Grief is personal. We all have it the same but completely different. I can’t tell you what to do with yours, you can’t tell me what to do with mine. It can tear you apart, it can make me feel heavy or light. It comes to us all whether we choose to acknowledge it or not. Bury it dwell on it chase it. Somewhere it leads.

It has an energy, as it closely circles love and sadness to varying degrees. So what do we do with it? Doesn’t have to be anything, right? But as with love and sadness, there is power. And so with power there is also choice to let it sit, to dwell on the sensation of its vibrancy as it pulsates through my body my mind. Untethered it can run free in the background and certain days, it can bury the world in a fog creating an artificial gap between me and the world. because it is close to me and I cling to it sometimes as if it will somehow keep me connected to its source.

What follows it? Regret, loss, shame, guilt these emotions circle both with it and in response to it. What to do with it? It’s power changes perhaps wanes with time? In that charge of its rising, what if you transform and sublimate it into something else. In many ways it led me to my yoga practice which has deepened my connection and understanding of myself in both mental and physical spaces. Both have been forever transformed in its wake.

The power of grief indirectly led me to my practice but also gave me such an intimate way to be with it. In equanimity. Just being with it, somehow it fuels me. A reminder of attachment, bookmark of love and dreams. I sit with it and it changes as I twist turn change perspective so does grief. Upside down sideways into a literal pretzel. And so I follow, but not blindly. To not just see where it leads, but to experience every single fucking moment of it.