I don’t want to make my bed today.
I don’t want to flatten the sheets out.
And tuck in the blankets just right.
I don’t want to arrange the pillows at the head board.
Or plump the cushions and neatly arrange the throw.
I don’t want to clean the bedside of its snotty waste land of discarded tissues.
Or gather clothes strewn in the wrathful heat of the night.
Not today, or tomorrow or the next.
I’m tired of neat edges and being folded just right.
I’m tired of creating displays that say, I’m onto to it and all is fine.
I’m tired of prettying up what needs to be left unmade.
I want to show up in company today with my naked tear-stained face.
And the truthfulness of raw grief in my eyes.
I want to wear my dirty track suit marked with the messiness of the night’s despair.
I want to leave my hair wild, untamed with the sorrow that rips through me in waves.
I want to allow the seeing of raw heartbreak and not tie it up in a palatable bow.
Maybe if this was our collective way I would not recently,
been at yet another funeral with heart broken strangers,
saying goodbye to a precious young man
who simply could not endure any more of life.
What happens when grief takes its place at the round table of visioning?
Where forward plans are made and the collaboration of dreaming unfolds?
What happens when a seat is made for grief’s authentic expression alongside joy, excitement, and wonder?
What happens when decision makers allow space for the honesty of grief and embrace its invitation into our shared heart break?
When choking truths are spoken aloud and the reckoning of loss is placed firmly on the table.
When the commonality of grief is allowed to flow freely amongst us and we begin together to vision and plan a responsive, relevant future.
I’ll tell you want happens because sadly it’s a rare thing.
Facade cracks open.
Ambition subsides.
Spaciousness leads and people risk openly sharing their deepest longings.
A vision deeper, greater and more whole emerges.
One that centres in love and care.
One that holds truthfulness and resonates with hope.
One that speaks to the essential nature of community and re-membering us back to belonging.
When grief sits at the table, heart led leaders dare to collectively dream, turn longings into beginnings and mobilise together.
This is a table around which I am honoured to have a seat.
From which FEAST is tended, nourished and guided.
Where elders reside alongside the breastfeeding mother as she nourishes her baby.
Where the erotic fuels our fire and pleasure reigns.
Where we listen deeply, speak bravely and play joyfully.
Where grief in its messiness and painful mirror is valued amongst us all.
For us, there is no truthful way forward without our grief.
How do you make space for grief and utilising it in visioning your own life and erotic explorations? How do you share it with others and invite its deepening and expansion? Are you willing to allow it truth telling and open yourself to what it most longs for?
Grief and loss are not strangers to me, however every time they amplify in my life, I am humbled by their teachings and the richness of living they evoke.
May you also welcome your grief and allow your longings to guide your way.
If you would like to be a part of such heart led communities that centre the erotic, please join our FEAST mailing list and stay in touch with our offerings.
