Sorrow is a thing of brittle bones
Take it in your hands very gently
And place it in the winter sun where it shines through a window
Breathe its story deeply
And write what it tells you
Leaving nothing out, no word unattended
When you look up
Sorrow may have grown feathers
Open the window
And let it fly
*Do not turn your back on sorrow nor ignore its deep tides. Instead use its contemplative spaces to write, create art. When we truly feel our feelings, the light and the dark, the scary and the terrifying – they transform, and so do we.
What felt so extraordinarily difficult to weather, can become instead, cause for entirely new perspectives.
Header photo Chris Sabor
Another – from 2017 – photo from a trip to the red centre