“Dear Janitor, I Owe You a Mop (and Other Lessons in Grief & Grace)”

It was the kind of week where the universe throws a chaos like a tornado — death, flat tires, wounded horses, and one too many existential howlings.

Somewhere between eviscerating our meat chickens and crying in the truck, I started to wonder if the coyotes were judging me... could almost hear them whisper,“Is that wild human… wailing again?” Yes. I became a daily Banshee-Crooner (it wasn't pretty).

Grief has a signature way of showing up: uninvited at all hours of the nightmare, zero manners, drinks all your tea, and snot-blowing into your laundry pile (dirty or clean?!).

And because I am a 'pro' in holding it together — I did what any mature adult would do: I started seeking out moldy supply closets to have my 'moment.'

But my 'angels' are stand-up comedians - and they intervened — or maybe it was just some sweet soul who noticed that the janitor’s closet was sobbing. Someone slid a pack of tissues under the door. Soft and Kind tissues. And I swear the universe smirked.

Because that’s the thing about grief — it’s not just about incense and 'moving on'. It’s about how you 'move through' the emotions: the tiny mercies and existential wisdom that keeps you from unraveling completely. It’s the hug that breaks your composure and allows you to weep for love. It's the awkward smile that escapes between sobs; the ridiculous, messy ways you remember that you are alive and tenderly human.

I used to think grief needed my sacrifice or some kind of church (or yoga?!). But sometimes, my grief just needs a good laugh — the kind that sneaks up on you like a farting horse. Because laughter doesn’t erase the pain; it gives it more context. It lets breath slip between the sobs and whisper,“You’re feelings are life-force. And you’re still an Alchemista.”

So here’s to all the heartbreakers and mop-huggers. To the ones still crying over their coffee cups. To the ones who find beauty in wild things, a kind gesture, or the absurdity of it all. You are not broken. You are being seasoned.

And yes, you can be both devastated and divine.

💋 This month, I’m hosting a 3-day self-care circle: The Queen of Shadowy Emotions — for anyone who wants to alchemize hard feelings into grace, rage into reverence, and maybe even find a little laughter in the rubble. Because sad isn’t a catastrophe — it’s an emotion. And it’s worthy of alchemy.

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