Grief is Love’s Souvenir
It's the receipt we wave in the air that says,
“Look— love lived here, and I loved well.” 🕯️
Grief has a way of pulling you back into your body, whether you want to be there or not. It tightens the chest, slows the breath, and makes everything feel heavier than it used to. I used to think the goal was transcendence— to rise above my humanness, my grief, my thoughts and feelings, the mess of being me. But grief taught me something different. The holiest thing I’ve ever known is learning how to live as both flesh and Soul, fully human and fully Spirit at the same time. Being tender, honest, and affected isn’t a failure of spirituality. It’s proof that we loved.
Grief isn’t only about missing someone who is no longer walking this planet. We grieve friendships, people who are still living, chapters of our lives that have closed, and past versions of ourselves we can no longer return to. There’s no linear path through it, no designated amount of time, no right or wrong way to grieve. It doesn’t follow rules or timelines, and it doesn’t move neatly forward. Grief revisits. It shows up unexpectedly in grocery store aisles, in songs, on random Tuesdays.. long after you think you should be “past it.” That doesn’t mean you’re going backward, it means love is still alive in you.
And in some moments, you think: How can a person withstand this? Yet you choose to hold love gently, like a face between your hands. You meet life as it is fully present. And you say yes. I will take you. I will be here. I will love again.
Grief is vast enough to hold contradictions. You can miss someone or something deeply and still feel relief, lightness, gratitude, or even joy at times. None of that cancels your love. Mixed emotions don’t make you disloyal— they make you human.
One of the most surprising truths about grief is that it doesn’t get smaller with time. Life gets bigger around it. Your capacity expands. Your nervous system learns new rhythms. Joy returns, not to replace the grief, but to sit beside it. Grief arrives not to drown you, but to deepen you. It stretches the heart wider than comfort ever could and rearranges you in ways you don’t expect. What mattered before may not matter in the same way now. Your energy, priorities, and relationships may shift. That isn’t something going wrong, that’s integration.
How to Honor Your Grief
Mini Mission for Presence and Care
✨ The Body Check-In
(5 energy points)
Place one hand on your chest and one on your belly. Notice where grief lives in your body today. There is no need to change it. Nothing here is wrong.
🌊 Name It Gently
(10 energy points)
Name what you are grieving right now. A person, a chapter, a version of yourself. You don’t need to explain it. Simply acknowledge it.
❤️ The Love Reminder
(15 energy points)
Bring to mind one small moment that reminds you why this grief exists. Let it be simple. Grief is love remembering itself.
🫂 Permission to Rest
(20 energy points)
Offer yourself one act of gentleness today. Move slower. Cancel something. Sit in the sun. Rest is part of healing.
You don’t get over what mattered. You grow around it. You rebuild yourself with tenderness and truth. You become whole again (changed, yes) but richer for having loved at all. If you’re carrying grief right now, nothing is wrong with you. You are alive, and your heart has stretched open, deepening your capacity to love and feel.
Even in grief, life is still for you. You are allowed to move gently, trust the timing of your healing, and believe that more love, meaning, and beauty are still unfolding.
I see you, and I love you in all your humanness.
I'm here, always.
XO, Liv
