i’ve been learning how to grieve since my father was killed when i was 13. at the time, i definitely didn’t know how to grieve. my instinctive reaction to the shockingly traumatic death was a mixture of denial, avoidance and hyper fixation on the activities of my already busy life. i performed in my dance studio’s end-of-year showcase the weekend after the murder, and had my bat mitzvah less than two months later.

in the seventeen years since, i’ve grown and expanded in ways i never would have imagined, and my biggest conclusion is this: learning to grieve means learning to let myself feel.

death is an inextricable part of life. none of us can avoid it, and yet some of us are challenged to face it at much younger ages than others. this lays the foundation for how we see and understand grief, but the understanding is definitely a lifelong path.

a few months ago, i had the opportunity to speak to a zen buddhist meditation group very close to my heart. the topic was “the great matter” of life, death and grieving. i was asked how my experiences with loss have led to my current path, as well as my intuitive movement and healing journey. i felt so much respect and reverence when i spoke to that group, just one of the magical benefits of vulnerability and open sharing.

having been a dedicated student for many years, there is an ease within me when i approach things from an intellectual point of view. but then there are the feelings. emotions. the inner stirrings that make us humans so inexplicably special.

a few weeks after i spoke, the leader of the group took the end of life option through hospice as a way to conclude his battle with cancer. the way he approached the whole subject was to prepare his sangha (or meditation group) to process his passing as he himself was processing what was about to take place. the honesty and vulnerability with which he treated his exit from this world took me aback, and i continue to be overcome with emotion whenever i really let myself remember, and sit with, this huge loss of life.

in the weeks since his passing, i have come to understand even more of how a new relationship to grief can look and feel. allowing myself to let emotions pass through as they arise has been a challenge for much of my life. but something about this loss opened me up a bit more than usual.

maybe it was the extent to which i could feel him caring for all of us, even as he was experiencing unimaginably difficult life transitions. or maybe it’s because he happened to be one of the kindest, complementary, and encouraging humans i’ve ever met.

for a good while, his was the only review on my website (there’s 2 at the time of this writing ;). he was a forever champion of clumsy world, a dedicated supporter who reminded me each time we spoke that what i am doing is worthwhile and powerful. sharing the art that i make is not just a business or a selfish pursuit, but rather a way of engaging with my community. sharing the magic of colors, fused glass, film photography and collaborative exploration is my way of contributing positivity and acceptance into our culture.

taizan contributed his buddhist teachings, colorful artworks (encouraged by my aunt rhoda bloom-erath) and his magnificent zest for life up until his last day. i can only hope to embody a similar energy, bringing joy and peace to people’s lives in each moment and interaction. it is my honor to have had the privilege of his friendship, and i’ll never forget the way he made me feel ~ like anything is possible, and we’re the luckiest beings to be alive at this very moment.

my hope is that for each of us, as we learn to grieve, we simultaneously learn to trust and honor our intuition. i want for us to embrace the yearnings of our souls, no matter how much anxiety or trepidation they may stir up in us. this beautiful world needs each of us to step into our fullest selves, engaged in passionate pursuits and sharing love with our community. that is truly the best way i’ve found to keep hold onto a sense of meaning amidst loss and grief. i’m here for each of you, and i can’t express enough how much i appreciate the support you’ve given me. thank you. i love you.