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

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

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

March 26, 2021

Covid-19, Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Healing, Lament, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, Winter, Workshops, Hope

Lessons from the Pandemic: What Does Hope Look Like These Days?

Anne Richardson

March 26, 2021

Covid-19, Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Healing, Lament, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, Winter, Workshops, Hope

In the Pacific NW come February, early March, we get our annual spring preview. Clouds practice social distancing, the Sun teases us with a splash of warmth and we shed at least one sweater layer as light streaks through the blue expanse. Some even brave laying on the grass—arms, feet and legs exposed. Sure, it will be below freezing in a few days, but the reprieve is luscious. The trees know it is temporary and keep bud tips closed except for the cherries. Their vulnerability is our delight. Sure enough, the rain returns with a winter bite. But the first rain after “preview” offers a promise. As I step out my door and inhale, the aroma of daffodil and daphne odora saturates the air. It is a shift from a winter rain, reminding me of when Grief makes that shift from deep, early loss. The pungent scent has traveled in the droplets. Little Hope sacs splashing at my feet.

Anne Richardson

February 26, 2021

Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Grief, Grief Journey, Lament, Mother Ocean, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Winter

Lessons from the Pandemic: Isn't Every Loss Worthy of Grieving?

Anne Richardson

February 26, 2021

Grief and Loss, Grief and Loss Workshops, Grief, Grief Journey, Lament, Mother Ocean, My Mentor Grief, Pandemic, Seasons, spiriutal companionship, unanticipated loss, Winter

If you have followed me for a while, you have met “The Sisters,” a circle of Big Leaf maples that I visit on my morning walks. A spiritual connection that has deepened since they reached out to me five years ago. They strengthen my rootedness to Earth, helped me prepare for my sojourn in 2019, are a source of wisdom that I share with you. Our relationship is reciprocal—my offering being love, respect, singing them songs, sharing poems and listening.

Anne Richardson

December 22, 2020

Ancestral Journey, Darkness, Gestations, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Healing, Lament, Life Transitions, Winter, Seasons

Lessons from the Pandemic: My Mentor Grief Shares the Gifts of Winter Darkness

Anne Richardson

December 22, 2020

Ancestral Journey, Darkness, Gestations, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Healing, Lament, Life Transitions, Winter, Seasons

There are stretches on my pre-dawn walk where I turn off my flashlight and stand still. Look up through a clearing. Allow the dark to cradle me. Ambient light on the far periphery (it is never totally at bay in the city.) I can pretend the trees along the path are more forest than park. As my eyes adjust, bare-limbed maples and needle-full Douglas firs texture the darkness. An owl’s call fills the air and I breathe that wondering “who who” question into my body. Even when rain is soaking Earth and the steady drops from merged clouds douse me, these winter walks are gift.

Grief in the Aftermath of a Storm

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

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

Lessons from the Pandemic: Invitations of Winter & Grief

Lessons from the Pandemic: What Does Hope Look Like These Days?

Lessons from the Pandemic: Isn't Every Loss Worthy of Grieving?

Lessons from the Pandemic: My Mentor Grief Shares the Gifts of Winter Darkness

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