Grief and Soul Food

Hello dear friends,

Thanks for still being here in spite of my inconsistent postings.

I have had a dam-sized writer’s block! What is a writing clogbuster? Turns out sometimes it is simply starting to write something, anything. It can be writing that sucks, but it might lead you into what you actually want to say.

I’ve been thinking about the juxtaposition of grief and joy. We live in a time of such grief for a world that is becoming crueler by the day, led by people who are eager to sell their souls, though sometimes I wonder if they actually have souls.

“It’s not just burnout. It’s grief. Grief for a world that forgot how to care. For truth that keeps slipping. For a moral center that no longer holds.” Dr. Zelana Montminy

I struggle with my personal grief of living in the shadow of cancer. I’m making my way back from my scary experience with brain metastases, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I would be able to fight back for a while. Now there is slow improvement, thankfully, but my tank has been empty.

I have to make some treatment decisions. There is one that might be quite effective, but it can also have difficult side effects. I hold the possible efficacy in one hand and the possible side effects in the other, weighing the options. More good time in this beautiful life with my beloveds is my prayer.

And then the Universe graciously throws me a life line, some soul food calling me back to life. Human kindness. Music. Poetry. Joy. Laughter. Shared stories. Connection.

I wanted to see Allison Russell perform live one more time so several months ago I bought tickets for a performance this month in Seattle. I hadn’t reserved accessible seats at the time because I was more able-bodied then. When I inquired about accessible seats in this mostly standing venue a couple of months ago, they were sold out. We decided to go anyway and see what we could figure out. Kindness intervened and a friend reached out to a connection at the venue the day of the show and they said no worries, we will take care of you. We arrived and were seated at, I kid you not, the best seats in the house at a table in the VIP section. Kindness makes me cry, so some tears were shed. Shout out to the fabulous Showbox staff who were so gracious. And Allison Russell was fantastic. She just gets better and better. She channels some incredible energy and you can feel the presence of the ancestors at her shows. Soul Food.

If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you will know of my love for Andrea Gibson and their poetry. There is a new documentary, Come See Me in the Good Light, about Andrea and their spouse, Megan Falley, both poets, documenting their life and love as they have navigated Andrea’s stage 4 cancer. It has been my heartfelt wish that I be able to see this film which tells a story that is so close to home. It is playing the festival circuit now. I’d tried unsuccessfully to get tickets to see it in San Francisco, but lo and behold it happened to be playing at the Seattle International Film Festival the weekend that we were in Seattle, the day after Allison Russell’s concert. And so my wife and best friend and I laughed and cried as we watched. I had my hand on my heart the whole time and I could feel myself filling up again.

I highly recommend the film, and if you don’t have an opportunity to see it at a film festival, Apple TV has picked it up and it will show in the fall. You might think a film about poets and incurable cancer would be a downer, but you would be wrong. Poignant, yes, but also full of life and joy and laughter. Soul food.

“Imagine, when a human dies, the soul misses the body, actually grieves the loss of its hands and all they could hold.” Andrea Gibson

Tincture from Lord of the Butterflies by Andrea Gibson

If I let grief swallow me, I miss all the joy, the love, the wonder, the beauty that is this life too. So I dig my stubborn heels into the mud, and hoist myself out of the pool of grief to accept the offering of soul food. I lay in the sun on the grass and let healing come. I feel the heaviness lift, and take a deep breath.

Don’t underestimate the power of human kindness and connection, of stories shared, of music and art, of beauty, of truth telling, to call us back from the brink. We’re in this together.

Wishing you your own flavor of soul food. Thank you for being here.

Love you,

Maija

Song for the Day:

Michael Franti and Spearhead, I Hope I Come Back as a Song

The complete Healing Happens playlist is available on Spotify and Apple Music.

Healing Happens on Spotify

Healing Happens on Apple Music