Anne Richardson

March 8, 2024

Community, Connection, Covid-19, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Hope, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Newsletter, Pandemic, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Winter

Winter Newsletter: Preparing Our Hearts For Grief Anniversaries: COVID Edition

Anne Richardson

March 8, 2024

Community, Connection, Covid-19, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Hope, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Newsletter, Pandemic, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Winter

As Winter merges into Spring in the Pacific NW, I look at entrances to shops and see faded reminders from four years ago to stand “six-feet apart.” Painted flowers. Foot prints. Circles indicating “6’". Whatever the store thought would be helpful to remind folks to stay separated. Yes, the four year anniversary of the pandemic is close-at-hand. So many shifts in four years!

Perhaps like me your camera roll likes to offer memories, the “before photos,” where we were gathered at sardine-packed events unaware we were likely “at risk.” Then came the “after.” The impromptu masks…scarves wrapped loosely around faces, YouTube videos showing us how to make a mask from old t-shirts, folks digging through piles of material making free masks for healthcare workers, trying to fill a need…weak attempts at protection until we could buy something we thought was better…or at least more comfortable. Hand sanitizer at every doorway and checkout counter. Constant reminders to “wash your hands and not touch your face.” Washing groceries and placing mail in ziplock bags for a day or two (remember that!) And all the closures. The wide berths when walking. The lack of hugs. And ZOOM! Suddenly everything moved to Zoom.

Anne Richardson

January 22, 2024

Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Kindness, Lament, My Mentor Grief, Winter, spiriutal companionship, Weathering Storms, Poetry

Grief in the Aftermath of a Storm

Anne Richardson

January 22, 2024

Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Kindness, Lament, My Mentor Grief, Winter, spiriutal companionship, Weathering Storms, Poetry

I began writing this Thursday, January 18th before I lost power a second time due to the storms in the Pacific NW. Instead of rewriting in the present tense, I’m going to leave the opening as is: “A cold spell is caressing the Pacific NW like hands just pulled from a freezer. I’m finding it difficult to string more than five words together as a malaise has settled into my bones. This Arctic Traveler didn’t followed the forecast and leave town on the scheduled flight yesterday and is lingering, unwelcome. The trees that thawed briefly are once again coated in a veneer of ice. A hummingbird returns time and time again to the rhododendron outside my window and sits for minutes, shivering. I can see the small heart beating, trying to maintain heat. Someone must be maintaining a feeder, for he does leave and return. Could I go out and cup him in my hands? Would that help?

Anne Richardson

December 7, 2023

Community, Connection, Darkness, Grief and Loss, Grief, Grief Journey, Hope, Invitations, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Seasons, Slow Time, Stillness, Winter

Darkness: The Gift of Winter That Allows For Stillness...and Grief

Anne Richardson

December 7, 2023

Community, Connection, Darkness, Grief and Loss, Grief, Grief Journey, Hope, Invitations, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Seasons, Slow Time, Stillness, Winter

Puddles grow by the hour and rivers swell close to capacity. LED headlights penetrate my windshield, streaking the rain into mini-star bursts and I wonder if I have reached that age where driving at night will soon be out of reach. Perhaps it is the sign I need as Winter veils us in a wet cloak to draw the blinds and stay in these long, dark evenings.

Anne Richardson

October 26, 2023

Ancestral Journey, Blessings Ritual Ceremony, Darkness, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Invitations, My Mentor Grief, Time, Thresholds, Slow Time, Poetry

Weaving Slow Time Into Our Lives

Anne Richardson

October 26, 2023

Ancestral Journey, Blessings Ritual Ceremony, Darkness, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Invitations, My Mentor Grief, Time, Thresholds, Slow Time, Poetry

Next week we will cross from autumn into earliest winter. The darkening nights enfold me and I am grateful for the cool kiss of air that greets me when I wake. The call to deeper rest is not only during the earlier arrival of evenings, but in the low hanging sun in day-sky.

