February, by the Spoonful.

I’m cozy. Like, cozy af, in my January flow.

Cozy = Careful not to let the new-year/new-me energy around me fly past its place.
Cozy = Feeling safe enough to NOT look away from the ways that the government sanctioned violence against people is shaping our fears. 😞
Cozy = Particular about how grief and joy must be co-nurtured in my world. because I care about the people in it—strangers and loved ones included. ❤️‍🩹

So, while I do have juicy plans for the months ahead, I’m using most of this month to be, to process things, and to work softly where I can. And I’m savoring February the way some people savor ice cream… Slow and joyous. Letting it coat the tongue before swallowing. Breathing it in like we do when we’re close to beautiful flowers.

Speaking of flowers… 💐

In a recent convo about our Bringing Flowers project, I heard Thea say that when she wants to embody savorist pace, she thinks about honey. I imagined honey as warm, thickish, and alive. Honey has a magic in that it waits for no one, but it also never hurries. 🍯

I loved that, and I can relate. For me, it’s molasses.
Dark. Thick. Almost stubborn in its slowness. Slowdown game strong.
Molasses doesn’t give a damn how much you shake the jar.
 It asks you to trust gravity. 
It teaches patience by refusing to move faster just because you want it to.
That’s how I’m tryna get down, especially moving through January and February. Here’s what coming next month—honey and molasses styled:

Mending & Tending Grief

This month includes three online grief gatherings. See details to join me here.

These sessions are gently oriented toward our three-day, in-person grief gathering at Kripalu in March, but they stand on their own, too. Even if you never step foot on that land, this virtual tending is real grieftending—skill-building that honors slower pacing, language for naming feelings, and communal care.

Joy, Resurfaced and Fortified.

February also carries me into Thea’s Los Angeles gathering, an intimate, one-day offering rooted in joy practice and supported by grief tending. Get details to join her here. Maybe we can sit together 😄

Held on beloved land, among elder trees and sovereign soil, this gathering centers wildness, intimacy, and the kind of joy that doesn’t bypass what we’ve lived through. It’s about being in bodies—Black bodies, othered bodies, tender bodies—and asking what it means to be loved without having to shrink or perform.

As a lover of Thea’s work, I can tell you she brings a vibe that leaves you changed, not drained, and joy tactics you can apply right away. Get the details here.

Listening in Los Angeles.

I’ll also be in LA for a private gathering at the very end of February. It’s a converging of the voices I hope to weave into Season 2 of the What I Let Die podcast (WILD). We'll be in someone's back yard, chillin' and chattin' about grief.

This next season is place-based, even though the conversations will travel through wires. I want to sit with people in real rooms, feel the air shift, let the stories come the way molasses comes—when they’re ready. Here's season one if you haven't yet listened.

Unschooling Grief.

February is also when I begin sharing a long-brewing series on unschooling grief.
Writing I’ve been tending since last fall. 
Work that lives in my bones. Because unschooling is a verb, and you can unschool anything that’s been co-opted by systems that don’t know how to be humane. Grief is high on that list. Unschooling grief looks like refusing timelines.
 It looks like mistrusting performance.
 It looks like letting grief be curious, messy, bodily, relational. It looks like remembering that grief is not a problem to solve, but a relationship to tend. This series has been thickening, darkening, and sweetening in its own time. It’s almost ready.

More ground beneath my feet.

I’m noticing how excited I feel about being more on the ground this year. In rooms. On land. With bodies. Letting proximity do what proximity be doin’.
February is molasses work.
March and April carry more movement, more gathering, more shared air. I’ll offer another update soon to speak to what’s unfolding in the months ahead. For now, I’m staying with the spoon and letting February take its time.