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Writing the Waves of Grief


Some years ago, my father, grandmother, and Jag, our beloved cat, died within a few months of each other. I felt like I had been hit by a truck. A very big truck.


For about a six-month period, I honestly didn't know how I managed to get from Point A to Point B. The pain was quite intense at first, and then my body went numb, my feet felt like they were sloshing through the thickest mud, and I was getting absolutely nowhere.


For me, the world had lost its luster, its color, and I didn't feel like doing much of anything. There was a huge pit in my stomach, like someone had taken their fist and punched it, punched it hard and knocked the wind right out of me. Sometimes I wasn't even sure I was breathing. Or eating. Or sleeping.


Or writing.


People react to grief in different ways. In my case, I just wanted to retreat from the world, crawl inside myself and feel sad.


Not long after the loss of my loved ones, I went to my favorite beach in Narragansett and sat alone in the lookout tower, staring at the sea. I was searching for answers, for clarity, for peace. Why them? Why now? All of that.




On this particular day, the ocean was that beautiful seafoam green color that I love so much. I meditated on its cleansing, color ray and felt a bit better. And then I turned to other colors of the sea—aqua, turquoise, cobalt, and lavender.


I saw them all in the water that day and their color energies helped me through the grief. This was how my "Colors of the Sea" workshop and CD were born. This was how I pulled through, how I soldiered on through my personal sea of grief.


Washington Irving said: "There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love."


Well, I have surely cried a bucket of tears and there will probably be many more to come during this time of transition and birthing of the New Earth. From what I’ve seen, more and more beings are opting to leave the planet, whether from sickness, violence or natural disasters.


But what about those of us who are left to tend to Gaia? How do we go on? How do we cope?


Write Out the Pain

Writers hear it all the time, to write what we know. It may seem difficult to do when you're grieving, but each time you put pen to paper and write your most painful experiences, you come that much closer to healing.


Did you know that writing when you're in pain makes your fiction writing more real and authentic?


The first time I killed off a character was when I was writing Inn Lak'ech. The character was beloved in Little Blessing and even though I knew he had gone to a better place, I made myself grieve all over again. It's like what Method actors do; they remember a time and place to tap into what their character is feeling, like wearing a second skin.


Breathing Lessons

Are you angry or grieving right now? Try my color breathing technique with the Colors of the Sea and feel better!







Writing Exercise
Write a heartfelt letter to the person, animal or object you lost.


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