Grief is silent. But, if it spoke, it would be of many lands and languages, dimensions, and realms. It all ends in agony, but hopefully also peace. At this point, it’s incredible to note that the emotion we all avoid is the one that holds a lot of power. Grief reveals our weakness. It shows us exactly what makes our existence worth living. It shows us a side of life most would rather not have a clue into knowing. But still, grief is inevitable, and shall I say imminent.

I didn't know a whole lot about grief before 2020. I mean when I think about it, most people don't. I know this because grief is deep in my emotional landscape right now.

My first mentor is a powerful medium, she's plenty psychic, but her gifts get intense when it comes to energy on the other side. I remember she told another medium she wanted to connect me with, "Tonesha doesn't have many people on the other side that she knew well." It feels like she said that just yesterday, and now that has all changed.

I've learned in grief that no matter what your intentions are, humanity is always desperate to fulfill selfish desires. So what I'm telling you is, even on your worst day, in your worst season, people will still expect you to satisfy their need for connection, need for endless banter, and need for recognition. What I know now about grief is that it wants to be left alone. It needs time to make it all make sense. But also, grief is strange in that you never know how it will manifest for you. How it manifests depends on who you are at a soul level, and your soulful awareness. Even in that, people grieve differently. And because of that, the best sources of support are the energies that you already call on to support you in smaller things, things less significant than grief.

Grief is eerie in the silence it requires, despite the noise of the constant flow of condolences. What are condolences anyway? I mean, really.

Everything changes in sorrow, and in loss.

How could it ever be the same? When something constant and is irrevocably yours leaves this plane, there is no consolation.

Does anyone genuinely feel less supported if someone doesn't provide that reminder that they have lost someone? I find myself going about my day because I have to; I have kids, I have a spouse, I have one parent left experiencing some form of shock, and a brother that is a walking zombie in some alternate universe. It's grief season, and I don't have time to grieve mentally. I am consumed with what needs to be done, what must be done. That's what it means to have a rescue as the center of your life theme. Honestly, this is empath-ing. I am full of the emotions of those that need me more than there is space to do anything else. Imagine humming along like that, rushing to serve others' needs, and someone says, "I'm so sorry you've lost your Dad." What are you supposed to say? And, what pain does that relieve? I have noticed that it automatically transfers the energy, and now you have to hold space for the one that is perfectly whole. Now you, the griever, the one whose life is upside down, is having to search your soul for details, information, a short story about how it all happened.

You see, we don't know a lot about grief.

We: those in ego, those who aren't deeply connected to the person or thing they are trying to support. We, who need support and shouldn't try to hold space for others because we have no room. Might I also say, we Americans?

In this season of grief, I have been most thankful for those in my life who see through me. To see through someone, you must be stronger than they are in some aspect, even for a moment. But you know that's rare. That type of support is golden. The people that can think ahead of you while you grieve, and that deeply understands what it means to experience loss, and have processed it soulfully, spiritually, not just moved on as time took them further away from that moment, that experience. 

To actually support someone, you have to understand how they value support. This concept may be a revelation for some, but everyone doesn't value community. People don't always find strength in numbers or aimless chatter. Empaths find strength in Spirit, in remembrance, in true healing. I wish we got more things right. I wish we fell back more to ponder the right approach. I wish we had more time...

I wish we could grieve without noise.