Adrienne maree brown
Adequate tears twisting up directly from the heart and rung out across the vocal chords until only a gasp remains;
At least an hour a day spent staring at the truth in numb silence;
A teacup of whiskey held with both hands, held still under the whispers of permission from friends who can see right through ‘ok’ and ‘fine’;
An absence of theory;
Flight, as necessary;
Poetry, your own and others, on precipice, abandonment, nature and death;
Courage to say what has happened, however strangling the words are…and space to not say a word;
A brief dance with sugar, to honor the legacies of coping that got you this far;
Sentences spoken with total pragmatism that provide clear guidance of some direction to move in, full of the tender care and balance of choice and not having to choose;
Screaming why, and/or expressing fury at the stupid unfair fucking game of it all (this may include hours and hours, even lifetimes, of lost faith);
Laughter, undeniable and unpretended;
A walk in the world, all that gravity, with breath and heartbeat in your ears;
Fire, for all that can be written;
Moonlight – the more full the more nourishing;
Stories, ideally of coincidence and heartache and the sweetest tiny moments;
Time, more time and then more time…enough time to remember every moment you had with that one now taken from you, and to forget to think of it every moment;
And just a glimpse of tomorrow, either in the face of an innocent or the realization of a dream.
This is a nonlinear spell. Cast it inside your heart, cast it between yourself and any devil. Cast it into the parts of you still living.
Remember you are water. Of course you leave salt trails. Of course you are crying.
P.S. If there happens to be a multitude of griefs upon you, individual and collective, or fast and slow, or small and large, add equal parts of these considerations:
– that the broken heart can cover more territory.
– that perhaps love can only be as large as grief demands.
– that grief is the growing up of the heart that bursts boundaries like an old skin or a finished life.
– that grief is gratitude.
– that water seeks scale, that even your tears seek the recognition of community.
– that the heart is a front line and the fight is to feel in a world of distraction.
– that death might be the only freedom.
– that your grief is a worthwhile use of your time.
– that your body will feel only as much as it is able to.
– that the ones you grieve may be grieving you.
– that the sacred comes from the limitations.
– that you are excellent at loving.