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.

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There Is Nothing To Be Done

All this striving is wearing you down.
You’re fighting with life like you’re in charge.
There is nothing to be done. This is the way things are.
Loosen your grip; the glass is already broken.
Carolyn Davis Rudolph

Purple and red sunset. The silhouette of a woman with her arms raised in a "Y" standing on a rock on the right. There are other pillar-like boulders in the middle and left.

Uninvited Guest

You, ominous echo of death,
have numbed me.
You sit on me like a giant boulder
I cannot escape.

The Sea Accepts All Rivers

Carrying home a bag of books I think of all the books I will never know about because you will not show them to me. I think of the loss of knowledge, all the things I will never know because you are not here to tell me. I cannot ask questions, I cannot be reminded. Elizabeth Alexander 

The Love No One Can Steal

May whatever breaks be reconstructed by the sea with the long labor of its tides. Pablo Neruda

finding your way to Bodieu

I don’t know if it helps, but you will know what to do when the time arrives.
Others will give you advice, point you to their own experience. Sorry, there is no video.

Wooden dock stretching into the distance. Beyond it is a row of trees. Water is on both sides. The sky is cloudy. and dark. The sun has set in the right of the picture leaving a faint bit of orange above the trees and reflected on the water.

It Takes The Darkness

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn that anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you. David Whyte

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