Singing Grief & Loss Into Our Voices

As summer wanes the songs of birds have also waned. I am no longer roused from sleep by the Dark-eyed Juncos’ romancing lilt an hour before the sun rises. Spring desire stirred their songs to life, along with Robins, Chickadees, Nuthatches, and so many more back when Rain still canvased Pacific Northwest landscape. Now the Junco’s nesting season is over, other wee birds stop by for sips from the birdbaths (Juncos understandably did not want to share space while they were parenting and kept other birds at bay.) I welcome the return of the full calliope.

Weaving Grief Into Our Enchanted Lives

Do you suppose small birds mourn? That, as their wee ones start out as four bodies emerging wet from beige, palest turquoise, and brown speckled eggs, one mouth seeming to crave life from the get-go while the others curl around the deep hearth of nest, waiting to stretch toward light, their parents ready to feed, to nurture, do they begin instinctual hoping? Do you wonder if, as the nest dwindles to one, they search for the lost or keep a keener eye on the ever-open mouth of the one remaining? Do they take time to sing a lament from the bow of the fir for the ones that never flew? And when, one morning after a night of tending, warming, they return for first feed to discover the one gone, no mouth to fill, too soon to fledge, do they weep bird tears? Do they rend their feathers? I wonder. I wonder.

Anne Richardson

June 29, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Blessings Ritual Ceremony, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Invitations, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, professional presentation, Questions, Seasons, spiritual journey, spiriutal companionship

Early Summer Newsletter: In Community With Birds

Anne Richardson

June 29, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Blessings Ritual Ceremony, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Invitations, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, professional presentation, Questions, Seasons, spiritual journey, spiriutal companionship

I guess this ”Early Summer” newsletter is substituting for the never-written-but often-contemplated “Spring” newsletter. It was an odd spring, what with a very wet start, a mid-season hot spell that dissipated into an almost autumnal feel. Oh, we had the occasional mid-80’s day and the tulips, lilacs, irises, peonies, dogwoods, and other seasonal regulars bloomed in color-wheel splendor to remind us Pacific Northwesterners that, yes, the calendar was correct. It was April. May. June. Somehow the writing of the Spring newsletter was waylaid by the enchantment of greening landscapes, creating and fine tuning my recent presentation, and pondering (okay obsessing about) my future “home” options…an ongoing journey I will not delve into right now.

Anne Richardson

May 17, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Connection, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, professional presentation, spiriutal companionship, Stillness, Thresholds, Wildness

Grief Never Fails Me

Anne Richardson

May 17, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Connection, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, professional presentation, spiriutal companionship, Stillness, Thresholds, Wildness

Spring finally arrived and it has been so dang frenetic and my still winter-paced body has been in overwhelm. The season was a good three weeks later than last year, as evidenced by my camera roll, with cool mornings and cold rains and lots of mud lingering well past the “April Showers” phase. The greens, as if suddenly alert to the change, are verdant, vivacious, vivid, and a full thesaurus of vibrant adjectives. Then there are the blossoms, the birds and all the wildness of this burgeoning season in full glory. It is so alive. And it isn’t that I don’t appreciate walking in the sunrise light and not having headlight-glare driving in the early evening hours. But, as I noted recently to a friend, as this season of flowing is upon us, I have felt more like ebbing. Finding stillness in the eruption of Spring energy can be challenging. Perhaps I should contact my Aussie friends and go to the Southern Hemisphere for a few months. A recent unseasonable heatwave has compounded the urgency in the air as if proclaiming “Summer is already here!” I haven’t even come on board with Spring. Sigh.

Anne Richardson

April 2, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Belonging, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, professional presentation, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Resilience

Everything is Connected: Resiliency, Ambiguous Loss, and Mud

Anne Richardson

April 2, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Belonging, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, professional presentation, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Resilience

Spring arrived in the Pacific NW on the appointed day and week in fine fashion with a few 60º days, rapturous robin songs, crocuses popping out of the ground…and then snow? Not a lot. It soon melted, but it startled. Rain predictably returned. But the mornings have hovered just above freezing, the chill of winter not quite ready to take leave. Spring, like me these days, seems to be struggling to settle into a rhythm. Or maybe the struggle is actually the rhythm with a bit of improv thrown in and if I listen closely enough I can hear the undertones.

