Trivarna, my goodness you have described grief so soulfully, so real. I was just sitting with a few very special "mom" friends from the old days last night (we are all in our 60's) telling them that "I walked toward my childhood into boxes, albums, memories and found myself there. I brought myself back in those moments and remembered my purpose for living." Guess I should write that down. They are struggling and I was telling them about some of my grief process which is now coming back more into focus. It was very heavy for a few years. Thank you for this beautiful piece that I relate to so much. I will hold you in my prayers for this journey, for this hard season, that will eventually turn to joy as it walks beside your grief and lightens the load. oxox
What an absolutely kind wish & prayer, Deborah. I’m so grateful for it. I love what you’ve said about walking toward your childhood “into boxes, albums, memories.” I agree that it’s a great idea to document them, whenever you feel comfortable doing so of course. 💝
“Hush, hush. We will crawl through the night together, I sing. My voice is scrambling out of its coagulated chords. Its blackened pit. I can hold its smallness in my hands— take apart its threads, one by one.”
I have no words to describe my awe and wonder of such perceptive, powerful writing. And I also want to extend empathy to you and your experiences. I've been there before, lost, looking for little me. Alas, we grow and change, reshaped by grief, but that part of us is still there, just different.
You’re unbelievably kind. Thank you, Nadia. I’m so grateful for the care and attention you offer these words. I am sending you all my love. And I’m holding you, and little you in my thoughts. That girl must be so proud of you today, and to see what a beautiful writer you’ve shaped yourself into. 💝
Great article! Wonderful words. I love how David Brooks in How to Know a Person writes “This process of grief and mental re-formation is also not something that can be consciously controlled. It flows along its own surprising and idiosyncratic course—again from somewhere deep within. Each mind is relentlessly remaking itself.” 🙏❤️
Eloquent and absolute in its longing and fumbling truth - grief feels a lot like incoherent soft yearning for something that has no guarantee like you expressed. Beautiful and lyrical Trivarna, thank you 💜
Oh this image of running into the arms of our younger self, feeling her vitality and abandon! I will hold onto this forever. Thank you. How tenderly, honestly, you hold hands with grief and honor it with the endless pause, while still keeping sight on the door. So beautiful, stunning really.
This poem by Rosemerry Wahtola landed in my inbox this morning and her last lines floated in as I read your piece:
Kimberly, you’re always unbelievably kind. Thank you for letting the words in, for receiving them with so much grace and care. Sending you all my love. Thanks also for sharing this stunning poem by Rosemerry Wahtola. What a gift it is. 💝
Wow I am so incredibly grateful to have been mentioned here! This piece is also so so beautiful. It made me want to be a writer all over again. <3 <3 <3
Thank you for stopping by to read Trivarna! I can see you have an eye for some fine writing. And I’m not saying because you picked mine 😊 as a new writer on Substack, I really appreciate someone helping me find the right community. Thank you for that sparkling selection of fine writing. I’m looking forward to reading everyone on the list.
Hi Rituparna, thank you - it was lovely featuring your piece. And I’m so glad you liked the curation, too. And while I haven’t read your piece on Imperfect Grief, I will do so at some point in the future. Thanks for letting me know. 🌸
Trivarna, what a delight to be featured on your newsletter! Thank you for reading and sharing - it means a lot. I really enjoy and resonate with your instagram posts and am happy to find you on substack today :)
Hi Sharmada, it was a pleasure to feature your words. And thank you, so glad you’re enjoying my Instagram page. Thank you for spending time with the words, and welcome to my Substack space! So happy to have you here. 🌸
Trivarna thank you for taking the time to write this. What a beautiful string of words that have flowed from your soul! I can feel the depth of emotion. It’s amazing. Grief is the awareness that something has changed. I wrote about this after experiencing the loss of a friend and having to let go of relationships and past identities. Think you’d enjoy it: https://open.substack.com/pub/soulwisdom/p/endings-beginnings?r=a9uns&utm_medium=ios
Thank you for your kind note, Vipul. Truly appreciate the care you’ve offered these words. I’ll be sure to read your piece very soon. Thank you for sharing it here.
Oh my goodness, there is such a real feeling of sadness and brokenness. I ache for you and I hope you are able to recover a little of the childlike joy you crave ❤️. Sending you love for the journey home.
Trivarna, my goodness you have described grief so soulfully, so real. I was just sitting with a few very special "mom" friends from the old days last night (we are all in our 60's) telling them that "I walked toward my childhood into boxes, albums, memories and found myself there. I brought myself back in those moments and remembered my purpose for living." Guess I should write that down. They are struggling and I was telling them about some of my grief process which is now coming back more into focus. It was very heavy for a few years. Thank you for this beautiful piece that I relate to so much. I will hold you in my prayers for this journey, for this hard season, that will eventually turn to joy as it walks beside your grief and lightens the load. oxox
What an absolutely kind wish & prayer, Deborah. I’m so grateful for it. I love what you’ve said about walking toward your childhood “into boxes, albums, memories.” I agree that it’s a great idea to document them, whenever you feel comfortable doing so of course. 💝
“Hush, hush. We will crawl through the night together, I sing. My voice is scrambling out of its coagulated chords. Its blackened pit. I can hold its smallness in my hands— take apart its threads, one by one.”
