Wild Grief

I went to visit my mother where she's buried in the wilderness

I brought some things back. I'll share them with you.

1. There were cougar prints.

2. I decided cougar could kill me. I'll have a death - that seems like one I might look back on fondly.

3. Nonetheless, I put rocks into my pockets.

4. I napped by her grave.

5. I almost never nap.

6. The first place I laid was on an ant hill - they swarmed my legs but didn't bite me. I wondered if they know my mother.

7. Three trees were a stand together - two had fallen sometime, at once or one by one. One was standing, but near falling.

8. I walked on the fallen trees.

9. I liked how my feet held on.

10. I felt brave walking from their root to their top.

11. Their tops rose higher from the ground, because almost living branches held them up.

12. Their tops were low compared to the top of the standing, dying one because height is relative and impermanent.

13. This is all obvious and surprising.

14. I noticed the meadow that was once the forest floor.

15. It was soft.

16 When I left I said goodby to my dead mother, who seems to be there, ongoing.

17 When I left I think my mother came along with me.

I don't know how or where my mother is or isn't dead.

Wild Grief Creature Encounters starring Jana DeCristofaro of the Dougy Center

In this special episode Sascha, Jana and I search out and approach our wild grief creatures.

They are lava monsters, and scared things trapped behind sliding doors. They are vaporous, shocked, frozen and misunderstood. 

They grieve death, separation, abandonment and things unknown. They are adrift and anchored and swimming strongly in their own and a big communal river of loss.   

We'd love you to crouch with us and try to catch a glimpse. We'd love to crouch and catch a glimpse of yours.

Listen here or wherever you listen to podcasts