2024 has hands down been the most difficult year to date. While I have lost my way in more ways than I can count, I have held tightly to a few practices that ground me. Waking early to a quiet house and a fresh cup of coffee is a luxury that I highly recommend. Most mornings I light a candle and journal while listening to music that makes me feel connected. Sometimes I wake up early enough to include a 6:30 am pilates class which gets me home just as my family begins to stir. When I make time for myself in the morning, I feel at ease in my body and I am able to show up for the day with presence and kindness.
After my brother died, a friend gave me Healing After Loss, daily meditations for working through grief by Martha W. Hickman. This little book understands me. This little book provides comfort and support and companionship when I feel the most alone in my grief. This morning, like most mornings, I read the short passage for the day. It brought me to tears, but not the sobbing ones that I have shed this week over and over again, but rather for the first time tears of hope. December 29, 2024 was the year anniversary of Ryan’s death. The lead up was awful, but the actual day was startlingly worse.
Here we are on the eve of a new year, 2025 is upon us.
It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness—unknown
I took a deep breath and thought about how I can let the light in just a little bit more. Grief is an elixir that I never wanted to take, but it has irrevocably changed me. I am not the same. And, maybe that is a good thing.
With so much love and gratitude for the unknown, I welcome 2025 by searching for opportunities to light a candle rather than curse the darkness. It is on me.
So beautiful, Danielle. ❤️
Cheers to the quiet luxuries not to be taken for granted!