These words… how loudly the resonate and sing!
Deeply beautiful writing as always Trivarna 🍃
Thank you, Susie. I’m so grateful for the love and care you offer these words. 💝
I have no words to describe my awe and wonder of such perceptive, powerful writing. And I also want to extend empathy to you and your experiences. I've been there before, lost, looking for little me. Alas, we grow and change, reshaped by grief, but that part of us is still there, just different.
You’re unbelievably kind. Thank you, Nadia. I’m so grateful for the care and attention you offer these words. I am sending you all my love. And I’m holding you, and little you in my thoughts. That girl must be so proud of you today, and to see what a beautiful writer you’ve shaped yourself into. 💝
Aww. Thank you. The little girl in you is proud of you as well. Much love and strength. <3
Great article! Wonderful words. I love how David Brooks in How to Know a Person writes “This process of grief and mental re-formation is also not something that can be consciously controlled. It flows along its own surprising and idiosyncratic course—again from somewhere deep within. Each mind is relentlessly remaking itself.” 🙏❤️
Thank you so much, Jamie. And thanks for sharing that beautiful piece with me. 🌸
Eloquent and absolute in its longing and fumbling truth - grief feels a lot like incoherent soft yearning for something that has no guarantee like you expressed. Beautiful and lyrical Trivarna, thank you 💜
Thank you, Swarnali. So grateful for your care and attention. Means a lot to me coming from a beautiful writer like yourself. ❤️
Oh this image of running into the arms of our younger self, feeling her vitality and abandon! I will hold onto this forever. Thank you. How tenderly, honestly, you hold hands with grief and honor it with the endless pause, while still keeping sight on the door. So beautiful, stunning really.
This poem by Rosemerry Wahtola landed in my inbox this morning and her last lines floated in as I read your piece:
so I give myself to the low summer sun
and the dust on my feet,
to the pucker of lime
and the tears of my friend,
give myself to the ache that never leaves
and the relentless beauty that ever arrives,
and the more I give myself to the world,
the more the world rushes in
and says home, home, home,
you are home.
Kimberly, you’re always unbelievably kind. Thank you for letting the words in, for receiving them with so much grace and care. Sending you all my love. Thanks also for sharing this stunning poem by Rosemerry Wahtola. What a gift it is. 💝
Wow I am so incredibly grateful to have been mentioned here! This piece is also so so beautiful. It made me want to be a writer all over again. <3 <3 <3
Thank you, Jenny. I’m so grateful for the care you’ve offered the words. I love your writing so much - it was a delight to feature it. ❤️🌸
This made me feel so seen, you have described grief so well 💚💚
Thank you Harneek, sending you all my love. ❤️❤️
Such a gorgeous and thoughtful piece. I will need to bookmark it to savor again!
Thank you, Maggie. That’s so kind of you to say. It was a pleasure to feature your beautiful words. 🌸
Thank you for stopping by to read Trivarna! I can see you have an eye for some fine writing. And I’m not saying because you picked mine 😊 as a new writer on Substack, I really appreciate someone helping me find the right community. Thank you for that sparkling selection of fine writing. I’m looking forward to reading everyone on the list.
By the way, did you read “Imperfect Grief”?
Hi Rituparna, thank you - it was lovely featuring your piece. And I’m so glad you liked the curation, too. And while I haven’t read your piece on Imperfect Grief, I will do so at some point in the future. Thanks for letting me know. 🌸
This is so beautifully done. And what a delight to have you lead me here with your generous sharing of my poem. So grateful. Truly.
Thank you, Tara. I love reading your poems - so this means a lot to me coming from you. And it was a pleasure to feature your beautiful words. 🌸
This is a beautiful piece. Thank you for the mention ❤️
Thank you, Kate. It was a pleasure to feature your beautiful words. ❤️
Trivarna, what a delight to be featured on your newsletter! Thank you for reading and sharing - it means a lot. I really enjoy and resonate with your instagram posts and am happy to find you on substack today :)
Hi Sharmada, it was a pleasure to feature your words. And thank you, so glad you’re enjoying my Instagram page. Thank you for spending time with the words, and welcome to my Substack space! So happy to have you here. 🌸
Ooof you captured grief so gorgeously.
Thank you, Amy. And it was a pleasure to feature your beautiful words here. 🌸
Trivarna thank you for taking the time to write this. What a beautiful string of words that have flowed from your soul! I can feel the depth of emotion. It’s amazing. Grief is the awareness that something has changed. I wrote about this after experiencing the loss of a friend and having to let go of relationships and past identities. Think you’d enjoy it: https://open.substack.com/pub/soulwisdom/p/endings-beginnings?r=a9uns&utm_medium=ios
Thank you for your kind note, Vipul. Truly appreciate the care you’ve offered these words. I’ll be sure to read your piece very soon. Thank you for sharing it here.
Oh my goodness, there is such a real feeling of sadness and brokenness. I ache for you and I hope you are able to recover a little of the childlike joy you crave ❤️. Sending you love for the journey home.
Thank you. That’s such a kind note & wish, Jenn. I’m so grateful for the care you offer these words. Sending you all my love. ❤️
Sending love to you ❤️