I wonder where my grandmother is and if she knows I don't know what to do with her death and if that is ok. I think of my mother and that she's lost her mom and the enormity of that is just too vast for my mind to grasp. How can you lose your mother? I know this is life and people die all the time and also people are born. Energy and love recycled. I feel so much I have to write it down and when I can't see what I'm writing anymore I roll out a yoga mat that's not mine and I sit on it and cry into the emptiness of my reflection staring back at me from the living room window. I cry until I can't breathe and still it's just scratching at the surface of what needs to be felt and moved through and let out. I cry and then I stop and I go back to bed. What would my world be like without my mom? It's no world. I can't even see it in my mind as an imaginary place. But my grandmother is gone. My mothers mother. So I wonder, how is this the order of things? People die. Mothers and grandmothers and best friends and dogs. They die and when they go they leave you things like yoga mats and trees that are suddenly alive in your garden and also your mother. They take a lot. But they leave you things that are everything. So you lost but you have so much. Your heart is bigger now and there is more room for noticing things like what the wind feels like on your cheek in the morning. But you've lost your ground and you have to stumble in the dark not knowing where to place your feet or how to protect yourself from the newness of life ahead. And sometimes you wake yourself up crying in the middle of the night and it's loud but it's quiet and there are dogs in your bed but not the one you dream of over and over again and in your dreams you keep losing him in malls and in the woods and at airports and it's not your fault but it is. And then your husband squeezes your hand and you know the dog is not lost but with grandmothers and soul sisters because when we pass everyone is found. Everyone is found. So we keep going. One day we will find our way but for now we are still fumbling through the darkness with trembling hands and beating hearts, wondering where to place our feet next.

yoga_girlさん(@yoga_girl)が投稿した動画 -

レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 9月1日 13時13分


I wonder where my grandmother is and if she knows I don't know what to do with her death and if that is ok. I think of my mother and that she's lost her mom and the enormity of that is just too vast for my mind to grasp. How can you lose your mother? I know this is life and people die all the time and also people are born. Energy and love recycled. I feel so much I have to write it down and when I can't see what I'm writing anymore I roll out a yoga mat that's not mine and I sit on it and cry into the emptiness of my reflection staring back at me from the living room window. I cry until I can't breathe and still it's just scratching at the surface of what needs to be felt and moved through and let out. I cry and then I stop and I go back to bed.

What would my world be like without my mom? It's no world. I can't even see it in my mind as an imaginary place. But my grandmother is gone. My mothers mother. So I wonder, how is this the order of things? People die. Mothers and grandmothers and best friends and dogs. They die and when they go they leave you things like yoga mats and trees that are suddenly alive in your garden and also your mother. They take a lot. But they leave you things that are everything. So you lost but you have so much. Your heart is bigger now and there is more room for noticing things like what the wind feels like on your cheek in the morning. But you've lost your ground and you have to stumble in the dark not knowing where to place your feet or how to protect yourself from the newness of life ahead. And sometimes you wake yourself up crying in the middle of the night and it's loud but it's quiet and there are dogs in your bed but not the one you dream of over and over again and in your dreams you keep losing him in malls and in the woods and at airports and it's not your fault but it is. And then your husband squeezes your hand and you know the dog is not lost but with grandmothers and soul sisters because when we pass everyone is found. Everyone is found.
So we keep going. One day we will find our way but for now we are still fumbling through the darkness with trembling hands and beating hearts, wondering where to place our feet next.


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