Permission to Land

an everyday grief manifesto

Grief paid me a visit this week.

It was a good week, in many ways — I saw friends and ran in the park and ate delicious food and enjoyed the weather. And internally, for various pockets of time, I (mostly undetectably) fell apart.

(Undetectable save for when I went to get a manicure and Adele’s cover of “Make You Feel My Love” came on and there were a few rather visible tears but I stopped shy of snot and let’s normalize emoting in public, yes?)

I’m alright, just rolling with the process. I only mention this here because I know I’m not alone. The numbers are iffy, but it’s estimated that as many as 57% of people have experienced a close loss in the last three years. And grief (and loss) comes in so many forms — over plans and relationships and dreams and identities and changes of all kinds. Even positive, much-hoped-for events can usher in grief for what we leave behind.

So, if you’re grieving in any way, I see you. And if you know someone who’s experienced a loss — even if it’s been a minute and they seem fine — don’t be shy about checking in on them.

Earlier today, in the middle of working on an essay, I spread out on my yoga mat to relax for just a minute…and fell asleep. These words came to me upon waking, and I scribbled them down in my notebook. And then I decided to share them with you.

May they greet you wherever you are.

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Permission to Land
An everyday grief manifesto

It's okay if the job is not perfect. Also if it’s not done.

It’s okay if a feeling surprises you. Emotions, like waves, are meant to be surfed until they find their way to shore.

Wherever you are — however you find yourself in this moment — is okay, too.

The path is not straight, not linear nor predictable. It is not recognized by the GPS. If this sounds terrible, just think: this is how discoveries are made.

You are becoming a version of yourself that you’ve never been before. If you feel some “should” creeping up, in relation to the work or the dishes or the godforsaken inbox, or the fact that you’re wearing the black track shorts and that faded old tee yet again as though they’re the only garments in existence, please stop for a moment and picture a puppy or a kitten or a quokka or a baby or whatever stirs a surge of unbridled compassion. Now cast yourself as that figure, and offer them some much-needed kindness, understanding, and grace.

Know there is beauty in falling apart, in coming to pieces, in rattling around like a box of unassembled IKEA furniture, dreaming of how you might regroup in the light of a brave new hour.

But as for this one: Remember that flowers do not hold blooms 24/7/365. There are seasons for budding and for shedding, and for god knows what else goes on beneath the surface. They trust in the cycle of re-greeting each season, each sky, each incarnation, as many times as it takes. They trust in the process. And you deserve the same.

It’s okay if it’s not okay.

The tide may be out, but love is stronger. No matter where you are, the shore is always before you. Keep riding. The waves know the way.

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Card of the Week

Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.

UV Tarot by Modest Mouse, with art by Violet Aveline

In our modern lives, we worship movement.

We spend ours days rushing about, doing and making and fixing and trying. Crossing items off the to-do list, charting measurable progress. We like to follow instructions, directions, prescriptions — and when we do, we expect to see tangible results. 

The High Priestess calls bullshit on that. 

This week’s card would like to remind us that 1) a map is not always available, and 2) not every situation requires action. Sometimes, the best course of action is inaction. To pause. To ponder. To wait and see.

The energy of this card dwells in the space between mystery and intuition, conscious and unconscious, known and unknowable. Where others are in motion — trying, spinning, speaking — the High Priestess is content to remain still. That doesn’t mean she’s not busy observing, mulling, studying. She is fully absorbed by the spheres she inhabits, both the external plane and the world within.

The iconic Smith-Waite tarot, with art by Pamela Colman Smith

The High Priestess encourages us to call upon our intuition, to greet that inner voice as you would a friend or guide. Instinct is a valid form of counsel, and can whisper about everything from those big life choices — when two roads diverge in a wood — to the everyday acts of caring for and nourishing oneself.

This card reminds us that intuition is not a superpower so much as a trait to be cultivated, a sense often lying dormant within us. Far from supernatural, it is simply the act of sharpening your ability to observe and feel, in tandem, until you become aware of the Truth that already resides within you.

Western culture celebrates the rational mind. It loves answers. Recipes. Plans. Directions. But this card teaches us that there are many types of knowing.

We may dismiss hunches, feelings, kernels of dreams. We may wave off our curiosities and secret longings, banishing them from our minds, until we see that another has dared to do it.

The character on this card is often regarded as a guardian of mysteries, which makes her sound like some sort of gatekeeper, lording over some esoteric knowledge not accessible to us all. But in fact, the opposite is true. A Priestess is someone who initiates. A person who invites others in, helping them explore the world around them. A person who helps them access and understand their own inner realms.

In the days ahead, remember the urging of The High Priestess: Listen for your inner guidance. Follow that creative pull. Let curiosity lead the way. Don’t be afraid to improvise and see what you discover. Be open to people who initiate — a conversation, a friendship, an idea…perhaps you’ll feel inspired to do the same.

Above all else, this week’s message encourages us to remain open to the beauty and mystery in the everyday.

The most profound truths are often the simplest. The simple things in life — what we often take for granted — are often the most profound.