on the nuances of grief and allowing each other to explore them without attack

this is me validating your feelings. (thank you for validating mine.)

artwork by EJ Hill, displayed at LACMA, October 2021

First of all, I want to welcome all new subscribers. I’m really glad my last post resonated with so many of you. For those who are new here, I put the majority of my content behind a paywall because writing this newsletter is in large part how I support my family, so if you would like to keep reading, you can upgrade your subscription below or you can stay for the freebies. Thank you in advance for supporting the braid. <3

I have been thinking a lot about grief this week — specifically the paralysis so many people have over feelings that come from contradictory places. And what it feels like to bear witness to people’s public vulnerability, grief and the presumption and projection it often causes in those who grieve differently or are responding from different life experiences and viewpoints.

Beyond that I have spoken to so many of you in regards to the overwhelming hopelessness you feel right now — the impossibility of speaking up (in any direction) without being attacked. We are all in the throes of a social war and to pretend that the casualties of splintered relationships do not matter compared to everything else is patently untrue.

It all matters. It’s all connected. Our inability to listen to each other and validate each other’s pain is no different than the conflicts of war. Words can be weapons, too.

They can also be shelter.

As you may know I co-lead a grief writing workshop with my friend, Claire Bidwell-Smith called The Living Gaze. (We will be leading our third workshop this winter and if you are interested in hearing more, you can jot your name down on our waitlist.) I also work one-on-one with clients who are writing about their grief, processing losses that are far more complicated than most are willing to confess so I am writing this week’s newsletter from a place of grief piloting — as someone who has been navigating my own complicated grief as well as some takeaways from what I’ve learned assisting others (including my children) of all ages and experiences.