Recess: A meditation For Grief

for those in search of a space to feel held

Yesterday I was in the garden with my hands buried deep in the dirt, searching for the last of the potatoes. The soil was damp and cool, crumbling between my fingers as I dug. My chest felt tight, but I couldn’t figure out why. I kept pulling at the same stubborn root, tug after tug, but it wouldn’t budge. Sweat slid down my back. The heat of the fading sun pressed heavy on me. For a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was the root that was stuck…or me.

Grief is sneaky like that. It doesn’t just sit in the heart, it spreads out. A drop in the stomach. A knot in the throat. Tense shoulders creeping higher and higher. It shows up without warning and makes a home in the body.

Whenever grief feels too heavy for me to hold alone I turn to the ocean, to Yemayá, mother of waters. When I sit by her shore, I hear her voice in the waves. She reminds me that nothing stays fixed. That the tide moves in and out. That everything transforms.

A boat adorned with offerings to Yemayá.

If grief is keeping you company right now, come sit with us. Find a place of stillness. Brew your favorite tea. Light a candle. Listen to the water. Let Yemayá remind you that you are held and you are loved.

Listen to the meditation

And as you return from the water, remember grief is not a sign of weakness. It’s proof that we have cared deeply, that we have been touched by life in ways that matter.

To grieve is to love.