10/22/2026
The More We Sit With Grief 🤍
The more we sit with grief, the more we begin to understand that it isn't something to outrun.
It isn't something to make smaller, force a greater lesson out of, or convince ourselves that we're okay when we don't feel that way.
We need to sit with the ache of what has happened. To acknowledge what hurts. To name what we miss. To let the tears and wailing come without apologizing or fear of how others might judge us.
We need to allow grief to move through us like water, taking up whatever space it needs to.
Grief that we ignore does not disappear. It waits in the places we haven't been ready to look, in the feelings we've pushed aside, in the moments when the weight of everything finds its way back to the surface.
When we give ourselves permission to feel what is here, we begin to make space for it. Not to fix it. Not to rush through or past it. But to meet it with tenderness.
We need to learn to sit hand in hand with our sadness instead of trying to push it away. To acknowledge our anger, guilt, and longing. To make space for the complex feelings that come with loving someone or something we can no longer hold in the ways we once did.
In doing so, we discover that feeling our grief doesn't mean we are falling apart. The more we allow grief to move through us, the less of ourselves we have to abandon in an effort to survive it.
We are able to look up and notice the world around us. The warmth of the sun on our skin. The comfort of a familiar song playing on the radio. Moments of unexpected laughter that find us before we have time to feel guilty for it.
Joy and sorrow can exist together in tandem. We can miss someone terribly and still want to be here in the present moment. We can carry heartbreak and still be curious about what comes next in our life.
Beginning to live again doesn't mean we have finished grieving. It means we are learning to carry what we cannot change without letting it become the only thing we are able to feel.
There is no deadline. No perfect way to do this. No finish line waiting for us on the other side of our sadness. Nobody hands you a certificate and says "Congratulations! You are finished grieving and are healed now."
There is only a soft invitation to continue meeting ourselves where we are at, to listen to what needs tending to, and to stop asking our hearts to heal on a timeline.
The more we sit with grief, the more we learn to trust it, and in turn, trust ourselves to feel it without being consumed by it.
We learn that we can enter the depths, the very belly of the hurt, and still find our way back out, all while creating space for our pain without closing ourselves off from the outside world.
And one day, perhaps without even noticing, we begin to reach for life again.
