✨Our holiday gift swap is back. Register by Thursday. ✨
And this month's sessions on sex, mindfulness, and yoga on 'the longest night.'
Hi everyone,
It’s December, it’s dark, we’re over it already.
So we’re back with a vengeance after a short time away to deal with some ongoing kid quarantines (make. it. stop.) and finish edits on an upcoming book (more on that after the new year) by offering several connection points this month to you, dear members. Many, many more to come in January and beyond.
If you’d like to share Modern Loss with someone in your life who could use this community, may we humbly suggest gifting them a subscription? They make a great holiday gift along with the Panettone. You’ll also find a subscription button below for 20% off your own annual membership; please support our work and gain access to all of our virtual events and more. 🧘🏽♀️ To that end, we’ve opened up this month’s yoga for grief support session to all to give you a sense of how we roll; you can register below. 🧘🏽♀️
More from us before the end of the year, including a return to our deep-dive interviews. In the meantime, a reminder that you don’t have to embrace your inner Clark Griswold if you don’t feel like it; sometimes you just need to be more like a Todd and Margo.
— Rebecca Soffer
Though THURSDAY: Sign up for our annual holiday gift swap
It’s yet another pandemic holiday season full of uncertainty, confusion, isolation and insultingly limited daylight. We also know this 'merry' time can be anything but when you're living with loss; even if you don't observe any holiday at all. So we want anyone who needs a dose of ‘I see you’ to be able to give and get something special from someone else who feels the same way. U.S. and Canada only but we’re working on a more international experience for next time around because this is our favorite Modern Loss project. Our sign-up form is open to only our subscribers through Thursday night.
Register here until 11:45 pm ET on Thursday, December 9.
December 13: Finding a Mindful Moment
Anyone else feeling utterly overwhelmed by public and private revelries/new variants/all the grief/anything else we have to do before end of year? Join our ongoing mindfulness series led by the phenomenal Annie Pearson and let her help you to catch your breath when it all feels like too much. (The best part: These are tools you can use whenever you need to.)
Subscribe now to register.
December 16: Sex. Grief. Dating. (Oh my!)
Just because we don’t talk about the relationship between sex and grief enough out in the open doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing that should be talked about *all the time*. Grief touches all, and that certainly includes our most basic desires. Join us for a conversation with sex and intimacy expert Merissa Nathan Gerson about alllllll of it. Bring your questions!
Subscribe now to register.
December 22: Yoga on the Longest Night
Yes, we know December 21 is actually the longest night in the Northern Hemisphere. But allow us just a bit of creative license as our wonderful yoga for grief support instructor Sandy Ayre is available on the 22nd. Let some of her light shine in during this special end-of-year community session. Wear comfortable clothes, no experience necessary.
Open to all. Register here to get a taste of our premium subscriber events.
For me, the most lingering grief is the sudden revisiting of the state of the initial deep and overwhelming grief. I have learned to deal with the loss of my son. Usually. Suddenly, without warning, the deep and overwhelming grief comes again. Just when I think I can deal with the loss, I am flooded with unprocessed grief that I usually think I can manage. I can only tell myself that I have survived this stage of grief in the past and will (most probably) survive it again. Trying to ignore this sudden state change seems to be impossible and unhealthy.
I get choked up when I think of the enormity of the loss of my grandson. I can’t focus on that and I needn’t do it so much because of how my life has expanded in the last months. I started playing pickleball in April, 13 months after he died. I quickly realized how I could play this silly-sounding game with 3 other people and feel joy again. I was outside running around on the court and laughing with these people. As time passed, I realized I needed these people and the game was just the vehicle for me to ride to greater happiness. I joined the local pickleball club and got involved in their holiday gift drive which has been an opportunity to do service for children in need. I was always one who scoffed at group stuff. Now I need these people and am so grateful. I have been given another chance at loving life through a change of heart.