There must be something strangely sacred about salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.Kahlil Gibran

Those of us who’ve suffered one or more devastating losses often describe grief as being like the ocean with pain and longing breaking over us in waves. At times, the sadness is overwhelming, and we feel as though we’re drowning. But over time, we learn to float, to keep our head above water. We begin to recognize when the big waves are coming and become better able to deal with them. Although we never escape the sadness, we learn to navigate the waters of grief and move forward into the life we create in the wake of our loss.

a panoramic photo of Pismo Beach at sunset

During my darkest days, I found that the wisdom and experience of other grievers helped me to re-enter the world. They showed me that life after the death of a beloved was possible, that I could begin to see beauty, find grace and feel hope, even joy. They helped me realize that love was all around me, and all I had to do was lean in.

At Salt Water, our community can help you find your equilibrium and begin to heal after an unbearable loss. As Barbara Kingsolver put it so beautifully in High Tide in Tucson:

What a stroke of luck. What a singular brute feat of outrageous fortune: to be born into citizenship in the animal kingdom. We love and we lose, go back to the start and do it right over again. For every heavy forebrain solemnly cataloguing the facts of a harsh landscape, there’s a rush of intuition behind it crying out: High tide! Time to move out into the glorious debris. Time to take this life for what it is.

We invite you to become part of our community. Share your story, ask a question, make a comment. We’d love to hear from you.

Never miss an article or podcast! Subscribe here to be notified whenever new content is posted to Salt Water.

Jimmy is in the ocean wearing swim trunks. His arms are outstretched, reaching to catch a football.

Let It Rain Down

You can’t stop time. You can’t capture light. You can only turn your face up and let it rain down. The Memory Keeper’s Daughter

White heart being held in the hands of an African American woman with orange fingernails

The Grief Gift

Marika Páez Wiesen is an educator, writer, and coach for women who are ready to unhook from all-or-nothing, toxic-productivity mindsets. Her Substack newsletter, Living the In-Between Times, explores playful experiments that uncover the delight, awe, ease and yes! that waits for us in the in-between times of life.

It Will Not Come Again

Only when the clock stops does time come to life. William Faulkner

The Widow Warriors

The ones who found their love when they were just children, and married young, before they really knew who they were. She who gave her youth, her strength, her innocence, her gifts, and invested them in her man, her children, her family. She who gave decades of her time and resources willingly …

Repairing My Heart

What if we don’t have to be healed to be whole? There are holes in every inch of the fabric that makes me who I am. Andrea Gibson

Pink hollyhocks

Chat with the dead husband

Look, I say to him as I water the last
of the hollyhocks, small bursts
sprouting from the yellow-stick stalks

that all summer long sported baby pink
frilly numbers fluttering like tutus.
I hope you’re up there—wherever there is

error: Our content is protected.