a post about grief and gratitude

It's a Tuesday. I am heartbroken today, so I'm doing what I've learned to do: recenter myself. I've learned one way I can do this by giving myself the time and space to write.

There's a lot that has made me feel like a table with one short, wobbly leg. I could list it all, but really, the point is not to ruminate on what is hurting and devastating. That will be there. I am holding that grief, of its many forms, and I am feeling my capacity to be with it and bear witness to it. Which brings me back to this point and intention around gratitude:

Paradoxically, I feel such abundance for my capacity to hold deep sadness and grief. That I can rock it, hold it, be with it. That is an amazing thing that makes me feel tremendously strong and resilient.

I went to Linnea's yoga class on Saturday morning ...and Sunday evening. On Saturday morning, we were bears and a host of other creatures. On Sunday, moving into frog-form at her direction, I decided to attempt to retain the other forms we embodied: from frogs, to sandwiches, to flying squirrels, and others... She creates a space for play and discovery and presence.

As we moved out of one seated pose, with our legs on the floor in front of us, she had us lean forward, taking both hands to walk them down our legs toward our feet, squeezing and holding the flesh of our quadriceps, knees, shins, and ankles along the way. Then, when we we were leaning forward, holding our ankles with our fingertips, she asked us to walk our hands back up, squeezing and touching our legs along the way, saying, "Sometimes I forget I can give *myself* a massage..."

I was surprised and struck by that, as squeezing and lovingly touching my own flesh felt good. It felt like care and nurturing and comfort, at my disposal at any moment.

So maybe today's gratitude is about self-love and care. The commitment to hold and love and honor myself as gently and fully as I can.