Tilde

I wish this for you: to find the people you belong with, the ones who will see your pain, companion you, hold you close,
even as the heavy lifting of grief is yours alone. As hard as they may seem to find at times, your community is out there. Look
for them. Collect them. Knit them into a vast flotilla of light that can hold you.
- Megan Devine (from It's OK that You're Not OK)

Remember you are water. Of course you leave salt trails. Of course you are crying. Flow.
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.
By Adrienne Maree Brown

A powerful part of our Living Funeral Ceremony is writing last words. There is no wrong way to do it. Whether it's instructions, reflections of life, goodbyes... participants are invited to write the words they wish to leave behind.

Sometimes writing last words makes people realize that they need more time. More time to write their words. More time with loved ones. More time doing what they enjoy. More time, more time, more time.

Luckily, it's a 🌱 Living 🌱 Funeral and they've got time.

This exercise can be done at any time, even if not in ceremony. What would you say if you knew it was the last thing you'd ever say? Who would you say it to? And can these last words influence your life, a life that is still very much happening?

✒️ new journal entry up on tildecare.com ✒️

The confrontation with death – and the reprieve from it – makes everything look so precious, so sacred, so beautiful that I feel more strongly than ever the impulse to love it, to embrace it, and to let myself be overwhelmed by it. I wonder if we could love passionately, if ecstacy would be possible at all, if we knew we'd never die. By Michael Gurian.

Talking about death won't kill you.

But the possibility has crossed my mind more often than I expected. What if doing this work somehow brings death toward me and my loved ones?! I take some deep breaths. I remind myself that talking about death won't kill me, much like talking about s*x won't get me pregnant.

I remind myself: I can't control the time/place/way I die, but I can get prepared for it. And if death happens to knock on my door, I'm ready. Or I'm at least a little more ready than I would be if I didn't talk about it so much. For me, that makes the conversation worth it.

More thoughts on Tilde's journal. It's only a couple minutes read and I'd love to know what you think.