Anne Richardson

March 3, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Connection, Covid-19, dementia, disenfranchised grief, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Literacy, Hope, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Newsletter, spiriutal companionship, Winter, professional presentation

Winter Newsletter: Footfalls On The Journey—Shifting Landscapes Shift Perspectives

Anne Richardson

March 3, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Connection, Covid-19, dementia, disenfranchised grief, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Literacy, Hope, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Newsletter, spiriutal companionship, Winter, professional presentation

Ah February in the Pacific NW. Our mild winter faked us out with a few warm spring-like days earlier in the month. This is typical. A few bulbs poke up. Trees start budding and a few have even bloomed some years, though at least this year the cherries didn’t. Wise those cherries. We are giddy with visions of lighter jackets and warmer days.

Then cold swept in with an unexpectedly large gathering of snow in the lowlands. Caught the weather-folk by surprise as well as the evening commuters on a recent Wednesday. Portland recorded 10-12” in some neighborhoods. My higher elevation abode had about 10”. It turned into an icy mess once the snow thawed a bit and refroze. All the headlines read “snowapocalypse”and folks in the midwest rolled their eyes I’m sure. Now this is typical…a “false” spring followed by more “wintery mixes,” but we are a hopeful bunch in the Pacific NW (or forgetful) and think each year will be different.

Anne Richardson

February 12, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Hope, Intangible Loss, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, disenfranchised grief

Coastal Language of Ambiguous Loss & Disenfranchised Grief

Anne Richardson

February 12, 2023

Ambiguous Loss, Community, Connection, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Hope, Intangible Loss, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, disenfranchised grief

I can sense the relief in my interactions with others these days. It is FINALLY light after 5:30pm! Yes! Folks are smiling again. Hope in the form of longer days in the Northern Hemisphere has arrived. We passed the midpoint of winter February 1st and “suddenly” first light crests the horizon well before 7am and daylight lingers longer. Last Tuesday at 6pm when I set out on my Mazama Street Ramble, there was still a vague hint of light in the west as stars started to bud. A clear night blossoming after a day of steady rain.

Nature takes the seasonal shifts in stride. If I look back through my camera roll, there are photos of daffodil tips poking through the soil in February from years past. Already the hellebore are blooming and if I draw a dogwood twig close to my eyes I can see the beginnings of budding. From a distance the deciduous trees appear to still be slumbering, but beneath their exterior they are awakening. It all feels predictable…or at least variations on a theme. And humans, for the most part, we like predictable.

Anne Richardson

January 12, 2023

Community, Connection, Darkness, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Literacy, Hope, Invitations, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, Wholeness

Noticing & Listening Beyond Words: Invitations to Connect

Anne Richardson

January 12, 2023

Community, Connection, Darkness, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Literacy, Hope, Invitations, Kindness, Labyrinth, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, Wholeness

Ah, 2023 has arrived. What have you noticed in these first days? Me? The weather words: “atmospheric river.” My poetic-self loves imagining what I can create with that. However, California is not fairing well under the weight of the rain these rivers carry and folks and landscapes and beings are suffering. At this writing there seems to be no end in sight.

Weatherscapes are shifting across our planet. Images inundate our social media feeds and from some of my recent readings and webinars, English words (perhaps others, but that is my learned tongue) can lack the deeper meaning needed to convey the urgency behind the shifts. I am not sure what to do with this information yet (except sensing loss and a need to grieve.) I love reading and written words, but there are times written language fails to convey urgency…even my beloved—poetry. So I will continue to explore-expand my connection to the natural world I inhabit. I will take more time when Rain patters on the brim of my hat as I walk and listen to the story Rain may want to share. Those “in-sky” rivers are “raining” down stories. Are we prepared to listen?

Anne Richardson

October 6, 2022

Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Honoriing Life Transition, Invitations, Kindness, Life Transitions, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, Seasons

Listening to Life's Seasonal Shifts

Anne Richardson

October 6, 2022

Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Honoriing Life Transition, Invitations, Kindness, Life Transitions, My Mentor Grief, Poetry, Seasons

Autumn has arrived in the Pacific NW. That certain crispness in the air that nips at you when you walk out the door pre-dawn. The crunch of leaves underfoot that creates wildness even in urban settings. And my favorite—morning fog rising like steam from the valley up to The Summit when I take my morning walk. Summer seemed to last f o r e v e r. And even unseasonably hot days continue to float into the forecast and suddenly I’m wearing shorts again for a day or two. But night is overtaking day earlier and cools off the heat with its breath. And I say to myself, “You made it.”

