Grief, in my own life, is the art of accepting life’s imperfections. My relationship with grief is not artful. Our negotiations are inelegant on the best days, and tortured during the worst days. Grief reveals a sense of loss imprinted on my spirit. At times, it asks me to carry a part of reality that overwhelms my body and psyche, particularly when life’s daily changes move at a relentless pace. Grief is a point when the experience of change simply breaks, and we must feel it. It hurts.
The wisdom of shrinking ego has been in my periphery for months. As I’ve seen inflated egos derail some of our most brilliant community-building and flatten some of our most brilliant people, over these months, I’ve needed to ask: “how can I keep my ego in its lane?”
Then, this week happened. As 45 fires officials as quickly as the White House printer allows, and his porcelain fragility sends our constitutional system into a rapid downward spiral, I think that we should have this conversation today. And when I say today, I mean, right now.
Folk Healer. Healing Justice Practitioner. Creative.