two.
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This newsletter is here to connect you to your five senses and your grief at times when life and death make no sense. Consider it an imperfect “grounding exercise” for the month.
Cancer has reintroduced itself in a friend’s fourth stage diagnosis, and as I support this friend, I find myself back at grief’s beginning. I want answers. I want a real prognosis. Do I hope? Dare I consider miracles? I think, yes. That’s love (which I have faith in, even if it grants more room for loss).
Today I feel the shaded chilliness of a tree. I see my dog and her friend, playing tug. I smell but I’d rather not to avoid pollen allergies. I hear the sounds of comings and goings. I taste leftovers. I grieve.
FEEL - Smile at the Moon
Claymation moments for whimsy and delight.
SEE - A Small Memorial
This interactive website is a slow burn. It forces you to breathe, to let your computer lead you, to stop working. Neither precious or pretentious, it’s a unique meditation.
SMELL - Bread on Earth
Very little beats the yeasty smell of fresh bread and heat coming from a busy oven. Lexie Smith’s instagram is therapeutic if you imaginatively need something therapeutic to do with your hands, are hungry for bready aromas, and need inspiration to go to a pastry shop or to make your own carby comfort.
HEAR - Starting All Over Again // IZ
He is known for his rainbow serenades, but Braddah IZ’s oeuvre runs deep (this song included). If you’re from the islands or not, this unguarded, tender, and straight-talking song cues the waterworks.
TASTE - The Love of my Life // Cheryl Strayed
Most people know her for her brazen, somewhat ill-conceived, “wild” PCT trek. Written after her mother died, this essay speaks to Strayed’s grief and desperation for intimacy.
GRIEVE - No Crying At The Dinner Table
Carol Nguyen’s documentary patiently sits with her family’s grief and waits to see if, with time and patience, words unsaid can be spoken.