Anne Richardson

July 28, 2022

Between Times, Gratitude, Grief, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Pilgrimage, Poetry, Sojourn, spiritual journey, Stillness, Thresholds, Time

Sojourning with Stillness: Portals

Anne Richardson

July 28, 2022

Between Times, Gratitude, Grief, Kindness, My Mentor Grief, Pilgrimage, Poetry, Sojourn, spiritual journey, Stillness, Thresholds, Time

the return is unsettling. yes, i was ready to come home after 61 days away. to step through one final portal…the doors at Portland International Airport. ready to sleep in my own bed after lying in 24 strange beds while i was away, 25 if you count the Reykjavik Airport row of three seats that was a temporary nest. ready to reconnect with those close to my heart.

i remember this from my last sojourn. in a few days the body adjusts to sun rhythms. recalls how to make the morning smoothie. grind the right amount of coffee. slip into the pool and glide back & forth. however, the emotional & spiritual self hesitates. integration takes time. sifting through memories for old routines and deciding which expand my life. which restrict…

Anne Richardson

May 9, 2022

Ancestral Journey, Belonging, Covid-19, dementia, Gestations, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Pilgrimage, Seasons, Sojourn, Stillness

Lessons from the Pandemic: Unsettled Grief—Where do we go from here?

Anne Richardson

May 9, 2022

Ancestral Journey, Belonging, Covid-19, dementia, Gestations, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Pilgrimage, Seasons, Sojourn, Stillness

Wee birds have created three nests outside my apartment. Three! One on the wreath attached to my front door. Two are on the deck in hanging pots. Juncos have taken up residency, voicing annoyance with every coming and going. I tap on the door before exiting, tug slowly on the handle and apologize to the small body complaining on the railing, railing at my disturbance. When I return home, I see a small head poking out of the nest. I wave my hand “hello,” and the mama flies out and sizes me up, assess the situation. Will I try to harm her eggs? What tack should she take? Attack? Opening the door, I slip inside. I want to retrieve my step stool and peek at the eggs, but that seems like an intrusion. They need nurturing. Warmth, not peering. So I leave them be, though I can’t resist snapping a quick photo before she returns.

Anne Richardson

March 23, 2022

Beauty, Covid-19, dementia, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Healing, Hope, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, Grief Literacy

Lessons from the Pandemic: Stories Grief Weaves

Anne Richardson

March 23, 2022

Beauty, Covid-19, dementia, Gratitude, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, Healing, Hope, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, Sojourn, spiriutal companionship, Grief Literacy

Spring has begun in earnest in the Pacific Northwest. Daffodils are in yellow and orange abundance. Plum and cherry trees blushing to life. And Daphne’s aroma intoxicating for blocks on end. Blue sky, dry days are joy, sun warming Earth and skin. Rain is gentle, coming and going as tide. We need each drop to recover from a lingering drought. That the rain falling off-and-on this week without a storm’s full-on bluster is gift. No flooding.

Spring’s energy has been rising for weeks and after two years of all the upheaval Covid has wrought, there is a giddiness in the air of hope that the worse is behind us, even as more chapters are being written. At least that is what the birds are singing. Or…it is mating season?

Anne Richardson

January 20, 2022

Covid-19, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, Trauma, Winter, Kindness, Between Times, Time

Lessons from the Pandemic: Between Times, Kindness, & Grief

Anne Richardson

January 20, 2022

Covid-19, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, Trauma, Winter, Kindness, Between Times, Time

Fog shrouds my recent morning walk. Street lights halo both bare trees and evergreens. The moon, on the cusp of fullness, is setting in the west, hidden as day yawns to rising in the east. Despite dense fog, light is waking and crows begin their morning report. Winter chill is still in the air and the empty bench remains empty despite my desire to watch the unfolding longer. It’s not that I have anything pressing on the calendar and the quiet of the holiday lull (Martin Luther King Day) that has settled over the neighborhood almost lulls me into forgetting about COVID and the most recent variant, Omicron. Almost.

