May you not deny the truth of your loss and embrace your heartache.
May you scream the deep moans of agony and soft, salty tears of sadness.
May you be kind and forgiving to your body, mind, and spirit.
May you learn the language of sensation.
May you lean into and trust the wisdom of discomfort.
May you allow the totality of emotion to wash over you.
May you pay attention to the pain and overwhelm, draw away, and distract when it feels too intense.
May you allow space for the energy of grief to breathe and become.Â
May you honor your pace and process.
May you seek solace in nature and its soothing reception and patience.
May you soften into the soil and expand into the sky.
May you seek shelter from family or a faithful companion or a community that can honor and witness your journey and hold a sincere and compassionate presence for your process to unfold without a need to fix or change.
May you feel seen, heard, and understood.
May you know you are not alone, even in your loneliness.
May you feel a sense of belonging within the remoteness of your pain and sorrow.
May you have the freedom and chance to slow down and step away from everyday obligations and sit in the solitary comfort of your needs.
May the profound pit of ache open to the deep well of peace.
May you disappoint another to stay true to yourself.
May you seek solitude and reprieve from the external world.
May you sit silent and still in candlelight and hear the whispers of those you lost.
May you commune with those who are gone in the silence of your soul.
May you feel their eternal connection and take refuge in the universe's infinite love.
May you chant devotions in a ritual that is unique and reverent.
May you find your way into the dark abyss in a manner that is uniquely yours to discover.
May you remember the beacon of your heart when lost in a sea of fear and confusion.
May you wear grief like a divine badge of honor, shining the details of those loved and lost.
May you walk the wild edge of sorrow towards the untamed edges of your heart.
May you tread lightly around the sharp and sudden margins.
May you take all the time you need.
May you remember what is most meaningful and seek its source often.
May death be a constant reminder of how precious and blessed life is.
May it retell the sacred story of the bonds of connection to those present and who have passed.
May it remind you how cherished and holy you are.
Prompt
Though our losses are different, we recognize each other. We bless each other from the shared territory of heartbreak. I invite you to write a blessing to yourself and others and turn unspoken love and care into written form.
Begin with one or both: May you… or My hope for you…
Grab a pen and paper or your favorite journal. Use the prompt as a place to start.
Set your timer. Write for 15 minutes, pen never leaving the page. See what words flow. If you are unsure where to begin, begin with "I don't know what to write" and repeat it until more words pour from the tip of your pen.
I would love to hear about your journey and experience with the prompts and process of flow writing. Hit reply to share or leave a comment.
Free Intuitive Writing for Women: Sunday, September 17, 9:30 – 11:00 a.m. PST.
Workshop details HERE and enroll HERE.
Small Group Online Writing OpportunitiesÂ
Grief Writing for Women
Thursday, October 5, 12, 19, and 26. Time: 6:00 – 7:30 p.m. PST
Go on a guided journey to a safe place within yourself. Learn how to write your grief — even if you don't have experience writing.
Here is a brochure with all the info you need to learn more and register.
Intuitive Writing for Women Â
Sunday, October 8, 15, 22, 29, November 5 and 12. Time: 9:30 – 11:00 a.m. PST.
We all have a story within us. Practice being brave with your voice without edit or perfecting and fear of judgment.
Go to the website to discover all the info you need and register.Â
Beautiful. I’m so glad I signed up for last night’s workshop. It was powerful, inspirational, and so connective. Highly recommend! Thank you. Xo Erin