Imagine we're in a boat, and it's taking on water here and there - maybe we pass through a big storm, maybe it rains, maybe we hit something and end up with a hole, maybe it's wear and tear over time. If we don't bail it out and keep the water low, we're going to end up with wet feet.

Grief is kind of like that. If we don’t take the time to tend to it regularly, we might end up drowning in it…

Often our grief feels bottomless, like it’s too big for our bodies to contain. And so we make the choice, consciously or unconsciously, to stay a bit numb, to keep busy, to look the other way.

Wise choices.

Grief is a land we’re not made to travel alone.

What if we remembered how to create a solid ground for grief, and travelled it together?

When we’re in the middle of change and nothing is clear, how do we find the way forward? We can’t go back, but we also don’t know which way to go now.

There are three loose phases to times of change, and the messy middle is where the magic is, if we can learn to stay there in a way that allows us to find our gold.

If you want to stop being judgemental, a nice first step is to stop judging the part of you that judges stuff.

Being judgemental in itself isn’t bad. It’s part of being discerning and knowing what we want, knowing what we’ll tolerate, knowing our boundaries.

The secret to becoming more accepting of yourself and of the rest of the world is to let your internal judge do its judgey thing, and taking what it says with as many grains of salt as you need.