Anne Richardson

December 15, 2021

Ambiguous Loss, Darkness, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, Winter, Blessings Ritual Ceremony, Invitations

Lessons from the Pandemic: Invitations of Winter & Grief

Anne Richardson

December 15, 2021

Ambiguous Loss, Darkness, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief Journey, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, Winter, Blessings Ritual Ceremony, Invitations

Winter Solstice is near. Solstice, when Ancients believed Sun stood still. Night pausing before passing into Winter. This turning point from Autumn to Winter is full of silent invitations waiting for my noticing. I walk in the pre-dawn enveloped in Night. When Rain saturates Air, slow rising Sun scarcely brightens Sky. On Star-speckled walks the beam of my flashlight fades to nothing as Sky turns lavender to periwinkle to jaybird-blue well before the appointed “sunrise” time. I wonder at it all. That I should be so blessed to witness this offering.

Anne Richardson

November 4, 2021

Grief and Loss, Healing, My Mentor Grief, Seasons, Thresholds, Trauma, Pandemic

Lessons from the Pandemic: When Grief Stirs in the Bones

Anne Richardson

November 4, 2021

Grief and Loss, Healing, My Mentor Grief, Seasons, Thresholds, Trauma, Pandemic

Those winds that whip the leaves off the trees predictably in November came in mid-October to the Pacific NW this year. You may have heard about the “bomb cyclone” off the Northern Coast of California that brought buckets of rain to soothe the drought for the time being in dramatic fashion. Mega-fire concerns replaced by mudslides and flooding. Yikes! A conga line of storms expanded up the coast to where I live. Yes, this drought parched region needed a thorough watering. But all at once? I promised myself I wouldn’t complain about the steady drip of rain until at least March and so far I’m keeping that promise. Check in with me next month as I seem to return from most walks somewhere between damp and sopping and may soon be growing moss behind my ears.

Anne Richardson

August 30, 2021

Ambiguous Loss, Covid-19, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Healing, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, Trauma, Workshops

Lessons from the Pandemic: You Cannot Fail at Grief

Anne Richardson

August 30, 2021

Ambiguous Loss, Covid-19, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Healing, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Poetry, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, Trauma, Workshops

They are back! Crickets’ evening chirping filling every crevice of air from twilight to well after moonrise. Softening as night deepens. It soothes me. The heat of summer has waned for now and fans are off. The constant whirl of blades and the clicking on/off of my portable A/C (to which I offer copious gratitude) entered my inner world as invader not kin. The return of the crickets offers a reminder. Reminder that this long, hot, dry season is moving forward toward autumn, my favorite season.

The unfolding of seasonal change. The monthly moon cycle. Visiting the Oregon Coast and watching the daily ebb and flow of the tide. This is the medicine I need—the reminder that time continues to weave a story beyond my own. Nature helps me step outside my story. Shift perspectives. Return to gratitude. I didn’t realize how much I needed that reminder.

Grief in the Aftermath of a Storm

Darkness: The Gift of Winter That Allows For Stillness...and Grief

Weaving Slow Time Into Our Lives

Singing Grief & Loss Into Our Voices

Weaving Grief Into Our Enchanted Lives

Early Summer Newsletter: In Community With Birds

Grief Never Fails Me

Everything is Connected: Resiliency, Ambiguous Loss, and Mud

Coastal Language of Ambiguous Loss & Disenfranchised Grief

Noticing & Listening Beyond Words: Invitations to Connect

Listening to Life's Seasonal Shifts

Sojourning with Stillness: Portals

Lessons from the Pandemic: Unsettled Grief—Where do we go from here?

Lessons from the Pandemic: Stories Grief Weaves

Lessons from the Pandemic: Between Times, Kindness, & Grief

Lessons from the Pandemic: Invitations of Winter & Grief

Lessons from the Pandemic: When Grief Stirs in the Bones

Lessons from the Pandemic: You Cannot Fail at Grief

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