Personal essays on love, life, grief,
and becoming.
'How frail the human heart must be — a mirrored pool of thought' ~ Sylvia Plath

For decades, I gave myself to the study halls of psychology. But study is not the same as apprenticeship.
All my life I have been apprenticed to the relentless, unforgiving, bewildering nature of the human heart. And now, in the only season that is ever truly given — this present moment — I practice not a profession, but the lived embodiment of grief.
Not as a cure. Not as a project. But as a companion, a taskmaster, a teacher whose presence you cannot outgrow.
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These days my learning bends toward the soul: toward the unyielding fact that love does not die when bodies do, that relationships do not end at the grave, and that grief, properly heeded, tells us who we really are.
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I’m glad you’ve found your way here.
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N.J. Wilde