Navigating Loss

full moon above Wood Island Light, Saco, Maine, early August

Dear readers,

After signing off from writing this newsletter for the summer, I took up the practice of daily haiku writing. I found this practice challenging, but I kept at it. One day in July, I also wrote some words for those who are navigating loss. I was experiencing a period of greater sadness than I typically do. I also wrote, around that time, a couple of haiku poems inspired by the cyclical nature of grief.

I don't know if I will continue writing this newsletter. Over the summer, I missed the practice of writing my thoughts for others to consider, but my focus on writing about resilience in the face of loss may have run its course. I started this writing project over a year and a half ago and it has been a good way for me to continue the work I began with my memoir. Still, it may be time to shift my focus. My intention right now is to immerse myself in watercolor painting this fall.

I have not restored paid subscriptions this week, which I thought I would do when I paused payment around the summer solstice. I will do so only if I decide to start posting regularly again; I plan to make that determination by the fall equinox. If I choose not to continue, the following seems a good way to wrap up my work here:

When grief feels too hard,
May you bring softness to it.

When your days feel too sad,
May you find joy in small moments.

When you tire of the struggle,
May you rest and rejuvenate.

I think the above reads a bit like an Irish blessing, which was not intentional and not my usual way of writing, but why not? I hope the message speaks to those who are grieving.