"We’ve been running away from our collective heartbreak for centuries and centuries. We have to choose to be embodied; we have to choose to touch into and metabolize that brokenheartedness." -Lama Rod Owens
Our heritage as humans, no matter what part of the world, has been to process grief through collective creating and making.
We'd gather together when someone died and work on beautiful burial shrouds, arrange flowers or stones or thread or mandalas, dig final resting places, give offerings to ancestors, group wailing/crying/singing, eat a mournful feast of gratitude and love together and stop the clocks.
What happens when we no longer have creative rites to express the deep love of our hearts pouring out through our hands?