I've noticed the ways grief is quietly showing up in my life, too, Alex. It looks different than it used to. Many people, I notice, are encouraging rage. I've been there. I get it. I know what rage looks like for me, and I don't want to invest in that kind of energy anymore. To me, rage is one component of grief. Grief is far more than simply feeling enraged. Rage activates and mobilizes; grief retreats and metabolizes. That's the stage of life I'm in - I want to slow down and absorb instead of instantly move to action. I want to respond, not react. And grief helps me do that, because it is wiser than rage, I've found.
“Rage activates and mobilizes; grief retreats and metabolizes.” That’s such a powerful line. I keep thinking about how rare it is to hear someone speak about grief as wisdom, not just pain. Like it’s doing something in us, not just happening to us. Thank you for offering that reframe.
After 12 years of daily practice, yoga slipped away from me during the chaos of Covid. I was working from home from then on. Politics exploded into an abusive thing. Life was unrecognizable and I clung on to managing everything I could. I no longer had that peaceful feeling, nor did I have time to find it and bring it back. Your explanation is the only one that makes sense. The thread loosened. My anxiety increased but there were a gazillion reasons for that. I gained weight. My muscles knotted and stiffened, which is not unusual for a woman in her 60's. Now I'm missing yoga specifically but am frustrated that it doesn't fit in. Why can't I get back in the daily habit. Maybe when I retire on 4/1/26 I'll find the spot in my routine for it. Something else has to loosen to let yoga back in?
I relate to this more than I want to admit. I've been sitting here with my yoga practice, almost offended, like, why can’t I just pick it back up like a sweater? But it doesn’t always work that way. But I think that sometimes the return is slower, more like re-meeting than resuming. I've been sitting with your question for a while, and with my story, and I wonder...
Maybe that we aren't tightening the old thread any longer, but we are weaving in a new thread. And so that is why I wonder if we re-meet yoga in a new season, we will have a chance to weave a new thread into our lives that meets us perfectly where we are at.
We can never go back to "what was" but yes, the familiar will be different in the same way that we change as life goes on. This is a comforting thought...it will meet us where we are and go from there. Be gentle and compassionate with ourselves rather than shaking our heads over what we let go.
This is beautiful and often goes unacknowledged. For me, it was muffins. Stepping into the expansion of my business has meant that I no longer have time to bake muffins for my daughter’s lunch. We’ve found a compromise and my mom now baked and freezes dozens when she comes to visit, but there was a time when I was that full-time mom who could brought nutritious, homemade muffins everywhere… and I’m not that anymore. There was a definite grief. Even though it felt odd to grieve something as small as muffins, it was important. Thanks for sharing 🙏
“Even though it felt odd to grieve something as small as muffins.”
Yes. That’s exactly it. The thing is, it’s never just muffins, is it? It’s the version of you who had the time, the energy, the rhythm. Thank you for putting language to that.
As I've had time to let this essay sit, I've thought about different threads that have loosened for me over the years. Like the way I used to make slow breakfasts, or write longhand in the morning. They seem small until they’re gone, and then you realize they were a kind of grounding. And yes, muffins once were also a thing. 🧡
Yes, that’s it. You really don’t notice until it’s gone, but it’s losing a version of yourself that you can’t get back. Thank you for naming this, Alexander. I feel really seen.
I can so relate to this: “This is a story about what quietly disappears when you say yes to something that matters. The small loss.” I am writing about desires this month & have come to realize pursuing our true desires often means giving something else up. And grief can follow & must be honored. Thank you for this. Yoga is my centering practice too.
“Pursuing our true desires often means giving something else up.” Yes. Exactly. Desire is rarely clean or cost-free, even when it’s beautiful. It can be so life-giving and still come with a quiet ache. I can't wait to read your writing this month!
I've noticed the ways grief is quietly showing up in my life, too, Alex. It looks different than it used to. Many people, I notice, are encouraging rage. I've been there. I get it. I know what rage looks like for me, and I don't want to invest in that kind of energy anymore. To me, rage is one component of grief. Grief is far more than simply feeling enraged. Rage activates and mobilizes; grief retreats and metabolizes. That's the stage of life I'm in - I want to slow down and absorb instead of instantly move to action. I want to respond, not react. And grief helps me do that, because it is wiser than rage, I've found.
“Rage activates and mobilizes; grief retreats and metabolizes.” That’s such a powerful line. I keep thinking about how rare it is to hear someone speak about grief as wisdom, not just pain. Like it’s doing something in us, not just happening to us. Thank you for offering that reframe.
After 12 years of daily practice, yoga slipped away from me during the chaos of Covid. I was working from home from then on. Politics exploded into an abusive thing. Life was unrecognizable and I clung on to managing everything I could. I no longer had that peaceful feeling, nor did I have time to find it and bring it back. Your explanation is the only one that makes sense. The thread loosened. My anxiety increased but there were a gazillion reasons for that. I gained weight. My muscles knotted and stiffened, which is not unusual for a woman in her 60's. Now I'm missing yoga specifically but am frustrated that it doesn't fit in. Why can't I get back in the daily habit. Maybe when I retire on 4/1/26 I'll find the spot in my routine for it. Something else has to loosen to let yoga back in?
I relate to this more than I want to admit. I've been sitting here with my yoga practice, almost offended, like, why can’t I just pick it back up like a sweater? But it doesn’t always work that way. But I think that sometimes the return is slower, more like re-meeting than resuming. I've been sitting with your question for a while, and with my story, and I wonder...
Maybe that we aren't tightening the old thread any longer, but we are weaving in a new thread. And so that is why I wonder if we re-meet yoga in a new season, we will have a chance to weave a new thread into our lives that meets us perfectly where we are at.
We can never go back to "what was" but yes, the familiar will be different in the same way that we change as life goes on. This is a comforting thought...it will meet us where we are and go from there. Be gentle and compassionate with ourselves rather than shaking our heads over what we let go.
This is beautiful and often goes unacknowledged. For me, it was muffins. Stepping into the expansion of my business has meant that I no longer have time to bake muffins for my daughter’s lunch. We’ve found a compromise and my mom now baked and freezes dozens when she comes to visit, but there was a time when I was that full-time mom who could brought nutritious, homemade muffins everywhere… and I’m not that anymore. There was a definite grief. Even though it felt odd to grieve something as small as muffins, it was important. Thanks for sharing 🙏
“Even though it felt odd to grieve something as small as muffins.”
Yes. That’s exactly it. The thing is, it’s never just muffins, is it? It’s the version of you who had the time, the energy, the rhythm. Thank you for putting language to that.
As I've had time to let this essay sit, I've thought about different threads that have loosened for me over the years. Like the way I used to make slow breakfasts, or write longhand in the morning. They seem small until they’re gone, and then you realize they were a kind of grounding. And yes, muffins once were also a thing. 🧡
Yes, that’s it. You really don’t notice until it’s gone, but it’s losing a version of yourself that you can’t get back. Thank you for naming this, Alexander. I feel really seen.
I can so relate to this: “This is a story about what quietly disappears when you say yes to something that matters. The small loss.” I am writing about desires this month & have come to realize pursuing our true desires often means giving something else up. And grief can follow & must be honored. Thank you for this. Yoga is my centering practice too.
“Pursuing our true desires often means giving something else up.” Yes. Exactly. Desire is rarely clean or cost-free, even when it’s beautiful. It can be so life-giving and still come with a quiet ache. I can't wait to read your writing this month!
Thank you Alexander!
So good.
These self supportive rituals we let slip…. Because just because.
So well said, Anne. Small rituals are often where aliveness lives. I’m grateful you’re here, and that you felt this.