God’s sense of humor is a funny one. We’re born never asking for the toil or heartache, only to find ourselves lost, found and then lost again. two halves of a human you once knew as home, now fractured and feeble; the grief, bifurcating in its presence.

Childlike; I float through life, coddling myself like a babe after my literal guts have been splayed, torn and bled to the bare studs of my foundation. It feels fragile when you have no net, no ship to ensure you’re safely out to sea (onto the next adventure of healing something that may never truly mend).

I say that grief is my greatest teacher as a Scorpio stellium+. I’ve waded through transformations so deep my soul is tissue thin. fortified, yet transparent in its nature; unyielding in its quest for cover, allowing the light to pass through.

Holding grief and joy in one body is a most tender act, alchemizing our hearts, expanding our capacity — but big words mean nothing when you’re balling on the floor, wailing out to God for a cure, a moment of reprieve. you wonder when your artistry will begin to be a balm; how does one heal what’s so deeply hurting?

It’s a portal into the unknown (a fitting descriptor, i suppose). a request to soften, breathe and be in it however long it takes. I have no answers as to the destination because I’m still in the thick of it, alone. The days mostly feel light, fresh, with pits of frustration, anger and bone-deep exhaustion; a dichotomy confusing and familiar to hold. As many times as I’ve expressed the tangibles, no one save self can carry the depth of my sorrow; most only seeking to assuage the sting of my life being absorbed through their ears.

Grief has been a guide back to myself and an acceptance that other side doesn’t really exist. it’s one journey, a continual spiral deeper within, all dimensions present at once — integrated.

Sending love to all those grieving and especially those holding themselves through it. May we all feel the levity of lighter days <3