Lately, I’ve felt a pull not only to dream, but to create those things that I’m dreaming of. To take my dreams more seriously.

And, what has followed is… anxiety. Fear. The border between fantasy and manifestation is a risky one. Cost seems inevitable. Failure is always possible. And with both of those comes the possibility of the loss of the dream entirely…

It seems grief doesn’t leave for good. But even acknowledgement that death is real, death has come, needs a process and ritual (and rest). Then, we need practices for transmuting the sorrow, hopelessness, and sometimes guilt into movement and life-making (with rest).