I attended a grief yoga workshop a few days ago.
The nearly four hour afternoon included an introduction where we were to say who we were dedicating the workshop to, chanting, breathing, group exercises about grief, and finally, yoga. The afternoon went really fast. I heard some very sad stories, and met some very sad people. I put the photo of Rupert and I on the altar, along with other photos of the no longer living yet still loved.
I really like this poem by Ellen Bass, read to us by the grief yoga workshop leader:
The Thing Is
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
I am cleaning and packing this afternoon in anticipation of traveling to Portland tomorrow for the memorial up there with his college buddies. I can’t wait to hear their stories. It will be good to get out of the house, too. Traveling always makes me feel better, and everything I do that involves healing my grieving heart helps.